Mariana bent down to pick up the bills.
Not because she needed them, but because she didn’t want them to soil the pristine marble.
She carefully placed them on the edge of the trash can and said calmly:
—You should keep them. That money… you’re going to need it.
Alejandro froze for a second.
There was no resentment in her tone.
Nor was there any pleading.
That calmness… made him more uncomfortable than any reproach.
“Are you still acting so falsely dignified?” Alejandro grumbled, turning to Camila. “See? Poor things, but full of pride.”
Camila let out a mocking laugh and clung tighter to Alejandro’s arm, looking Mariana up and down with contempt.
At that moment, a group of men in black suits entered the lobby.
At the front was a gray-haired man with a commanding presence and a respectable gaze, followed by executives and members of the press team.
The mall manager bowed deeply:
—Mrs. Mariana, everything is ready. The presentation will begin in three minutes.
The entire lobby… fell into absolute silence.
Alexander paled.
“Mrs… Mariana?” Her voice came out choked, as if someone were squeezing her throat.
Mariana nodded slightly.
She placed the rag on the cleaning cart.
She calmly removed her gloves.
An assistant immediately approached and placed an elegant white blazer over her shoulders.
In a matter of seconds, the “cleaning lady” disappeared.
Facing Alejandro was another woman:
Loose hair, upright posture, deep and cold gaze.
The gray-haired man stepped forward and announced in a clear voice for all to hear:
—It is an honor to introduce you to Mrs. Mariana Ortega, founder of the brand “Fénix de Fuego” and main investor in this exclusive collection that is being launched tonight.
Alejandro took a step back, completely distraught.
The red dress with rubies behind Mariana —the same one he had scorned— bore the stamp of his name.
Mariana turned towards him.
And smiled.
But it was no longer the fragile smile of the woman from seven years ago.
“Seven years ago you said I wasn’t good enough for you.”
“A few minutes ago you said I could never touch this dress.”
She raised her hand.
The staff opened the display case.
Mariana touched the red fabric with grace.
The lights made the lobby seem to be on fire.
“What a shame…” she whispered. “
Because the one who no longer has the right to touch any of this… is you.”
At that moment, Alejandro’s phone began to vibrate nonstop.
Message from your secretary:
“Sir, the strategic partner has just withdrawn all investment.
They have signed an exclusive contract with… Ms. Mariana Ortega.”
Before he could react, Camila abruptly released his arm.
—Weren’t you supposed to be vice president? Was it all a lie?
She turned around and left, her heels clicking like hammer blows on Alejandro’s shattered pride.
Mariana walked past him.
He didn’t look at him.
He left only one phrase floating in the air, soft as the wind:
—Thank you… for letting me go that day.
Alejandro stood motionless in the middle of the lobby, surrounded by luxury, flashes and murmurs, trapped in a reality he never imagined he would face.