Chapter 17: Dangerous Spark!
DIANA
The morning sun streamed into the penthouse suite, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air like tiny, disobedient fairies. I scowled at them. Everything felt disobedient today. "Tell them I'm still on holiday," I said, not looking up from my phone where I was scrolling through a fashion blog with a distinct lack of interest. "I'm not accepting any brand ambassadorship offers. Not now."
Kate, my manager, sighed audibly from the chaise lounge opposite me. She was a woman carved from sheer competence, her blonde bob perpetually perfect, her pantsuit crisp even at this early morning. "Diana, be reasonable. A public image is a garden that requires constant tending. No matter how much money you have—even though you have a staggering amount—you cannot let it wither. A-list status is a verb, not a noun. It requires action."
I finally looked up, letting my phone drop onto the plush velvet of the sofa with a soft thud. "Kate! For the last time, just reject them. Or better still, tell them I'm on a remote film set with no signal. That we'll get back to them. There are a thousand other celebrities they can harass. Why are they so insistently focused on me?" I injected a practiced note of weary exasperation into my voice.
But Kate was a fortress. She didn't back down. She simply adjusted her glasses, her gaze sharp and unwavering. "Because you are Diana Moreau. And right now, your mystique is growing precisely because you've vanished. But mystique can curdle into irrelevance if you're not careful."
I knew this dance. I knew she wouldn't relent. So, I shifted tactics. I let my shoulders slump and summoned a sheen of tears to my eyes, a trick I’d mastered at eighteen. It was a delicate balance—too much and it was melodrama, too little and it was ineffective. This was just right.
"Kate," I began, my voice softening to a fragile whisper. "This is the first real break I've had in two years. I've been on back-to-back sets, press tours, award shows... I'm exhausted. Truly. I just need... a moment. To breathe." I looked down at my hands, twisting them slightly in my lap. "I promise you, the moment this... personal business is concluded, I will accept every worthwhile offer. I'll even make it up to you. I'll get you that introduction to the VGM board you've been wanting for your charity foundation."
I watched her carefully from beneath my eyelashes. A subtle change crossed her face. The rigid line of her shoulders softened a fraction. The VGM mention was my trump card. Cassian’s world was the ultimate prize for people like Kate—a realm of real, untouchable power that made Hollywood look like a playground.
She let out a long, slow breath. "You sure have a way with words, you know that?" A small, reluctant grin touched her lips. "Okay. Fine. I'll hold them off. But I'm noting this promise, Diana. No backtracking after your 'holiday' ends."
Relief washed over me. "Thank you, Kate. You're the best."
Emboldened, I decided to push my luck. "You know," I said casually, "you should take a holiday yourself. God knows you deserve one. Somewhere tropical. You could actually enjoy yourself for once." And leave me alone, I silently prayed.
Her grin vanished, replaced by a look of pure skepticism. "So you can run completely wild without adult supervision? Not a chance. I'm staying right here to monitor the situation. The only person I'm leaving you with is Cassian, and God knows he enables your worst impulses."
As if on cue, my private phone—the one with the diamond-encrusted case—trilled from the coffee table. Not my work phone. My real phone.
"Who is it?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.
Kate leaned over and glanced at the screen. "Evelyn," she announced, her tone leaving no room for argument as she handed me the device. "Don't even think about ignoring it. Take it and talk to your mother."
I groaned, flopping back against the cushions. "No, Mom just nags about the same thing every time. I'm not in the mood for—"
Kate's glare could have frozen lava. "Diana. Take. The. Call."
Grumbling, I accepted the phone, pressing it to my ear like it might bite me. "Hi, Mom."
"Diana, baby! How are you? You're not too busy, are you?" Her voice was like warm honey, but I knew the sting that followed.
"I'm okay, Mom. Just… getting ready for the day. I have an event to attend later. Is everything alright?"
"Everything is fine, darling. Except for the fact that you continue to willfully ignore my best advice." The honey began to crystallize. "Your father and I aren't getting any younger. We would like to dance at our grandson's wedding before we need canes to walk down the aisle."
"Mom! Please, not this again." I squeezed my eyes shut, already feeling a headache beginning to bloom behind my temples.
"I'm serious, Diana. I think I should call Victoria this afternoon. Feel her out. See what she thinks about finally making things official between you and Cassian. This… this waiting… time is going, my love. It waits for no one."
A hot flush of embarrassment crept up my neck. I was glad Kate couldn't hear the other side of the conversation. Cassian. The boy I'd followed around like a lost puppy since I could walk. He was always so brilliant, so fiercely protective. When the other children at those interminably boring galas would tease me for being shy, it was Cassian who would step in, a silent, intimidating twelve-year-old who needed only a look to make them scatter. I had looked up to him, and adored him. He was the standard against which I measured every other man. And they all fell short.
But somewhere along the way, that adoration had deepened, twisted into something more complex, more aching. It was love. A deep, stubborn, and utterly hopeless love. The problem was, I was almost certain he saw me as nothing more than a pesky little sister—a familiar obligation, a piece of his past that occasionally needed managing. Our mothers' dream of a union between the Vale and Moreau dynasties was their fantasy, not ours.
"Mom, these things take time," I said, falling back on the well-worn excuse. "We're both… we're still figuring things out. Our careers are so demanding. I'll let you know when we're ready, I promise."
The sigh that traveled down the line was heavy enough to carry its own gravity. "That is the same song you've been singing for three years, Diana. I'm giving you one month. One month to 'figure things out.' If I don't hear a satisfactory update, I will have a very direct conversation with Victoria. And you know I will."
The line went dead. I dropped the phone onto the couch as if it had burned me. I looked at Kate, expecting a mocking comment about my love life. But her expression was uncharacteristically serious, the same one she wore when negotiating a multi-million dollar contract.
She leaned forward, her elbows on her knees. "Diana," she said, her voice low and intent. "Don't you think it's time you and Cassian had a real conversation? No more games. No more family pressure. Just you and him. This… limbo isn't good for your brand, and frankly, it doesn't seem good for you."
The directness of it threw me off guard. I deflected, as I always did. "He's still building his empire, Kate. VGM is his priority. And besides," I added, forcing a note of casual confidence, "it's not as if there's any competition. There is no other woman in his life. He'll come around. I just need to be patient and focus on my career."
The words tasted like ash in my mouth. Even as I said them, the image of the girl from his mansion flashed in my mind—the one with the startlingly green eyes and the look of a frightened rabbit. She's nobody, I told myself firmly. Just a temporary distraction. A project. He's always had a soft spot for strays. He'll get bored.
Kate studied me for a long moment, her gaze seeing far too much. "Okay," she said finally, her tone dripping with doubt. "If you say so." She stood up, smoothing her pantsuit. "The car exhibition starts in an hour. The paparazzi will be thick. You need to look impeccable. Go get dressed. It's time to remind the world why you're Diana Moreau."
As I walked toward the walk-in closet, my mind was racing. One month. The clock was now ticking. And as I selected a daring, crimson designer dress—a color guaranteed to command attention—I knew the exhibition wasn't just about seeing cars. It was about staking a claim. It was time to move from being the familiar sister-figure to being the only woman who could possibly stand by Cassian Vale's side.