She looked at him in disbelief, though her chest was beginning to warm at his persistence.
"I an it," she said. "You’ve spent too much already. Do you even realize how much you’ve done for ? I can’t let you keep throwing money around like that."
At that mont Raymond took a step closer again, this ti reaching for her hand. He held it gently. "I don’t care how much I spend. I only care that when you walk into that room, you walk in like the queen you are. I want you to have the best—because you deserve it."
Imdiately Valentina bit her lower lip, fighting the smile trying to creep in. She glanced away, but he gently lifted her chin back to face him.
"No more arguing," he said softly. "Let’s go."
However Valentina didn’t moved, Instead she went to seat down her legs crossed, hands folded in her lap. Her gaze drifted from Raymond to the open wardrobe and then back to the polished floor.
She sighed.
"Raymond, seriously... What do you really want to do? You want to get a whole new outfit? Again?" At that mont Raymond eyes flicked toward the spot where she’d been holding his chest earlier.
"Since you don’t want us to go, can we now do sothing else, I thought you were signaling sothing else when you did that...can we now use the bed."
Valentina blinked, then burst into laughter. He stepped toward her, eyes squinting as he grinned. "Wait—that? You thought that was a signal? Raymond, co on."
She rolled her eyes, clearly unamused, but a smile threatened at the corners of her lips. "Don’t laugh. It’s not funny."
He shrugged playfully. "Everything you assu is always dramatic."
Still reluctant, she stood slowly and muttered under her breath, "I still don’t see why we’re doing this, but I will go with you."
Monts later, they were dressed and sliding into her Bugatti. Valentina took the wheel, her knuckles tight around the steering as the engine purred to life. She didn’t say much during the ride, but Raymond kept glancing at her with a knowing smirk.
Not long after they pulled up in front of a boutique that looked like it belonged in a magazine spread—sleek glass walls, golden door handles, and a na in cursive silver letters that shimred in the light: Élan Vogue.
Valentina stepped out and stood frozen for a second. "Wait..." she whispered to herself. "This is... this is Élan Vogue?" Her head tilted back slightly, eyes scanning the building in awe.
"I’ve seen this on TV... they say only people with red carpet status shop here."
Raymond had already walked around to her side, his hands tucked into his pockets. "Well... today you’re the one walking the red carpet."
At that mont Valentina didn’t move. She stared at the entrance, lips parting slightly.
"I don’t know," she said slowly. "I an, this is way too much. I don’t want you wasting that kind of money on ."
Raymond turned fully to face her, his tone softer now. "Then don’t see it as wasting it. See it as investing in the woman I love."
She looked up at him, still hesitant... but with eyes that were slowly lting.
Valentina paused just at the doorway of the boutique, her heels clicking softly against the marble step. The glass doors glead like diamonds, and from where she stood, she could already see the elegant, glistening rows of designer dresses and high-fashion accessories lining the interior.
Again she turned to Raymond with narrowed eyes. "Wait—Raymond... this place is not too expensive, right?"
Raymond gave her that easy, boyish smile—the one he reserved only for her. He leaned closer and lowered his voice as if sharing a secret.
"Nothing is too expensive for you, Valentina," he said, his tone smooth, soft, but confident. "You deserve the best... and the best is exactly what you’re getting."
Imdiately she blinked at him.
"I an it," he continued, reaching gently for her hand. "If you wanted sothing that cost ten million, even a hundred million—I’ll get it. Just say the word."
Valentina burst out laughing, a laugh full of disbelief and amusent.
"Raymond, co on! What would I do with sothing worth a hundred million?" she said between her laughter. "I’m just here for clothes. Not a spaceship!"
He smirked. "You say that now, but Valentina... if your clothes cost anything less than a million when you’re with , then I’m not doing sothing right."
Imdiately She gaped at him.
"A million?!" she repeated with a little shriek. "Your standard is a million? For what? Fabric and thread?"
"You heard ," he replied, playfully smug. "Nothing less than a million."
At that mont She shook her head, still laughing, though a bit of concern lingered in her tone.
"Raymond, you’re doing too much. Honestly, you really are. You don’t know how to save. You don’t know how to economize. You think money doesn’t finish or sothing?"
Raymond slipped his hand around her waist, pulling her gently toward the entrance. "You think too much Valentina," he whispered beside her ear, "and that’s exactly why I’ll be doing the thinking today."
Valentina didn’t say anything at first.She simply smiled—a slow, knowing smile that pulled slightly at the corner of his lips.
"I’m not agreeing with you on this, I wouldn’t allow you spend this much."
Then Raymond nodded.
"Alright," he said finally, his tone calm, almost teasing.
"If you don’t want to make that kind of promise, that’s fine." He leaned back, pretending to dust invisible lint off his shirt. "I’ll not talk to soone."
Valentina furrowed her brows. "What do you an soone else?"
Raymond glanced at her, a playful spark in his eyes. "I an, I have soone in mind... a friend. Very close to the GSK top board. He can put in a very good word for you."
She straightened imdiately, her voice sharper now. "Wait—Raymond, are you serious?"
He chuckled softly, not even looking at her yet. "Have I ever pulled your leg, Valentina?"
Imdiately Her mouth opened, then closed. No, he never had.
"I’m telling you," he continued, "I know soone who can help get that contract approved without even blinking. But since you’re trying to be difficult..." He trailed off, shrugging with feigned indifference. "Maybe I just won’t make that call."
"Wait!" Valentina nearly blurted, standing fully now. Her hands clenched at her sides. "Okay! I’ll do everything. I’ll do it."
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