“Pretend You Love Me, Please…” — Powerful CEO Begged Single Dad Right In Front Of His Ex.
The main hall of the Valencia Palace Hotel glittered as if each crystal chandelier were trying to compete with the stars. Expensive perfumes, deliberate laughter, and the metallic sound of clinking glasses floated in the air. To anyone’s eyes, that night was perfect. For Lucía Ortega, however, it was a prison of luxury, dressed in a custom-designed ivory evening gown.
She walked with the confidence that only power can bring. But inside, she felt empty. She had achieved everything many dreamed of: running her own company, appearing on magazine covers, attending charity dinners with ministers and artists. And yet, no one really knew her.
Her footsteps echoed on the marble floor as she greeted everyone with the flawless smile she’d practiced for years in front of the mirror. The glare of the cameras blinded her. Success came at a price. Don’t let the cracks show. While the host thanked the event’s sponsors, Lucía glanced sideways toward the back of the room and her breath caught.
There, among the guests, was Derek Salvatierra, the same man who years before had made her believe in love, only to publicly humiliate her when they broke up. The man who accused her of using her charm to rise to the top of an entire board of directors. The man who taught her that feelings in the world of the rich were a luxury only the naive could afford.
Lucía noticed her heart beating fast, not with love, but with suppressed rage. Derek was approaching, arm in arm with a much younger model, laughing with that smugness that had always hurt her. Her instinct was to walk away, but then she heard him. Lucía, it had been a long time. His tone was kind, but his eyes held venom.
She took a deep breath, ready to respond with her usual coolness when something inside her broke. She didn’t want to feel that feeling of being defeated again. Not that night, not in front of him, she looked around for an exit, a distraction, a refuge. And then she saw him: a man in a dark blue uniform leaning discreetly by the service door.
She held an empty tray, observing the scene with some discomfort. She had dark hair, sun-tanned skin, and in her calm brown eyes, there was no judgment, only curiosity. Miguel Navarro, one of the hotel’s concierges, Lucía didn’t give it a second thought. Her pride, her fear, and her impulse blended into a single decision.
She approached him quickly, and before he could say anything, she whispered in a shaky voice, “Please pretend you’re my boyfriend for just five minutes.” Miguel blinked in surprise. The sound of the orchestra filled the air, but the silence between them was thick and intimate. He could see in the woman’s eyes a supremely elegant stranger, a desperate plea, the kind of look no one ever invents.
“What?” he stammered. “Just five minutes, please,” she repeated, still holding his hand, and without quite understanding why, Miguel nodded. Lucía turned to Derek just as he approached. She gave him a flawless smile and casually took Miguel’s arm. “Derek,” she said calmly. “This is my partner, Miguel.”
Silence fell immediately. Derek raised an eyebrow, scanning Miguel’s uniform. “Your partner,” he asked with a crooked smile. “A janitor.” Several people nearby pretended not to hear, but the murmur spread like wildfire. Lucía felt a blush rise in her cheeks, but she didn’t move.
Then Miguel, in a calm but firm voice, said, “Yes. And with pride, because even though I clean floors, I’ve never soiled my soul.” The comment fell like a loud bang. Derek was silent for a moment, surprised by the man’s serenity. Lucía raised her chin as if those words were a shield.
“Miguel has taught me what dignity is,” she added, “Something some forget when they rise too high.” A murmur of approval was heard among the tables. Derek, uncomfortably, cleared his throat, mumbled an excuse, and left with his companion. Lucía let out a pent-up breath. Her heart was beating so loudly she was afraid everyone could hear it.
Miguel, on the other hand, seemed calm, almost amused. “Am I still pretending, or is the show over?” he joked softly. Lucía looked at him and, for the first time in a long time, truly laughed. A small, nervous, but sincere laugh. “Thank you,” she said. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.” “Probably something much more elegant,” he replied with a half-smile. “But it was a pleasure saving a lady in distress.”
Their gazes met. For a moment, the noise in the room disappeared. Only the two of them remained, the woman who had everything, and the man who barely had enough to live on, united by a lie that, unbeknownst to them, would change their lives. A while later, when the event was over, Lucía went out onto the balcony to get some fresh air.
The city lights twinkled over the Turia River, and the midnight breeze carried the scent of the sea. She felt a strange mix of relief and guilt. What did I just do? she thought. She’d never lost control like that before. A voice behind her broke the silence. Sorry to interrupt, it was Miguel, his jacket over one arm. I just came to tell you it’s been an honor pretending with you.