One Night With A Mysterious Billionaire (The Heiress's Revenge)-Chapter 73: Raymond doesn’t own Vegas city

Lena

I tried my best to hurry myself back into my routine after leaving Raymond’s house. Work helped distract me, even if only for a little while. Sylvia had been nothing but kind to me since the day I arrived. My stay at her family house had been surprisingly stress-free, with her mother constantly fussing over my well-being as though I were her own daughter.

But despite their kindness, I couldn’t take my mind off Raymond.

No matter how hard I tried, thoughts of him kept creeping back into my mind. His eyes... the way they always seemed to hold me in place whenever he looked at me. Or maybe it was those strong arms that wrapped around me so firmly, never letting me fall. I missed his embrace. I missed the warmth that came with it.

Sometimes I caught myself staring blankly into space, completely lost in memories. Sylvia noticed, of course, but she never pushed me to talk about it. She gave me the privacy I needed without probing, and for that I was grateful.

Still, I knew I couldn’t stay in her house forever.

They had done more than enough for me already, and I didn’t want to burden them with my presence. Even though Sylvia and her mother repeatedly told me it was perfectly fine for me to stay as long as I wanted, I didn’t feel right about it.

It was time I started taking care of myself again.

The thought brought a small smile to my face.

And that was how Sylvia and I ended up spending the afternoon driving around the city, searching for a suitable place for me to live.

"What about this one, Miss Smith? Do you like it?"

The agent turned toward me expectantly as we stood in the middle of a modest but elegant apartment.

"It’s the only unit left in this building," she added quickly. "What do you say, Miss Smith?"

Her eyes held a clear sense of anticipation.

"I love it," I told her honestly.

And I truly did. The moment I stepped inside, I had already decided I wanted it even before she asked. The apartment wasn’t extravagant, but it was comfortable and quiet. Large windows allowed sunlight to spill across the wooden floors, and the space felt warm and welcoming.

It met every requirement I had in mind.

"Well, that’s wonderful news," the agent said with a bright smile. "All you need to do is come to our office tomorrow. We’ll go over a payment plan, you can make the first installment, sign a few documents, and the house will officially be yours."

"That works perfectly for me," I replied with a small smile.

"Great. I’ll be expecting you tomorrow then. Have a lovely day, Miss Smith... Sylvia."

Sylvia waved cheerfully. It was obvious they knew each other well; apparently, they went way back.

As the agent left, Sylvia turned to me.

"Lena, we have to get back home now or we won’t make it to today’s art exhibition."

I hesitated immediately.

"Are you sure you want to bring me along?" I asked nervously. "What will people say when I show up without Raymond? Won’t they just start speculating that we’ve broken up?"

The thought alone made me uneasy.

"I don’t want to cause trouble for him," I continued quietly. "Besides... he warned me not to appear before him."

The words tasted like ash in my mouth.

Sylvia scoffed loudly.

"Come on. Vegas City doesn’t belong to Raymond," she said firmly. "He doesn’t get to dictate where you go and where you shouldn’t go."

She crossed her arms.

"If anything, he should be the one avoiding you, not the other way around. And why do you even care about what the press says? If anyone asks, I’ll just tell them it’s a girls’ night. That will shut down any rumors."

She shrugged casually.

"And besides, it shouldn’t be your job to fix anything. He started this mess, didn’t he? Let him deal with the consequences."

Her words slowly eased the tension in my chest.

She was right.

It was his mess.

Why should I be the one worrying about it?

I finally turned toward her with a smile.

"You’re right. Let’s just go and have fun tonight. Forget about boys."

Sylvia gasped dramatically before letting out an excited scream.

"Whoooo! Now we’re talking!"

She grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the car.

"Come on before we’re late!"

We barely stopped laughing until we reached the car.

"Buckle up, babe," she said as she started the engine. "Tonight we’re going to have the time of our lives."

I laughed heartily. Sylvia truly was a delight to be around, and the drive back home was filled with music, teasing, and nonstop chatter.

By the time we arrived, my mood had improved considerably.

Soon we were getting ready for the event.

I chose a champagne-colored silk gown with a slit running along the front and an open back that exposed the smooth curve of my shoulders. To highlight the design, I packed my hair up neatly so the back of the dress could shine the way it deserved.

I paired the look with strapless heels and a small clutch purse.

Sylvia wore a peach bodycon gown that hugged her figure perfectly, paired with elegant stilettos and a matching clutch.

Once we were ready, we climbed into the car with Sylvia behind the wheel.

Not long after, we arrived at a large building where the exhibition was being held.

The place was grand and brightly lit.

As soon as we stepped inside, several heads turned in our direction. I had grown used to that kind of attention over time, so I simply ignored it and began admiring the artwork displayed around the hall.

The exhibition was breathtaking.

There were oil paintings hanging across the walls, sculptures carved from wood and stone, and even intricate figures molded from clay and soil. Sketches and abstract designs filled every corner of the room.

Each piece seemed to tell its own story.

"You know, the painter never actually fell in love. Yet his work went down in history as one of the greatest depictions of love."

The sudden voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

I turned and saw a young man standing beside me. He had messy blond hair and an easygoing smile.

"My name is George," he said politely. "I couldn’t help but admire your concentration. I love art, and I always appreciate people who can truly see the beauty in it."

"Oh... Lena," I replied, introducing myself.

"I’m actually into design," I added with a smile. "A different kind of art, but I still love it when I see paint and brush create something this beautiful."

George’s smile widened.

"You should come to my exhibit sometime," he said as he handed me a card. "I’m sure you’d find even more perfection there."

"I’ll try," I responded politely, though I already knew I probably wouldn’t go.

"Well then," he continued, gesturing toward the painting in front of us, "do you understand what the artist is trying to say here?"

I shook my head slightly.

"Let me explain."

He pointed toward the first painting.

"Look closely. This one shows a woman riding a horse while a man walks beside it barefoot, holding the reins."

I followed his gesture.

"It represents protection and trust," he explained. "Notice the brushwork. Each stroke expresses the man’s emotions."

He moved his hand toward another painting.

"And this one..."

The image showed a woman leaning back in a vulnerable position while a man stood in the doorway watching her.

"It symbolizes intimacy," George said thoughtfully.

"In a relationship between a man and a woman, both partners surrender control at some point. That moment of vulnerability is where the deepest bonding of souls takes place."

My breath caught slightly as I listened to him.

He pointed to another painting.

"And this one tells the story of turmoil in love."

The painting showed a man and a woman facing opposite directions, their backs turned toward each other.

"The artist wanted to capture the arguments and conflicts that happen when people fall in love," George continued. "Even when they fight, they don’t truly leave. That’s why they’re still standing in the same place."

He chuckled softly.

"Love is a roller coaster of protection, trust, bonding... and endless fights."

He turned toward me again.

"What do you think, Lena? Do you believe the artist’s depiction of love... or do you think there’s more to it?"

Before I could answer, something pulled my attention away.

I suddenly felt a burning gaze on me.

When I looked up, my heart nearly stopped.

Raymond.

He was standing across the room, staring directly at me.

Anger blazed in his eyes.

My chest tightened instantly.

I wondered how I had offended him this time. Perhaps it was because he had warned me not to appear before him again, and yet here I was.

Did he really hate me that much?

The thought made my heart sink painfully.

Suddenly, everything around me lost its appeal.

Maybe I should just leave. If I left, he wouldn’t have to look at me anymore... and maybe he wouldn’t be so angry.

I turned back to George.

"Goodnight, George. It was nice meeting you, but I have to go now."

"So soon?" he asked with surprise.

I nodded.

"Alright," he said with a friendly smile. "My number

is on the card. Don’t forget to call or visit my studio sometime."

I nodded politely before turning away.

Without looking back again, I made my way toward the exit.