Fake Mating To My Ex's Powerful Enemy

Chapter 148: Chapter 148 Birthday Skies

Christina’s POV

The moment Ysolde mentioned Hudson, my heart did that complicated little dance it always does these days. Our relationship existed in this strange limbo—married on paper, strangers in reality.

"He did get you something. Didn’t I already tell you?" I said.

"Tell me what? What did I miss?" Ysolde leaned forward, suddenly alert.

I cleared my throat, feeling oddly self-conscious. "The Nyx Collective situation."

"What about it?"

"Well, the company is basically mine now."

"What?" Her eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. "Yours? What does that mean exactly?"

"He bought the entire company. Transferred all the shares to my name."

"Holy shit." Ysolde collapsed backward dramatically, waving limply at her pile of gift bags. "I’m completely outclassed."

"It’s not a competition."

She rolled her eyes. "Of course it’s a competition. What else did he do? Rent out the entire Aman hotel for a birthday party? Or just buy you the Pink Star diamond?"

"Absolutely not. Though I’d happily trade my firstborn, lastborn, soul, and future just to touch the Pink Star."

Just imagining touching that perfect 59.60-carat pink diamond without a single flaw made my mouth water.

"What’s planned for tonight?" Ysolde waved her hand dismissively. "Why am I even asking? Let me guess, candlelit dinner on the beach with a live string quartet. Got it. I know when I’d be a third wheel."

I said nothing.

In reality, no, I had absolutely nothing planned for tonight.

Hudson hadn’t mentioned a word when I left the house this morning.

And half the day had gone by without so much as a text message from him.

Maybe he thought the share transfer documents said "Happy Birthday" clearly enough.

By evening, Priya and Daniel had packed up and left for the day.

Ysolde took a phone call and rushed off in those ridiculous boots of hers, leaving the studio as quiet as a tomb.

I closed my laptop, organized my scattered design sketches, and reached to turn off the lights—

Then stopped.

Through the glass, I saw a figure on the sidewalk outside.

Someone getting out of a car. Long black coat. Straight shoulders. No umbrella.

As he walked by, the streetlights behind him lit up one by one, as if his presence triggered them.

Warm yellow light slid across his shoulders, catching in his hair like a spotlight made just for him.

Behind him, the street was alive with engine sounds, shouts, and pedestrian crossing signals.

He didn’t look at any of it, his eyes fixed on me through the glass.

I stood frozen.

He pushed open the door.

The bell above jingled sharply.

Cold air rushed in.

He walked straight to me, gloved fingers catching mine.

"Come with me."

He tugged gently, and I followed him outside.

The traffic sounds grew louder, headlights whizzing past, people hurrying and jostling.

We stopped at the edge of the sidewalk.

His hand still held mine.

He bent down, close enough for me to feel his breath. "Look up."

I tilted my head back.

The sky was pitch black, no stars visible, just thick cloud cover and the hum of the city coming from all directions.

I turned to him, confused.

He started counting down. "Three, two, one."

The sky exploded.

Not lightning. Not thunder.

Fireworks.

Red. Gold. Blue. White.

First one burst, then ten.

Then hundreds.

They launched from rooftops, cranes, and somewhere across the river.

Some small and sharp, others large and slow, melting like coins dripping across the sky.

Cascades of sparks fell down the sides of glass buildings, lighting up windows, staining the clouds pink and silver.

I forgot to breathe.

There were too many to count.

The air filled with sulfur and caramel.

The cement under my feet vibrated with low rumbles.

The fireworks didn’t stop.

I completely lost track of how long I stood there.

Minutes. Maybe longer.

Finally, the last firework died away.

The sky looked as if nothing had happened. freeweɓnovel.cøm

Then, suddenly, the noise returned.

Shouting, whistling, screaming—too many voices to distinguish who was saying what.

I blinked, my ears still ringing.

People had stopped to look up at the sky.

Phones everywhere, arms held high, flashes blinking.

The sidewalk buzzed with footsteps and conversations.

"This is insane. Who sets off that many fireworks at once?"

"What holiday is this?"

"Not just here. My cousin’s across town, says the entire city skyline lit up."

"Massive scale. I could feel the heat wave from here."

"Gotta be some rich person showing off. Not complaining though."

"This isn’t a holiday or even a public event. Someone did this for private reasons."

"Quick, post it on your socials!"

"Why bother? Everyone in the city saw it."

The sky slowly dimmed, flickering once more.

Blue faded to gray.

Clouds swallowed the colors.

The air felt heavy again, stretched and snapped back.

I turned to Hudson.

I couldn’t see clearly.

My vision hadn’t recovered.

Everything looked blurry and too bright, like a fogged lens.

He was looking at me with that expression. Eyes wide and sharp, too focused.

They caught the last rays of light.

Or maybe they were glowing themselves.

He said, "These were all for you. Did you like them?"

My pulse raced.

I felt it in my throat, under my ribs, behind my eyes

I was stunned before speaking: "Yes, I liked them."

The corner of his mouth lifted.

"Good."

He squeezed my hand again.

Then calmly but clearly said: "Not done yet. Look up again."

I did.

The sky was dark again, but small white lights began to appear above us, blinking slowly and rhythmically.

They flickered, then gathered together, moving across the darkness in sharp, deliberate strokes.

The words appeared one after another.

ALL.

FOR.

YOU.

HAPPY.

BIRTHDAY.

C.

The lights lingered for a moment, then scattered like sparks blown by the wind.

They shrank, stretching higher and farther away until they disappeared beyond the rooftops.

Then silence.

Hudson’s voice drifted into my ears as if from a dream.

"I prepared a whole speech. But it didn’t feel right. Too many words, too complicated. Simpler seemed better. So, Christina, happy birthday."

I turned to look at him.

I couldn’t speak.

"I thought about gifts. Something tangible. Jewelry, shoes, bags. But they break, get lost, get thrown away. This"—he pointed to the sky—"you might remember."

He leaned down, his lips barely brushing the corner of my mouth.

"May your life have more moments like this, Christina."

Then he pulled away.

My skin burned where his lips had touched.

He took my hand again, gently pulling me toward the studio.

"You’re freezing. Let’s get inside."

The door closed softly behind us.

Heat hit us the moment we stepped in, thick and warm.

Blood rushed back into my fingers, tingling slightly.

He laughed softly.

"By the way, all those fireworks were eco-friendly and fully permitted, in case you’re wondering."

He was holding something in his other hand.

"This is excessive," Akira whispered in my mind. "Even I’m impressed. The man went all out."

I responded silently, "Tell me I’m not dreaming."

"If it’s a dream, we’re having the same one," Akira answered. "And honestly, I’m starting to question your taste if you’re not already head over heels for this Alpha."