"Better the devil you know than the devil you don't".

A popular Spanish saying.

"Come in, Samantha, make yourself at home." Darien gestured with his hand to accompany the invitation.

The young woman entered with her backpack on, having refused to let him carry it. In fact, from the moment Charles—his chauffeur—had picked them up in the limousine at the main entrance of the hospital, she couldn't get over her amazement looking around in all directions with her mouth open. And it was obvious that she felt more out of place than a skunk at a perfume launch party for millionaires.

She tried to view the display of wealth with a feminine eye and found it difficult to put herself in that position. He was not empathetic, and he had quickly become accustomed to the good life. He barely remembered the times when he used the garage of the modest house he rented to create his innovative programs—those that would later revolutionize the market—and the first brilliant ideas that would lead to Ties.

With great effort, he imagined seeing his property for the first time. And finally, he acknowledged that he would be just as amazed as Samantha, since he had had a 16th-century palace transported from France, stone by stone. It had cost him a fortune because at first, the French authorities had refused, and he had had to bribe many people. Once this hurdle was overcome, he had it installed in the middle of an extensive meadow of the finest grass, surrounded by an impenetrable forest where pines, eucalyptus and redwoods provided protection and perfumed the air. It was monitored by cameras and staff trained in security who made rounds twenty-four hours a day. And inside, he had fitted it with the comforts of the 21st century and the latest technologies.

"Come, Samantha." He grabbed her arm and led her to what would be her room.

When they got there, he checked that every tiny detail was in place. It was a suite dominated by blue tones and included a charming bedroom—which also contained a dressing room—a lovely living room, sofas, armchairs, several movie screens and countless pieces of musical equipment. Passing through the right door, there was an office that prominently featured a desk, work computers and gaming consoles, tablets, paper, and pens. And, moving towards the entrance on the right side, they entered the bathroom, which gave off a lemon scent and included jacuzzi-type hydromassages and shower, both with all sorts of jet settings.

Noting her continued silence, to help calm her down and make her feel welcome, he commented:

"If you don't like the blue, we can call my decorator and change it to your liking."

"No need, it's perfect." She seemed sincere.

Although it was true that at first he disliked the idea of hosting her in his home, by now he had adjusted to the situation. He considered that Samantha had earned points by calling his plastic woman a witch and driving her away from his home. Banning her from entering the palace suited him perfectly; he would have hated the busybody to disrupt his perfect order. Because he had a good read on the forty-something woman and knew that she wasn't one to just look and not try to sneak into his bed. He concluded that sharing his intimate life with the girl might even be fun. Now, if only she would talk; she gave the impression of a little mouse whose tongue had been eaten by a cat.

"Come, let's sit in the living room." He led her by the arm again.

They sat on the sofa, side by side. He waited a couple of minutes for her to relax, but she was still tense.

"Tell me, Samantha, are you uncomfortable staying here or is it because of the scene your friend made at the hospital when you told him you were coming with me?" He patted her hand sympathetically. "If it's any consolation, he's obviously in love with you."

"If he's so in love, why has he allowed that horrible witch to come between us for four years?" Samantha's expression was one of pain. "He does everything she tells him, it's like she's brainwashed him. I don't recognize him anymore!"

Suddenly, tears ran down her cheeks with the same intensity as the Great Flood. He remembered Rick's instructions to make her feel as comfortable as possible... And he hugged her. Then he placed her head on his chest as a form of comfort. He felt quite ridiculous, as he was used to women crying on other men's chests—after he left them—and not the other way around.

He understood them perfectly: they were dazzled by his attractiveness, fame, fortune, and his skills in bed. And that's why some of them were so persistent that he had to fend them off with hot water because they never gave up. "Who would have thought that I would get involved in such a surreal situation?", he thought while reluctantly stroking her hair. "I regret mentioning Lanky. After all, it's a subject that neither concerns nor interests me." Still, he put his twisted mind to work and came up with a solution.

"Samantha, stop crying." She focused on him with her huge emerald eyes and obeyed. "Together, we will make your friend come to his senses." He checked the time on his mobile. "I'll explain it to you in a bit. Now come on, I have a surprise for you!"

They stood up and walked into the spacious hall. They walked hand in hand, as Darien wanted to transmit his strength and relentless energy through contact. Just as they arrived, the main entrance opened. Ten or twelve people—whose uniforms indicated that they were part of the domestic staff—were carrying countless bags and packages, which on the outside displayed the logos of the most exclusive brands.

"Perfect!" Darien, pleased, looked at his phone again. "And one minute early! Well done, guys and girls, you did great!"

He was pleased to see that the well-deserved praise had an immediate effect, as the faces of his subordinates showed that they were motivated. Even their steps became quicker and more assured.

After a brief pause, he informed Samantha:

"Everything they're bringing is for you. I gave your size to my personal shopper and instructed them to put together a wardrobe for you. I would have liked to have gone shopping with you, but you shouldn't exert yourself yet. Now go to your room and try on the clothes. First, study the sheet, it tells you what goes with what. In the meantime, I'll wait for you in the living room. Then you can show me, and we'll choose something nice together. Then I'll dress up too, to match you. We'll take photos and post them on Ties, on both your profile and mine. What do you think of my plan?" He smiled from ear to ear, as if he had invented the pill for eternal youth.

With this initiative, he killed two birds with one stone, because the photos would also prove that Samantha was improving, and that the accident had had no consequences. If she sued him one day, they would serve as evidence.

"What do I think?" Samantha was stunned. "I appreciate your generosity, Darien. But I don't know if a broken heart can be fixed by trying on clothes and accessories, no matter how beautiful they are..."

"Oh, Samantha, you haven't grasped my plan!" He burst out laughing. "The method we'll use involves making your friend even more jealous, so he completely explodes and sends the witch packing. Jealousy never fails!"

"Do you think it will work?", the young woman looked hopeful.

"I don't think so, I'm sure of it!" He put his arm around her shoulders and dragged her back to the blue suite, the servants running behind them with the packages and bags. "What a Louis Vuitton, a Hermès, a Gucci or a Chanel can't achieve, nobody can." He stood her in front of him and winked, a moment the staff used to place the items on the bed and furniture and then leave the suite. "Also, I'll be in the photo with you and that's what will upset Lanky the most. What do you think of my plan now?"

She was supposed to be jumping for joy at the idea of ​​posing with him, not looking like she was being led to the slaughterhouse. "Doesn't she realize that I'm the most eligible bachelor and her friend doesn't even come close to me?!" he thought, astonished.

"I don't know, but it's worth a try..." She furrowed her brow, doubtful.

"Well, I'm absolutely sure!" He had found the only girl on planet Earth who didn't use the jealousy ploy. "Since he saw me by your side, he has become territorial. The best thing for your cause is for him to see that he has competition."

"Alright, let's do it!" Samantha agreed.

"Your aunt is supposed to think that you have gone off with a boy without saying anything so that he wouldn't put obstacles in your way, the photos will corroborate this story." He found it unusual to teach her basic details from the female manual of flirtation and family excuses.

He pushed her over to the large mirror and exclaimed:

"Get dressed!"

While waiting for Samantha, seated on the blue sofa, he began to check his mailbox and WhatsApp. He had twenty missed calls from the jinxed brunette and dozens of messages from her that included pornographic photos and videos, much more explicit than the one that had made him crash his beloved Lamborghini into the sign.

He immediately sent them to Rick with the following text:

"Counselor, here is the payment for your services."

He soon received a reply:

"My goodness! These videos are heart-stopping!"

He was surprised when his guest opened the door. She had put on the dress in record time! She had even put on brownish eyeshadow that highlighted her incredible green eyes. And she had put on red lipstick, which drew attention to her full, well-shaped lips. There were even a few drops of perfume. If his sense of smell didn't fail him, it was Daisy, by Marc Jacobs. He thought he could detect the faint aroma of violets, grapefruits and strawberries.

"You look spectacular!" He stood up and walked around her, analyzing every tiny detail. "Green enhances the color of your eyes. We will continue with the fitting later, but for the photo this is just right. In my opinion, there is no need to look any further. How do you see yourself?"

Sam walked to the giant mirror on the right side. She looked down at her feet clad in shiny emerald Stuart Weitzman sandals. Her gaze traveled up to the hem of the dress, which reached mid-thigh.

"Don't you think the skirt is too short?" she asked, uncertain.

"On the contrary, it's perfect!" Darien started clapping. "You look stunning!"

She continued with her examination. She looked at her breasts, which the low-cut dress and padded bra made appear more plentiful.

"Tell me and be honest: how do you see yourself?" Darien was impatient. "Because I think you look amazing! You're gorgeous, Lanky's eyes will pop out of their sockets."

"Yeah, I've never looked so good," she replied simply. "Come on, let's take the selfie."

Darien burst out laughing.

"We're not taking any selfie!" He found her increasingly amusing. "The occasion deserves that I call my personal photographer for an impromptu session." And he dialed a number on the phone.

Half an hour later, Max joined them. It was clear that he was very professional because he calculated the right light, the glow of the skins, the best spots in the house. And he arranged the accessories he used so that the images came out perfect. Darien had put on a dark grey tuxedo —which highlighted his appearance— and looked like the groom at a wedding. Sam was not far behind, she behaved like a fish in water and listened attentively to the photographer's instructions.

"Now I would like you to pretend to kiss each other, but without actually touching your lips," he asked them for the final touch.

"What if we overdo it?" the young woman whispered to him. "I don't think it's believable that a romance would suddenly arise between us two."

Darien let out a loud laugh and contradicted her:

"Believe me, Samantha, everything is going to move very fast now." He was still laughing. "So much so that you and I are old acquaintances at this point."

Max distracted them by announcing:

"I'll send you a quick sample in a couple of hours," and then he apologized: "I would need more time to create something unique, but you're in a hurry, right?"

"Very much in a hurry!" Darien nodded his head vigorously.

"You're very photogenic, Samantha, and big brands are looking for faces like yours. Would you let me send some of your photos to a few acquaintances? You could have some unique opportunities."

"Of course!" Darien answered Max for the girl.

If as a result of the accident she started a modeling career, it would be beneficial for him.

"But... but... I'm a librarian." Sam realized that her small, protected world was expanding by leaps and bounds.

"Let me do a survey and show you your possibilities. Then, when there is something concrete, you can decide. You shouldn't close any doors," Max convinced her.

Two and a half hours later, both Darien and Samantha were posting on their respective Ties profiles the photo where they appeared about to kiss.

Moreover, they tagged each other with the following caption:

Amazed at how quickly we complement each other! Love at first sight does exist!

Darien made it public in case the brunette came to snoop around. Rick would appreciate it, as friends were there to support each other.