𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐒 | 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐒

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄

On the Sunday night of the gentleman's final, there was always a dinner held by Wimbledon called the Champions Dinner or Ball. Clara and Carlos, both being champions, were obligated to attend, although Carlos would've rather stayed home and watched the Euro final between Spain and England.

On the other hand, Clara had been looking forward to attend this event. She enjoyed going to glamorous occasions, and tonight was no exception. Clara stood before the mirror in her Ralph Lauren embellished silk evening dress, the floor-grazing skirt flowing elegantly around her. The tonal crystal straps sparkled, and the backless silhouette added allure. A makeup artist had already come over to perfect her look and straighten her curly hair and put it into a sleek low ponytail. All that was left for Clara was to slide on her matching silver stilettos and grab her silver clutch.

"You look so beautiful, mi amor." Lucia said as she entered the room, resting her head in the crook of Clara's neck and rubbing her arms affectionately. "Thank you Lucia, so do you," Clara replied, a warm smile spreading across her face. The two stood in front of the full-length mirror that leaned against the wall of the bedroom, admiring Clara's reflection. Lucia was dressed in a black pantsuit, which was perfectly tailored to accentuate her small figure. She had to accompany Clara to this event, as her agent.

With Lucia's steady grip, Clara navigated the staircase with purpose, her heels clicking against the polished wood. As they reached the foyer, Carlos stood waiting, adjusting his simple Louis Vuitton suit that he was sent by the French fashion house.

Clara paused for a moment at the bottom of the stairs. She straightened her shoulders, and fixed her dress. Carlos met her gaze, his eyes scanning her gown, appreciating the way it flowed with her movements. With a nod of acknowledgment, Clara stepped forward, and she linked arms with Carlos, their movements synchronised as they approached the front door. Just as they were about to step outside, Carlos' agent, Jose, appeared in their path, focused on his cellphone.

"Hang on a moment," he said, glancing up briefly. "I just wanted to clear some things up with Clara." The couple paused, curiosity piqued as they awaited Jose's instructions, ready to hear what he had to say.

"What's wrong, Jose?" Clara asked, her tone steady. It was unusual for Carlos' agent to seek her out directly, so she sensed that this was important.

"People on X are sharing a picture of you in a compromising position with a strange man at Carlos's match today." The room went quiet, and a wave of confused glances passed among the group, especially towards Clara, whose brow furrowed in concern.

"Can we see this picture?" Lucia asked, her tone a mix of curiosity and skepticism. Jose lifted up his phone to show them the post. It revealed Clara on the big screen at Wimbledon, her hand clasped around the arm of Lando Norris, the Formula One racer, both of them smiling broadly.

"Dammit, Jose, you call this a 'compromising position'?" Lucia exclaimed, her annoyance bubbling to the surface. "You had me so worried." She crossed her arms, tapping her foot impatiently as she glared at the phone.

Jose shrugged, his expression a blend of confusion and regret, unsure how to respond to her. "But Clara, who is this man?" Lucia pressed, her gaze now fixed on Clara.

"This looks like Lando Norris, the Formula One racer," Carlos interjected casually, pointing at the screen while his eyes remained on Clara.

"Why are you holding onto his arm?" he asked, the hint of a grin playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Guys, this is nothing serious," she said, her tone firm yet frustrated. "He's a big fan of Carlos, and so am I. We were just celebrating the win together." She gestured dismissively at the phone, trying to deflect everyone's attention away from the image.