The Virgin Bride

The Start

After a month, I had already managed to have a registered trademark. How?

It had been easy after making some calls and mentioning the last name Sallow at the trademark registration office. I hated having to use Arthur to get something of my own, but otherwise, I knew others would ignore me and I wouldn't be able to get my revenge on him.

My brand was based on my own name "Christine Love." Although, of course, I had added the last word because the name had already been registered by someone else. I intended to sell my own image, so to speak, to be an influencer, and model of my own products. The idea had come to my mind the day I received all the clothes I had bought. I wasn't entirely comfortable with them since I wasn't used to wearing that more flirtatious and sensual style. But upon trying one out, that is, going out on the street and seeing for myself if any change had occurred in me, I realized that clothes do make the man, unfortunately.

Both men and women looked at me on the street. At first, I had doubts about myself and the image I projected. I didn't want my dermatologist or my makeup artist to boost my self-esteem to the sky without having something to hold onto. But those looks of intrigue and envy helped me feel a bit more confident about my image.

I opened a page on i********:. What better place to promote yourself than on that page where nothing was what it seemed?

I hired a professional photographer, and in my own living room, which was quite ostentatious and interesting, the "likes" came rolling in, and so did the followers.

In just under two months, I had sponsors knocking on my door and brands eager for me to promote their products since mine were selling like hotcakes. What was I selling?

I had decided to buy a couple of boxes of sweaters, skirts, coats, and autumn-style blouses since the season was near. All at a good price and, of course, in a smaller size to make the curves of my body, which weren't many, stand out dramatically with the help of the excellent photographs that had been taken of me.

And during all that time, I hadn't heard from Arthur. The bastard was too busy with his floozies or too ashamed to set foot in this house. I didn't know for sure, but the scoundrel didn't know that everything I was doing was, in a way, because of him.

Arthur was a well-known businessman, the owner of different companies. He was, so to speak, the owner of a consortium that managed these small companies. And there was one in particular that interested me excessively, a magazine.

It's curious that, despite today's technology, magazines are still being printed. Many have already made their move to the digital business. But this one in particular, despite also venturing into technology, still had physical magazines.

It wasn't precisely about fashion, but about business and influential people. Every week we received a copy, so I was very aware of what they usually published there. So with my brand and how popular it was, I hoped very soon that their magazine would notice me and invite me for an interview.

It might sound silly, that is, having to wait for them to interview me, but I had a very well-thought-out plan.

That magazine we received was courtesy of the consortium owner, Arthur. But this house wasn't the only address it was sent to. There were two other addresses, and I knew that because each delivery receipt noted them.

The main residence of Mr. Sallow, his apartment, and the address of the apartment he bought in my name.

The jerk even got that woman a subscription to his magazine. But by now, I didn't really care. My only focus was on revenge, and that woman would get what she deserved too.

My plan was simply to get Arthur and the whole Elite to notice me. And even more shocking would be what I planned to reveal in that magazine. Of course, because of the revelation I intended to make, I feared that the interview might not be published at all, but I hoped Arthur wouldn't bother listening to the editor to approve the publication. I hoped it would turn out that way.

I was thrilled with what I had accomplished in such a short time. I had already started receiving my first earnings from the sales I had made. And although it wasn't much, I planned to open a savings account to hire a lawyer and thus be able to divorce Arthur. In the meantime, I would continue using his money without shame or embarrassment.

But one day, without warning, someone knocked on my door, someone I never expected to see again in my life. My sister.

"You're impressive," Sophie said, sitting at the same table where I was waiting for my order to be brought.

I had planned to take a few photos for i********: with a leather jacket I wanted to add to my product line. It was designed to be quite warm with winter just around the corner, so I expected good sales, but I didn't expect Sophie to ruin my photo shoot.

"What are you doing here?" I complained, as that place was reserved for my photographer, who for some reason was running late. "The last time I saw you was... Oh yes, at my wedding! How long ago was that? More than a year?”

"Did you want your older sister to interrupt your honeymoon?" she said. But to me, it seemed like mockery. Did she know something about my marriage? That we hadn't actually consummated it?