forgotten vows

Chapter 6: Her Biggest Trouble

When they reached Brad's house, his assistant was nervously waiting at the door. The young woman, barely in her twenties, gazed at her with the desperation of someone who believes they've found a savior.

"Miss Tiffany, you’re here! Brad just kicked me out. He said he doesn’t want me anymore!"

Tiffany nodded, impatience etched on her face as she knocked on the door a few times. "Brad, it’s me open up!"

A loud crash echoed from inside, startling the assistant. She knew all too well that Brad had broken something once again.

Who would guess that Brad, always in the public eye with his charming smile and a cool, aloof demeanor, behaves like a spoiled child behind closed doors?

He had gone through three assistants in a single month and had just unceremoniously tossed this one out. She couldn’t even guess what his issue was. What did he want?

Regardless, as the Royal Family’s most lucrative artist, who would dare to confront him?

Tiffany took a deep breath and knocked on the door again, this time more tentatively. "Brad, this is your last chance. Open the door, or I’m leaving!"

She acted as if she would turn to leave, and behind her, the assistant seemed on the verge of tears.

To her surprise, the door swung open just then.

"You’d dare to leave? If you do, I’ll stay in here and ignore the world outside. You’ll have to handle all the appearances!" Brad stood there in a loose cotton tee, showcasing his shoulders, looking every bit the charming young man that made women envious. With his striking physique and a playful smile, screams followed him wherever he went. His rise to fame had been meteoric.

Tiffany had started working with him during her first year as an agent, and he quickly became her biggest headache the type who relished making trouble for her.

Ignoring the assistant’s shocked expression, he pulled her in close.

"Where’ve you been today? You said you’d be with me to sign the contract! I looked everywhere for you. You just wanted to trick me into thinking I’d go alone, didn’t you?" He rattled off questions.

Tiffany shrugged. "I had an emergency to handle. It couldn’t be avoided. Don’t give me that look! You signed with them just the same. They’ll treat you like a national treasure. I’ll just be your bodyguard!"

Seeing her casual attitude made him fume. How was it that every woman he met watched him with admiration, sometimes chasing after him like a lovesick puppy, while she seemed completely unfazed?

He remembered their first introduction well. She had arrived in her black-framed glasses, looking like a schoolteacher. The manager had introduced him, and she hadn’t even lifted her eyes. Instead, she bowed deeply and said, "Hello, I’m Tiffany. Please take care of me!"

Three years into the gig, she still dressed like that so unsophisticated.

Now he watched her sprawled out on his expensive couch, resembling a tangled octopus. Frustrated, he stomped over and yanked off her glasses. Once those obstructions were gone, her bright eyes sparkled with a vibrant energy.