WHEN LOVE LASTS

Chapter 7: A New Adventure Awaits

'MERCY'

"I can't believe I'm going on a three-week cruise!" Mercy exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement. She paused to glance at Clo, who was busy whipping up breakfast in the kitchen.

"Full of handsome young bachelors your age," Clo added with a teasing grin.

"Yeah, yeah, but I don’t want one!" Mercy shot back, rolling her eyes.

"Never say never; you might just find one," Clo responded, smirking as she poured coffee into two mugs. Mercy shook her head, dismissing her friend's playful jab.

"You’re speaking nonsense. I’m going there as Bruno's stylist—no relationships," she insisted.

"If you say so, ma'am," Clo replied, lifting her hands in mock surrender. They both burst into laughter, the sound filling the cozy kitchen.

As breakfast wrapped up, they dove into a frantic last-minute packing session. "I feel like this is going to be an interesting trip," Clo mused, glancing at Mercy, who was glued to her tablet.

"Are you even listening to me?" Clo broke the silence.

"Sorry, Clo! Tomorrow I need to dress Mr. Volemont for the Charity Gala. It’s stressing me out!" Mercy admitted, her brow furrowing.

"Girl, you’re good at this! Don’t stress. We have to think about reaching the yacht first," Clo reassured her, grabbing the tablet from Mercy’s hands.

With a determined look, she pulled out a bottle of wine. "We have a few hours left before we join the yacht that will change our lives, so let’s drink to that!" Clo declared, her enthusiasm infectious.

Mercy couldn’t help but smile at her friend's craziness. They poured wine into cups, cranked up the music, and danced around the living room, laughter mixing with the melodies. Hours flew by, and soon they called a taxi, excitement bubbling as they headed to the yacht.

As they approached, the yacht loomed larger than they had imagined, its grandeur leaving them awestruck. They felt a twinge of intimidation as they walked to the entrance, greeted by two stern security guards.

A young, beautiful woman in a black pencil skirt and crisp white shirt approached them with a bright smile. "It must be Ms. Williams and Ms. Knight, right?"

Clo beamed back, "Correct! It’s us!"

The young lady, slightly taken aback by their exuberance, quickly recovered. "Please follow me; I’ll take your bags."

She led them down a luxurious passageway, opening the first door to reveal a lavish room with a balcony overlooking the water. "This will be your room, Ms. Knight," she said. "And Ms. Williams, please follow me."

Mercy’s heart sank. "We’re not sharing a room?" she asked, giving the lady her best puppy eyes.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Williams. It is Mr. Volemont's order for you two to have separate rooms," the lady explained, her tone apologetic.

With a frown, Mercy waved goodbye to Clo, and they agreed to meet for dinner after freshening up.

After what felt like ages, Mercy finally found her room. It was twice the size of Clo's, featuring a mini lounge and a bar with a spacious balcony. "This is one of our best rooms," the lady said, smiling at Mercy. "The other two rooms belong to Mr. Goodmen and Mr. Volemont. My name is Amy, and I will be assisting you during your stay."

Mercy was still in disbelief. "Thank you, Amy, but are you sure this is supposed to be my room?"

"Yes, I am very sure. Mr. Volemont requested you stay close; that’s why you got the Volemont Suite," Amy said, a hint of admiration in her voice.

Mercy smiled, still processing everything. "He’s a very weird guy," she thought to herself.

"I’ll leave you to freshen up. I’ll see you at dinner," Amy said, turning to leave.

"Wait! I don’t know where dinner is," Mercy called after her.

"No worries; Mr. Volemont will be here soon," Amy assured her before exiting, leaving Mercy with a swirl of questions.

After a refreshing shower, Mercy slipped into a simple evening dress that clung beautifully to her curves, accentuated by a bold swipe of red lipstick. Just as she was about to slip on her stylist uniform, a knock on the door startled her.

"Maybe it’s Clo," she thought, opening the door only to find Bruno Volemont standing before her, looking effortlessly handsome in casual clothes.

"Mr. Volemont! What a surprise!" she managed to say, her heart racing.

"Are you sure it is?" he smirked, stepping closer, which made her instinctively back away until her back met the wall.

"Wha—what are you doing?" she stammered, her body tingling with nervous energy.

"Don't worry; I won't do anything. You're not my type," he whispered, his breath brushing against her ear, sending shivers down her spine.

"Come to my room; you need to style me for this evening's sail away party. I need to look my best," he said, leaving her breathless as he stepped back, the warmth of his presence replaced by a sudden chill.

Mercy followed him into his room, which was similar to hers but even more extravagant, boasting a large veranda. She approached his closet and began searching for the perfect outfit. After what felt like an eternity, she found a stunning ensemble that would surely impress.

As she made her way to the bedroom, she found Bruno lounging without a shirt, revealing a chiseled physique that made her heart skip a beat.

"You like what you see?" he teased, pulling her back into the moment.

"I'm here with your outfit for tonight," she said, trying to maintain her professionalism despite her racing thoughts. "I chose something comfortable yet stylish."

"Let’s see if I like it," he replied with a playful grin. "You can wait for me in the lounge unless you want to give me a show."

With her cheeks burning, she left quickly, gathering her composure. Moments later, he emerged from his room looking stunning, the outfit accentuating his features just as she envisioned.

"Not bad, Ms. Williams," he complimented, and she couldn’t help but return his smile.

After a few final adjustments, he declared, "Let’s go for dinner, my little stylist."

As they walked into the grand lounge, all eyes turned to them, and Mercy felt a rush of anxiety. She quickly slipped away, spotting Clo and racing to her side.

The night dragged on, filled with familiar faces that stirred memories she wished to forget—namely Isaac, who was serenading the crowd with his saxophone, and Jessica, who shot her daggers from across the room.

Needing air, Mercy stepped outside for a moment of solace. She was met by the voice of Bruno behind her. "Much better than tomorrow's charity ball, isn't it?"

She turned to face him, surprised. "How do you survive all these parties?" she asked, genuinely curious.

"I guess I’m used to it now. You will be too," he replied with a smile that made her heart flutter.

"Oh no, I don’t have to attend these parties," she protested.

"Now, as my stylist, you will," he said, leaving her standing there, shocked and uncertain of what this new adventure would bring.