Loving The Flame

Chapter Six

Liam hardly visits Anderson's Empire. It's never been his cup of tea to be involved in the family business, but lately, ever since his last encounter with Alora, he's been displaying some peculiar behaviour. It was his plan—a way to get her back—but it's a plan that didn't work. Unfortunately, the outcome of the conversation was far from what he had anticipated, and it only managed to exacerbate the situation. And now, though he is doing his very best to cover his true emotion, it's as if that meeting completely shattered him.

“And it's quite surprising that we continued to receive visits from the prince, of all people!” Joseph rises from his seat, warmly welcoming his best friend with open arms as he approaches him, walking around his desk.

"Not me," he says with a smile as they share a hug. Joseph works in the legal department of Anderson's Empire, and despite their shared upbringing, they possess contrasting perspectives on life. "I'm feeling rather bored," Liam remarks while seated, gazing at his friend's name plate on his desk.

"So, you're saying this girl holds some kind of significance?" he inquires, pouring half a glass of cognac for both of them. "There's no shame in that," he says, offering him a glass and settling into a leather chair in front of him.

“She was never the only one,” he calmly belittles the significance of his relationship with Alora. "If she was, you would have been the first to meet her," he clarified for him. However, it's clear that there is a void in his life, and he must find himself to fill it.

“But she put up with you for two years,” she says with a smile as he settles into his seat. "Anyway, if this motivates you to join our company now, that would be outstanding," he adds.

"Mr. Brown," he says, arching his forehead at him playfully with sarcasm. "Your expectations may be a bit unrealistic. I thoroughly enjoy what I do," he explains with a mischievous smile, taking a sip from his glass. He is a movie producer, and his track record of success has been consistent since he began.

"Certainly, there's no doubt about it," Joseph says with a smile. "But we really need you here. We have recently made the decision to collaborate with models for our upcoming project," he explains.

"Which one, the tour thing or the charity club?" he asks, sounding taken aback.

"The face of the company will represent both," he explains. "You have a deeper understanding of models." They both chuckled at the remark he just made. "Jokes aside, your father has already made his decision, and the necessary training has already begun," he explains. "We could really use your assistance," he says. After a moment of contemplation, they fall silent as Liam ponders the situation. He quickly finishes the remaining liquid in his glass, taking in the intense flavour that lingers on his tongue and travels down his throat, causing him to grimace.

"So that's what all the commotion is about," he remarks, recalling the flurry of activity as employees scurry to display something prominently for all visitors to see upon entering the building. "No," he states abruptly as he rises from his seat. "I suppose I'm done with models," he remarks, a smile playing on his lips as he rises from his seat.

"Hold on," Joseph says, trailing behind him. "I'm finished here. Let's go out for some drinks," he casually suggests, strolling over to retrieve his coat from the hanger. Liam can't help but smile, appreciating his friend's thoughtfulness. It's clear to him that he doesn't want to leave him by himself when he's feeling down. After their conversation, they both exited the office.

They stroll towards the lift, maintaining a serene silence while patiently awaiting their departure. Joseph is completely absorbed in his phone, immersed in a digital file his secretary sent him, while Liam stands silently, his hands casually tucked into his grey trouser pockets.

"You never stopped working," Liam complains as they stroll out of the elevator. They head towards the lobby to exit the building, and Joseph glances back at the poster with a smile, appreciating the captivating beauty of their company model. He glances at his friend, who was completely oblivious, and chuckles softly.

"You're definitely done with models," he remarks, nodding in agreement with his friend's response.

It was as if time had halted, and every fibre of Liam's being was suspended in disbelief. His eyes widen in shock, his eyebrows furrowing as his frown deepens. He stands perfectly still, his body tensed in disbelief. His head tilts to the left, his lips parting slightly and going dry, the taste of shock lingering on his tongue. He can taste his own racing heartbeat and the metallic tang of adrenaline filling his mouth. as he tries to make sense of what he's seeing. His eyes fixed on the three females entering the building, but the one leading the walk took his entire attention.

The burgundy bodycon dress clings to her curves, with the long sleeves accentuating her toned arms. Her black stilettos click against the floor with each step she takes. Her long, straight honey-blond hair cascades down her back, catching the light and shimmering. Her lips are painted a deep, blood-red colour, giving off an oily sheen. A black coat is draped over her shoulder, adding an air of mystery to her entrance. The scent of her perfume lingers in the air—a mix of floral and musk that is both alluring and bold. Two females follow closely behind her, their eyes fixed on the way ahead of them. Four ladies follow them, each holding a file tight against their chests. Despite the commotion around her, she walks with purpose, her head held high and exuding confidence. Three of them made a grand entrance, but all eyes were on her. She moved with regal grace, as if the world were her kingdom and she were its queen.

"Alora," he murmurs, his gaze fixed on her as she glides past him, seemingly oblivious to his presence. His gaze lingers on her as she gracefully glides into the spacious corridor, disappearing into the awaiting lift. His heart ached at the sight of her, aching like a bruise that never fully heals. "No way!" he exclaims in a whisper audible only to himself, gazing up at the larger-than-life poster containing the image of the company's face. She possesses an exquisite appearance, radiating a captivating smile that reaches the depths of her sparkling eyes. Down at the corner bottom of the poster is her signature in her handwriting. It reads: Alora.

***

Blaring music tinted with the non-stop chatter, buzzing energy of a busy photoshoots, mingling scents of perfume touched by the hair spray, the smell of new clothes, freshly applied makeup and the hustle bustle of a busy schedule are all parts of a model life. It’s a dazzling and frenetic existence, an endless cycle of perfectly orchestrated chaos, all in the pursuit of beauty and perfection. And as a novice I am about to embark on a carefully planned journey, I am both excited and nervous walking into a new world with unfamiliar change of business I have ever known.

I was in utter disbelief when I found out that I had become the face of one of the largest corporations. I am scheduled to move into the flat in three days, which the company has thoughtfully prepared for me. I have been tasked with representing the company in the international tour sector, organising events, and being the face of various fundraising events at the charity club, which is dedicated to carrying out numerous acts of kindness.

Based on the terms of my contract, the company now has complete control over every aspect of my life. This includes dictating my dietary choices, determining my whereabouts, managing my public image, selecting my wardrobe, and even deciding how I spend my free time. As a representative of the organisation, there was no room for individuality or personal desires—only the expectation to uphold the esteemed reputation they had carefully crafted over years.

Certainly, I have devised my own strategy. I seek retribution, and I understand the importance of patience in its delivery. I can't wait to witness Liam's reaction when he discovers that I am the one representing his father's company. I want to make it clear to him that he holds no significance in my life anymore, and I intend to convey this through my actions. It's not enough, but everything will happen one step at a time, like it already is. It's almost as if the universe wants me to get even with him and that everything is working out perfectly beyond my expectations.

I am dressed in a striking grey chiffon dress that elegantly drapes over my leg. A photographer is diligently capturing different angles for the poster. This is a different photoshoot from my previous work bookings, which mainly focused on makeup. My face is adorned with a neutral tan-brown lipstick that complements my skin tone perfectly. I wear my long, curly hair in its natural state. As I daydream about getting revenge, a genuine smile lights up my face as I stare into the camera, confident that the perfect shot has been captured and hoping it will be chosen for the final poster.

***

Ask, and you shall receive, right? I think this is what just happened.

I thought I was quite brave and someone who could face her problem straight ahead, but just as I saw Liam entering the building, I thought my heart stopped for a moment in shock. I didn’t plan to see him so suddenly, and of all days, on the first day, we came to see Anderson's empire and our office.

“Oh, sh*t,” Olivia whispers from behind me as she realises it’s Liam, but since I am walking in silence and with a confidence I don’t know where I got, she plays along. Only she and I are aware of the situation, but I have made the choice to withhold my long-term plan for revenge from Olivia. I'm unsure of where to even begin with it.

It’s clear on his face—the shock. His face is tense, and his eyebrows are furrowed in shock. He stands rigid, unable to move, as he watches me walk past him. As I walk past him, I can hear the faint sound of him whispering my name under his breath. It is like a soft breeze, almost indistinguishable. It was a collision of emotions and egos, a seismic shifting of the tides, a moment caught in a snapshot of hurt, betrayal, and cold indifference.

It is a slap in the face for him, I am sure; my face is hugely displaying that very smile in full view, and I am here, ignoring his presence like he never happened in my life. His ego must be wounded beyond repair, and this is nothing like what I felt like when I saw him with my best friend.

As we step into the lift, Olivia and I exchange a knowing glance, exhaling deeply.

“Is there something I should be aware of?” Isabel questions our behaviour, clearly perplexed.

"That was quite the entrance," Olivia remarks, using her hand to fan herself.

“There will be a greater audience on the fifth floor,” Jen, my assistant, explains, and we share a knowing smile, keeping our secret to ourselves.

"Well, it's nothing new for us," Isabel remarks with a nonchalant shrug, straightening herself. "But how about we recreate that dramatic entrance we just made?" she suggests with a smile. "It brings back memories on stage," she says, hinting at her longing for those times already.

"Absolutely." I concur with her viewpoint. "We should definitely consider doing that." I give a small smile and subtly acknowledge. Attempting to maintain my composure, I tried to appear as nonchalant as I did when I caught sight of him.

"And this time, while breathing. Please?" Olivia lets out a playful giggle as we patiently wait for the lift doors to open.