Chapter 4: Daniil

The day had rolled around, and I'd dragged myself to honor the invitation from Solenoir. I expected nothing from it, only to find myself captivated.

Who was she?

The runway show was over, and they were throwing some sort of after-party, but I couldn't stop thinking about the model who'd caught my eye.

She was a stunning brunette, tall and curvy. Her body was literally an hourglass. Her hair was styled to frame her youthful face, drawing attention to those big blue eyes that shone with intelligence. She couldn't have been more than twenty…twenty-one tops. A kid compared to me.

Yet she was captivating. She carried herself with such grace…the picture of elegance and class. A fucking bombshell.

I sat at a table with Andrei and Gabriel Solenoir, the brand's owner. Gabriel's business partners flanked us, and we were all dressed to the nines in our suits. He was itching to get the agreement signed and sealed.

At first, I was bored out of my fucking mind; then, everything changed when she walked out. It was like something had snapped in me. I was locked in, my eyes unable to break away from her gaze. Like a magnet, my attention was fixed on her.

She was a total stand-out, and she didn't cower beneath my attention.

I tried to stop myself from thinking about her, but my attempts were all futile. The lady just wouldn't stop racing through my mind. For the first time, I had no control over my own thoughts. It was concerning because, deep down, I knew that I liked the feeling.

Gabriel's voice forced me back to reality before I could drift too far. I had been expecting this, given that the man was desperate and I was clearly absent-minded.

"Mr. Wolkov?"

I glanced over at him.

"Are you still with us?" he asked, trying to control his annoyance at my behavior, knowing full well that he couldn't vent it.

I was silent, and he continued anyway, getting the message.

"We've been at this for a while now, and I think it is time we finalize this deal…this week, preferably," he suggested, taking a sip of his champagne. "This deal will be beneficial to both of us, and I see no reason to keep wasting time over it. With your family's influence, support, and connections, the sky will be our starting point—and God knows that I can't wait to start this business in Russia."

He chuckled lightly. "Can you imagine the profit we're going to make from this? It will be humongous."

I looked at him and smirked faintly. Gabriel was right about this being a mutually beneficial deal; however, it would benefit him more, hence his desperation.

"Look, I know you're a man of few words, but I can't afford to lose this—" He paused for a second to calm himself and rephrase his statement. "It would be a shame if we both lost because this deal didn't go well, don't you think?"

I reached for my glass of champagne and took a sip before replying, "I assure you, Mr. Solenoir, you will have your deal."

I watched a smile line his lips as I leaned back in my chair.

"Now, that's what I like to hear." He snapped his fingers, and a waiter on standby rushed to refill his glass. "Cheers to that," he said, raising his glass, and his business partners did the same.

"What are we cheering for?" a voice broke in.

I shifted my gaze to the speaker, a man in his mid-forties, who was accompanied by two slender women.

The newcomer was dressed in a brown suit. He seemed very fashionable compared to everyone at the table. The women with him were pretty gorgeous, but their relationship didn't seem to be the usual one when men had women on their arms.

"Ah! Asher, my man!" Gabriel declared with a smile, opening his arms wide. "Please, take a seat." He gestured at an empty seat beside him.

Asher dismissed the ladies and slid into the chair.

"That was quite the show you put up, my friend. I was impressed, I must confess." He applauded him. "You did good."

"Thank you, sir," he replied.

"The runway show," I said to him. "That was you?"

"I wouldn't take all the credit," he answered with a light chuckle.

"Ohh, pay no attention to him; he's just being modest," Gabriel chipped in. "Asher is a great designer—the best I know—and he handled the show all by himself."

I couldn't care less if he was being humble or if he'd single-handedly pulled off the whole event. That wasn't my concern. What mattered was that, as the man in charge, he'd know the identity of the model who'd caught my eye.

Right as I was thinking about her, I spotted her in the crowd to my right. There she was, hot as fuck in a simple yet sleek black dress with a strategically placed slit that showed off her toned thigh.

Fuck.

I stroked my jaw reflexively, eyes fixed on her.

She was chatting with some women, her smile and graceful movements oozing sophistication. The dress hugged her curves, accentuating the dip of her waist and the sexy flare of her hips. She stood out to me, not just because of her banging body but also her radiant smile.

I could feel Gabriel's eyes on me, and he traced my gaze to the girl.

"That's one of the models that walked the runway, am I right?" he asked.

Asher glanced in the girl's direction with a faint grin.

"Ah, yes…she did good, didn't she?" he asked.

"Of course," Gabriel replied. "Her performance was great. But I've never seen her before. Who is she?"

"Funny story. She's a cashier in one of our outlets," Asher said. "I found her by chance when I needed a replacement for Anna after she bailed on me at the last minute. I asked her if she could do a catwalk for me there in the store."

"She did?" Gabriel asked, indulging him.

Asher nodded. "I knew she'd be amazing."

"Well, you weren't wrong," Gabriel said, sipping his drink. "She was spectacular."

"What's her name?" I asked, not shifting my gaze off her.

"Vivian. Vivian Kennedy."

Vivian.

As though I'd summoned her, she looked in my direction, and our eyes met. I didn't break my stare, and she didn't, either. It was obvious that she recognized me.

Good. Very good.

She blinked a few times and smiled at her friends before excusing herself.

I trailed her with my eyes and realized she was probably heading to the bar to get another drink. This was my window. I rose to my feet without saying a word to anyone at the table as I made my way to the bar.

She was seated on a stool at the counter, a cocktail in front of her, as she slowly spun the straw in the drink.

"You know, if I didn't know better, I'd say you're stalking me," she said as I halted beside her, resting a hand on the countertop.

"What makes you think you know better?" I asked, a faint grin tugging at the corner of my lips.

She looked at me, and it hit me just how much hotter she was up close. Her blue eyes beamed, and her brunette hair, which fell loosely on her shoulders, shimmered in the soft light.

"My gut," she replied, her eyes subtly sizing me up.

"Is that so?" I raised my brows instinctively.

"It is," she replied. "I saw you in the crowd while on the runway, and I saw you looking again a few moments ago. Now, here you are."

"What can I say? I've been bewitched by a beautiful woman." A smirk settled on my lips.

I saw her eyes widen and her cheeks turn slightly pink before she snapped her gaze away from me, trying to act unbothered.

"Let me guess," she said, pondering a bit, "you've caught so many women with this line, and now, you think it'll work on me."

"Is it not?" A faint smile stretched across my lips; I was intrigued by her.

She shook her head. "I'm afraid you're going to have to try a little harder than that."

Vivian was different, just as I thought. She didn't seem interested in me the way other girls usually did, which was spectacular.

"I'm Daniil." I stretched out a hand. "Daniil Wolkov."

She looked at me for a moment and shook my hand.

"I guess you already know my name," she said with conviction.

"Why do you think that?" I slid onto a stool beside her.

"Well, for starters, you were at the same table as Asher, and I noticed that you men were talking about me. Of course, he must have told you my name," she explained. "Maybe that's why you're here?"

I was impressed, and a scoff escaped me.

"You're perceptive. I like that," came my response. "So, tell me, Vivian: What type of man do you think Daniil Wolkov is?"

Vivian chanced a glance my way again, her cheeks still tinged pink.

"You strike me as a man who's used to getting what he wants. Someone who's confident…maybe a little too confident," she explained. "You're obviously rich and powerful, so you feel you can have any woman you wish."

"Interesting," I declared calmly. "Is that what you think I'm doing here, trying to get you?"

"I think we both know the answer to that."

"Let me, then. I could fly you out tonight. Let's go somewhere you've always dreamed of," I propose.

I caught the slight surprise on her face at my offer, her lips pursing. Girls liked to be swept off their feet, and I was sure she was no different.

That's why her answer was unexpected.

"You make yourself difficult to refuse. I'll give you that," she said. "But I'm afraid this time, you won't get what you want." She smiled and rose to her feet. "Enjoy the rest of the evening, Mr. Wolkov."

She gave me another grin and slowly walked away, knowing I was watching the sway of her hips as she went.

Well, I didn't expect that.

I wasn't used to being turned down. I probably should've been angry, but I wasn't. Somehow, her rejection made me want her more.

Is that a challenge?