Chapter 5: Vivian

It had been days since the show and after-party, but I was still reeling from the whole experience. I had been a model for, like, two minutes, but it had felt amazing!

Now, being back at my regular job felt…well, meh. I had gotten a taste of the glamor, and I was hooked! Of course, it'd feel weird being back to my old routine. My uniform, which had used to make me feel somewhat decent, now felt dull and unexciting.

It did help that the paycheck was also very fat.

A smile tugged at my lips as I recalled how Tyler was blown away after I'd gotten off the stage that evening; he was there in the crowd, even though I hadn't seen him. I hadn't seen anyone, really—save for the brown-eyed, arrogant man who had thought I was like the other girls who'd fall into his bed….

Not that I would mind sharing a bed with him.

Anyway, where was I? Right. Tyler. He'd found me later, and we'd jumped up and down excitedly as he told me I would be swamped with modeling gigs now.

I was caught up in the moment and basked in its euphoria, but I knew it was a one-time thing, and my job there was done. I was a stand-in for a real model and nothing more.

At least, that was what I thought.

But my skepticism was short-lived. Tyler's words came back to haunt me when I started receiving phone calls from modeling agencies, one after another.

I had dismissed his prediction as mere encouragement, but it seemed he had been spot on. The calls came in, each offering me a spot with their agency. I was taken aback by the sudden interest, my mind reeling with possibilities. Had I underestimated myself? Was I truly cut out for this modeling thing? The doubts lingered, and confusion soon settled in.

The modeling offers were lucrative, far surpassing my current salary. If I took a chance on this new path, I could save up enough money to fund my college dreams much faster. The prospect of achieving my goal sooner rather than later was tantalizing, and the temptation to take the leap grew stronger.

I needed time to think about this new chapter in my life because I knew that this wasn't something that I could rush into. I would need to put so many factors into consideration first.

My phone rang again, and I glanced at my lit screen. It was an unknown number—again. Deep down, I knew it was probably just another company calling to offer me a spot with them. It would be the seventh one today.

I heaved a sigh and answered. "Hello?"

"Hi," a masculine voice spoke from the other line. "Is this Ms. Vivian Kennedy?"

"Yes, it is," I replied. "And who am I talking to?"

"My name is Cater James from NLT," he introduced himself.

My eyes widened in astonishment at the name NLT. The renowned modeling agency's reputation preceded them, and I couldn't believe they were interested in me. It all seemed surreal, like a dream I couldn't wake up from. It was funny how, overnight, I went from obscurity to being courted by some of the industry's top players. This was a huge one, an opportunity that sent shivers down my spine, plaguing me with both thrill and terror. It was a whole new ball game, and I wasn't sure that I was ready to play.

"My company needs great models like you, and we're more than willing to sign you. You've got some potential that makes you unique, and the agency wants to help you grow in your career," he explained to me.

I was quiet, massaging my temples as my mind cycled through a million and one thoughts, all at the same time.

"Look, I know that you might have other offers, but I can guarantee you that our agency will double the price of whatever our competitors are offering. We know a star when we see one, and you, Ms. Kennedy, are a star that we'd love to help shine," he concluded, waiting for me to speak.

I was too stunned to respond, my mind reeling from the unexpected offer. His persuasive words hung in the air, tempting me with promises of fame and fortune. But I needed time to think, to process why NLT was willing to go all out for a newcomer like me. What did they see in me that I didn't? Why double the pay? I was a rookie, a mere blip on the modeling radar. My skepticism warred with the thrill of possibility, leaving me speechless and searching for answers.

I didn't know what it was, but something about him seemed too desperate. I was afraid of the outcome because if it turned out that he was telling the truth and I eventually got hired, my life would change for good. I wasn't ready for that just yet.

While these offers were enticing and promising, I still remained hesitant. The lure of easy money for college was strong, but I was afraid that I would lose sight of my true aspirations. Modeling wasn't my passion, and working as a saleswoman for Solenoir was only a means to an end. If I succumbed to glamor and prestige, if I signed the contract, I'd risk abandoning my dream to study finance.

Tyler never saw this as a problem. He always used to say that modeling was something that I was meant to do. He hated that I was ‘wasting' my time serving as a saleswoman, even though it was for a prestigious brand.

I let out a sigh. "Can I get back to you?" I asked him. "I'll need some time to think about your offer, if that's okay with you."

"Sure," he replied. "Take your time. But know this: Our agency rarely reaches out to models, only those we consider exceptional."

Exceptional? Wow!

"I appreciate that."

"Enjoy the rest of your day, Ms. Kennedy." He ended the call.

I set my phone on the table and buried my face in my palms, thinking about what to do next. I really needed the money and couldn't care less about fame and a glamorous lifestyle. I'd tasted it, and I loved it, but it wasn't my priority at the time. So, what if I accepted one of these offers?

My reluctance to embrace the industry stemmed from the mere fact that the industry was a scary place. I'd heard rumors about the dark side attached to the modeling business, the creepy and perverse things that some of those beautiful models went through just to land a gig. At first, I'd found it hard to believe until I heard from a friend's friend a few years back.

Her name was Jessica, and she shared her devastating experience. An agency owner had conditioned representation on sexual favors, crushing her aspirations. I'd witnessed her tears, her pain, and her disillusionment. These stories lingered, fueling my skepticism. Now, as I considered this opportunity, fears resurfaced. Other models' experiences from the dressing room haunted me—tales of men trading opportunities for sex. Some of the models laughed it off as a necessary evil, and others condemned it.

I didn't want any of that, and it was infuriating that these men saw women like us as objects to be used before offering a helping hand.

I frowned, unable to suppress the contempt roiling in my stomach.

Immediately, I found myself recalling an incident at the after-party a few nights ago, and a faint smile lined a corner of my lips. I should've been upset, given the content of my thoughts, but for some reason, I wasn't. Instead, I felt a weird sense of calm.

The man from the crowd had approached me during the party, and even now, I could still remember the smell of his cologne. As I shut my eyes, his rigid yet handsome face flashed in my head.

The Russian man was hot—dangerous but hot. He was older than I was, obviously. Yet I couldn't help but find him attractive. When we'd first locked eyes while I walked the runway, I had hoped to see him again despite myself.

He was smooth with conversation, but I had to be headstrong, especially since I'd realized that he was the type who always got what he wanted. I wouldn't be yet another girl he'd get into his bed without even trying.

Behind the good looks and class, something dark lurked within the mysterious Russian man, something evil. At this point, the faint smile that I was wearing was gradually fading away.

There was something menacing about him. I didn't know exactly what it was, but I knew it would be in my best interest if I stayed away from men like him. He seemed like trouble, and trouble was the last thing I needed at this point in my life.

Relax, Vivian. It's not like you're going to see him again.

Other voices in my head jumped in, claiming, Yeah, it's not like he's going to waltz in through the front door.

My eyes widened as I stood there, frozen in stock, gazing at the man walking in through the front door.

You were saying?

"You have got to be kidding me," I mumbled to myself, struggling to stay calm as I attended to a customer.

I bagged her order and handed it over to her with a warm smile. "Thank you for your patronage."

She flashed a grin at me and left.

I tried not to look at him as he walked toward me with a scary-looking guy at his side.

How did he find me?

It took me a few seconds to get a hold of myself, but eventually, I did, and I tried to remain composed. I made up my mind to attend to him as the customer that he was without any personal attachments. I hoped that he wouldn't bring up the incident of that night at the after-party.

"We meet again," he said to me with a cocky smirk, halting before the counter.

I faked a smile, a bit nervous. "Hi, welcome to Solenoir. How may I assist you today…sir?" I cleared my throat.

He looked at me without saying a word, but he still had that cocky smirk on his face. He was staring at me, and my heart was racing.

His dashing presence left me breathless, his gaze rendering me momentarily speechless. As the awkwardness grew, I struggled to regain control of my thoughts, my mind racing to compose myself and break free from the spell of his captivating eyes.

"Mr. Wolkov, how can I assist you today?" I tried again, almost slapping a hand over my mouth when I realized what I'd said.

His grin turned sly. "You still remember my name."

Ugh. I slipped up.

I was quietly stealing glances at the serious-faced man in a brown suit by his side, looking like the fucking Terminator.

"I can think of a few things you can assist me with," he responded, his eyes holding promise.

A dirty image flashed in my head, but I was quick to dismiss it.

It was inappropriate.

Get it together, girl! You're embarrassing yourself!

My voice of reason was screaming at me.

He noticed my discomfort and stepped away, settling into a sofa.

How relieving.

"Show me your finest suits," he said, crossing his legs as he balanced on the sofa like a boss.

He must have been a suit lover, given that both times I'd seen him before today, he'd been in suits.

I walked away and returned with a couple—ten of them, to be exact. It was the serious-faced guy who accepted them from me, displaying each for Daniil to see.

He didn't seem interested in the clothing, as his eyes were fixed on me the whole time, but as he glanced at a few, the subtle quirk of his brows made it evident that he didn't like them.

Daniil returned his gaze to me.

"Are you picking one already or what?" I asked, tired of being pinned beneath his stare.

"Unfortunately, none of these suits are as interesting as you," he declared, completely unruffled.

I couldn't hide my blush, but I kept my face straight.

"Maybe you should return when the new collection launches," I said, managing to squeeze out a smile.

This was a subtle way of asking him to leave because I knew the longer he stayed around me, the higher his chances of getting under my skin…or worse.

Slowly, he rose to his feet and approached me, towering over me despite my considerable height.

I swallowed and took a few hesitant steps backward, my eyes lifting to his.

Daniil came close to me, so close, and by this time, my behind had already met the counter, and there was nowhere else to go. He gently pushed my hair behind my ear, and my heart thundered as I smelled his heavenly cologne. With the back of his hand, he ran his fingers over my cheek, and I could feel my insides burning.

I was nervous, and his touch was gradually breaking my defenses, leaving me vulnerable to his charms. My lips trembled when he brushed his thumb over them, still not taking his eyes off me.

Fuck!

I pressed my thighs together instinctively as I felt my pussy stir in response.

What the fuck was that? I've never reacted like that before.

He was teasing me, and I could tell that he loved the reaction my body was expressing. He was enjoying it.

I silently prayed for rescue, hoping someone or something—anything at all—would break the spell holding me captive. I tried to speak up, to set boundaries and reclaim my personal space, but my brain failed me; it completely shut down, leaving me at the mercy of this man's mesmerizing gaze.

He drew closer, and my heart continued to race; it was so fast that he might hear it beating. I attempted to speak again, but my words were stuck in my throat. My voice was trapped, and my fucking lips refused to part.

He smirked, most likely enjoying the show unfolding before his eyes. He must really love the way I was struggling. What a demon!

I couldn't stop my body from quivering when he rubbed the back of his palm over my cheek, his eyes never leaving mine. Once he was done toiling with me, he stepped away.

Oh, thank God!

I let out a subtle sigh, struggling to catch my breath.

"Do you get commissions on sales?" he suddenly asked.

"What?" My brain wasn't fully functional just yet.

"If a customer buys something, do you get a commission?" he asked again.

"I…." I opened and closed my mouth. "Yes, I do."

He nodded. "Alright, I want all the suits."

My brows rose in shock.

Does he know how much these cost?!

"All ten of them?" I repeated.

His reply was sealed in his silence.

Who the hell is this man?