Valentino Twins: Stuck in Between

Chapter 1

“Good afternoon, Miss Irene. Is it true that you and Lester have an intimate relationship?” The inquisitive reporter directed his attention towards the woman, his voice laced with curiosity.

Irene, a woman of grace and poise, let out a gentle sigh that seemed to carry with it a hint of both weariness and contentment. Her lips curled into a soft, sweet smile as she directed her gaze towards the reporter, her eyes sparkling with a subtle warmth.

How frequently should they ask her regarding that gentleman?

As she eloquently responded to the reporter’s questions, her eyes radiated a brilliance that surpassed even that of her fellow models. The sight of Irene Rose Ogalino’s eyes brings joy to all who behold them, save for those plagued by their own insecurities.

The woman, a renowned supermodel, has captivated audiences not only in Asia but also across the continents of Europe and America. She has gained immense fame for the products she endorses, as they possess the unique ability to captivate consumers and inspire immediate patronage or purchase.

The young woman, aged twenty-one, possessed a grounded nature that was evident in her demeanor, save for the presence of those who harbored ill will towards her.

“No, Lester and I don’t have a thing.” With a hint of honesty in her voice, she replied, “He is merely my co-worker.”

The reporters nodded in tacit agreement, their belief in her response evident in their attentive expressions. Who could possibly

resist the captivating allure of her voice, resonating with an undeniable blend of sincerity and tenderness?

For nearly half a decade, she has dedicated herself to honing her craft in this esteemed profession. She understands how to interact with others, smile, and persuade them to believe what she says. She started for this company when she was sixteen and is still at the top at the age of twenty-one.

Irene was acutely aware that her presence in this place was not solely due to the captivating allure of her eyes. She recognizes her potential and refuses to allow her detractors to control her life.

“Miss Irene, what do you think about Lester spreading the word that you two are lovers?” Asked by one of the reporters. Once more, Irene let out a deep sigh, the weight of her emotions palpable in the air.

Her kindness surpasses the scope of this particular question. She harbors a steadfast aversion to entangling herself with any gentleman. How many times will she respond to this question in interviews?

Countless times has she endured the torment of being teased about this particular matter. Her mind wandered, lost in a labyrinth of thoughts.

Once more, her lips curled upward, revealing a radiant smile. There is a certain enchantment in the curve of their lips, a sweet smile that possesses the power to dissolve the hearts of all who are fortunate enough to witness its radiance.

She’s an angel that is too good to be true. With each gentle upturn of her lips, a captivating phenomenon unfolds: her two enigmatic eyes, in perfect harmony, mirror the radiance of her smile.

“I’ll say it again: I’m not in a relationship with Lester, and I have no intention of dating any of the men I’ve met.” With a deliberate cadence, she placed emphasis on every single word, ensuring that those before her could fully grasp the weight and significance of each syllable.

In the midst of the dazzling limelight, Irene’s two co-models find themselves gradually fading into the shadows, their radiance dimmed by their incessant stream of inquiries directed towards her. Exhaustion weighed heavily upon her, her weary body yearning for the solace of her own home, where she could surrender herself to the embrace of slumber.

In addition, she embarked on a transformative journey to Italy, immersing herself in the vibrant world of fashion as she pursued the establishment of a clothing line in this enchanting country.

Irene, with her impeccable taste and keen eye for style, graced numerous Fashion Shows with her presence. Her presence alone was enough to elevate the event to new heights, as her influence in the fashion industry was undeniable. Not only did she attend these shows, but she also lent her coveted endorsement, further solidifying her status as a fashion icon.

The designers and brands were fortunate enough to have Irene’s approval. Her absence from certain countries can be attributed to her numerous commitments that demand her attention. Exhaustion gripped her like a vice, her weariness palpable in every fiber of her being. And so, the time had come for her to face a barrage of inconsequential inquiries.

Despite the lingering effects of jetlag, Irene valiantly faced a barrage of inquiries from the eager reporters who had eagerly anticipated her arrival. This unexpected press conference had been orchestrated due to the dissemination of erroneous details by none other than Lester Aguas, a purveyor of misinformation to an unsuspecting audience.

‘How many times do I have to tell Lester that I’m not interested in him before he understands?’ She uttered it softly in the recesses of her own mind.

Lester Aguas, a renowned thespian of great acclaim, possesses a unique ability to establish connections with individuals from all walks of life. Irene now finds herself ensnared in his clutches.

However, it is Irene who becomes the primary target of his teasing, a fact that may be attributed to his own personal insecurities or perhaps even a genuine fondness for her.

Regardless of the underlying reasons, Irene remains unfazed by his antics, as her unwavering focus is firmly fixed on her professional endeavors.

Her priorities were clear, and a man was not among them. She yearns for a life devoid of men’s presence. It was due to her deliberate avoidance of the opposite s*x that she found herself erroneously labeled as a homosexual. The mere thought of a man entering her life was the furthest thing from her mind.

She does not desire the presence of any males by her side. Irene finds contentment in her current accomplishments as she persists in her labor and endeavors.

The reporters, their pens poised and gazes fixed, nodded in tacit acknowledgment as they absorbed his response. Yet, among their ranks, a few harbored a penchant for acerbic inquiry, their tongues untamed and relentless, ceaselessly prodding her until they extracted the desired answer.

“Is it true that you are the daughter of a prostitute?” Inquisitively, a reporter of homosexual orientation posed a question to him.

She possesses a keen awareness that this tenacious reporter has been diligently tracking her every move for an extended period of time. His curiosity piqued, he wondered if she harbored any hidden secrets concealed within the depths of her metaphorical closet.

She had, but she was too cautious not to open it. Within the depths of her being lies a concealed truth, a secret burden that weighs heavily upon her heart. Its presence is a source of profound anguish, causing her to recoil at the mere thought of unearthing it further.

The pain it inflicts on her is so acute that she finds herself unable to bear the prospect of delving deeper into its depths. Irene cast her gaze upon her manager, beseeching him for assistance.

This individual alone possesses a deep understanding of the events that transpired in her past, leading up to the person she has become in the present day.

Mame Lenie, her guardian, is a gay man. For half a decade, this familial unit has been her steadfast companion, attuned to her every nuance and need.

With a graceful stride, Mame Lenie made her way to the front of the room, her presence commanding the attention of all those in attendance. As he reached the microphone, he delicately took hold of it, his fingers wrapping around the sleek metal with a sense of purpose. And then, with a voice that carried both strength and conviction, she began to speak.

“Enough, guys, Irene is tired; she still has jet lag. Save your questions for next time,” he told reporters. Irene gracefully rose from her seat, bidding her co-models a polite farewell.

As she made her way through the bustling crowd, her loyal bodyguards swiftly closed in on either side of her, their vigilant presence a testament to their unwavering dedication. Trailing closely behind, Mame Lenie, a trusted friend and brother, gracefully followed suit, her presence adding an air of grace and poise to the entourage.

As they emerged from the bustling airport, a swarm of persistent reporters trailed closely behind, their insistent voices clamoring for her attention.

Irene gracefully adorned her face with a pair of sunglasses, a necessary shield against the relentless assault of flashing cameras. The blinding bursts of light momentarily obscured her vision, threatening to disrupt her composure.

Under the watchful gaze of her vigilant bodyguards, Mame Lenie stood like a steadfast shield, ensuring her safety until the moment she gracefully slipped into the safe haven of her sleek automobile.

Her gaze shifted from her watch to Mame Lenie, a flicker of anticipation in her eyes. Her manager sat beside her while two bodyguards drove in front.

“I’m so tired, Mame Lenie, because they’re making a big deal out of my life and the thing I despise the most. They were gradually starting to grate on my nerves, their actions and words becoming increasingly bothersome.” Irene’s voice dripped with anger as she spoke. A heavy sigh escaped from the lips of Mame Lenie.

“He’s making his own drama so that he can be talked about more, and you’re his chosen victim now, and that reporter is digging into your life secrets,” Mame Lenie, with a hint of disdain in her voice, quietly expressed her strong aversion towards the gay man.

Irene refrained from offering any commentary, instead opting to rest the back of her head against the chair. She finds herself worn out not only by the ceaseless facade of a smile she must maintain for the camera, but also by the collective pretense of well-being that permeates her surroundings.

Irene is aware of the admiration she receives from many people, but she also understands that at least one person is genuinely interested in learning about her life. She finds herself unable and unwilling to return to the depths of her past. Among the myriad facets of her existence, there is one that she fervently avoids revisiting: her past.

Though she possessed the education, fame, and wealth she so ardently sought, her achievements were inevitably scrutinized through the lens of her past.

The weight of the past bore down upon her, weakening her resolve with each recollection. Irene’s heart raced as her manager gently tapped her shoulder in a futile attempt to soothe her frayed nerves. Alas, her agitation persisted, refusing to be quelled.

Her gaze fixated on the world beyond the car’s window, her eyes tracing the contours of the passing landscape. Her eyes welled up with tears, glistening like tiny crystal droplets, as she cast her gaze beyond the windowpane.

Yearning for liberation from the shackles of her past, she finds herself ensnared in the labyrinth of uncertainty, unsure of the path to emancipation. In the solitude of her own company, a profound certainty washes over her: they are returning.

“Here,” Mame Lenie softly uttered, extending her hand to offer the delicate sleeper a small pill. Her gaze fixed upon the medicine, her eyes tracing every detail of the small, unassuming bottle.

Irene was acutely aware of the perilous consequences that awaited her if she were to succumb to an excessive dosage of the medicine. Yet, despite this knowledge, an irresistible compulsion compelled her to partake in its consumption each time she sought solace in slumber.

With a swift and determined motion, she grasped the object and brought it to her lips. Without hesitation, she consumed it, allowing it to descend into the depths of her being.

Mame Lenie graciously presented her with a bottle of refreshing mineral water. With a sense of urgency, she hastened back to her designated spot, yearning to find solace in the embrace of sleep.

In the world of her dreams, she finds no respite from the relentless pursuit of her inner demons. The specters of her own inner demons continue to relentlessly pursue her even in the depths of sleep. She yearns for it; she insists upon it.