Her Corporate Takedown: Entangled with a Billionaire

*CHAPTER 121: BECOMING ENTRENCHED*

"Are you actually going to be a model?" I asked during dinner while trying not to laugh at the image of Andrei strutting down the runway.

However, he ended up having the last laugh, as usual. I felt the most out of place being glamoured up from head to toe and sitting amongst renowned designers and critics from across the country at one of the biggest charity fashion shows of the year. Meanwhile, I looked up at the long stretch of runway and at all of the male and female models that walked fearlessly in the spotlight.

Among them, there was one particular model that garnered more attention than the rest. The audience gasped every time they saw the dazzling figure of their favorite honey-blonde-haired model. Their agitation and moans of admiration were reproducible every time he walked the runway. By the halftime break, that man had stolen the whole show. I could tell he was smirking on the inside each time he walked past my seat as I stared up at the con artist in amazement. He could only be a con artist, because this man, who had just assumed the role for a night, was the best fashion model walking this runway compared to all the other professional models. I only had one thought during the entire first half of the show. How could he claim that pole-dancing in front of me was more embarrassing than walking the runway in front of all of these people?

I sat by myself during the first half, as Shirley was backstage directing her fashion show. During the break, she took me backstage to witness the chaotic scene that accompanied every successful fashion show. I passed a myriad of highly stressed designers and dressmakers tweaking their virgin outfits to perfection for their big reveal to the world.

Only one famous designer had a large corner of the area backstage as she was the one who lined up a heavyweight list of sponsors for this charity event. I instantly felt the piercing glances of envious eyes when I stepped into the boundaries of that sacred space. However, the reason was not because I was in the presence of a famous fashion designer, because the prickly feeling I was all too familiar with became even sharper when I started talking to Andrei, or Viril, as everyone else called this half-Russian hottie right now.

I watched the second half of the show from backstage. It was probably safer here now that I had the attention of the fawning hyenas. I wore a one-time avant-garde disguise with blue-green wavy hair; somehow that wig ended up in Andrei's car before I left the apartment. Hoping I wasn't really alone, I looked around but I couldn't find Kiran anywhere, not that I was capable of finding him when he didn't want to be found. As the show went on, I realized that I shouldn't have stayed backstage. I realized it a little too late after Shirley asked me to help with Andrei's fittings as he changed outfits.

The next time he returned from the walkway, I witnessed the true colors of the unsightly battlefield that had been occurring since the beginning of the show. Without any regard for the designer's outfit, the girls clawed away at each others' hands as they fought for the privilege of helping Andrei change out of his clothes. And it didn't end there. The fight entered the second round when it was time to fit and change into a new outfit. Their scrawny little fingers pressed against and lingered over his skin far longer than it took to take a measurement or ensure the correct size of the clothes. I felt several episodes of twinging in my chest as I stared at the looks of satisfaction on some faces or expressions of greed on other faces as they removed their hands.

I didn't realize how tightly I squeezed my hand until I felt something uncomfortable in my palm. The piece of memory foam that tied the hangers together became disfigured in my hand while I watched the baffling scene of the catfight that occurred on other people's real estate. I wondered if that was how Andrei felt when he looked at me on the beach. No, I was far more unsettled by how much I had grown to feel possessive of him. He had begun to preoccupy my mind and heart to levels I could not control and nothing scared me more.

What I disliked the most about that entire scene was the way he showed no concern for the fact that I was there watching. It was at times like this that I disliked the way he was too professional about his job. Even if it was a normal part of the job, he was okay with their hands all over him like that. Plus, he didn't look at me even once. I didn't want to stay backstage if it meant watching this for the rest of the night.

I excused myself and left in a hurry to go to the restroom to snap out of whatever had taken control of me. After Andrei had finished changing into the next outfit, he looked at the table behind him, then walked over and searched the table for something. He found the crushed piece of memory foam tie that Leiya had dropped on the table as she rushed out of his changing area. He lifted his hand holding the crumpled item towards his lips that he couldn't control as they formed a clever smile.

"You would have loved to see her expression," Shirley said to him.

"If I had known, I would have gotten it on video."

"That scene was so perfect, I thought you had paid those girls off."

"I didn't, and that's why I'm more upset I missed it."

When I returned from the restroom, I told Shirley that I would watch the rest of the show in the audience, but she demanded that I remain backstage because she was short-handed. I didn't want to stay backstage if it meant watching a scene like that again, but I couldn't refuse Shirley. Reluctantly, I helped with Andrei's fitting for the remaining outfits as I worked amongst the other 'professionals' and watched his performance on the runway from backstage.

No matter how much I was captivated by the light that glistened on his fair skin, the twitching of his taut muscles or how many times he routinely pressed his lips together before taking the spotlight, I didn't let any of my rattled emotions show externally. The stoicness I portrayed for the rest of the night was probably my best acting performance to date. It had to have been, since all the squealing hyenas eventually disregarded me as a threat given the repulsive disinterest I appeared to show in the man whom they could barely look in the eyes without fainting.

The night finally ended with Andrei accomplishing what he set out to do. By the end of the show, Shirley had received more offers than the other designers for all of the clothes worn by her exclusive model. Based on the offers, the sales were estimated to be greater than seven million dollars. After deducting the necessary expenses, including the model's fee, which he claimed was already discounted, at least half of the estimated revenue could be donated to charity.

The night ended peacefully, at least for me. While I disappeared into the background, a mob formed at the exit as they swarmed Viril and Shirley for autographs and interviews. Countless slender hands pushed their way through the crowd to swipe their fingers over a tiny surface area of the man of their dreams. I couldn't even laugh at the pitiful sight I witnessed. Or was I just being arrogant? The person they would go home and dream about was actually within my grasp. His existence was rooted in my life. Rather, without asking or waiting until I felt ready, he implanted his existence in my life. Now, there was nothing I could do to eradicate it.

Andrei stopped right before Shirley's limousine that awaited at the end of the red carpet. Right before entering the car, he signaled to one of the bodyguards lining the crowd, who pulled me out of the crowd and delivered me to Andrei, who then slid me in the car, all in one smooth action. I had simply followed them to the end of the line. Once they were in the car, I had planned to drive back on my own, but I wasn't upset at the chance to drive in a limousine. I ignored all the envious screams as we drove off and enjoyed my first relaxing forty-minute ride of pure luxury.

Back at the mansion, Andrei sat on one of the plush seats beside me under the glass ceiling covering the balcony on the fourth floor. He had in his hands two cups of the chef's variation of hot chocolate mocha and one was offered to me.

"Hello, Viril," I said to him after he sipped on the delicious drink.

"I think you're a bit too late in calling me by that name," he replied while checking his hair that had been washed clean of all the toxic hair dye.

"I'm sorry. That was a case of mistaken identity, since I was the only one who seemed to have never heard of the famous Russian model before." How he made a one-time disguise into a famous Russian model was beyond me.

"Oh, did I not mention it?"

"Not at all. Along with the list of other things you conveniently never tell me."

"My sincerest apologies," he replied with a smile. "But you should admit you like the mystery."

I'll never admit it.

He must have thought I was being jovial given my sarcastic tone, but I wasn't even in the mood. The only thing on my mind was suppressing the aberrant feelings I caught wind of tonight before they spiraled out of control. I couldn't afford to have any fleeting desires derailing my plans at this point.

"Well?"

"Well, Viril is, as you probably guessed, my Russian half. It was the persona I assumed whenever I traveled to Russia to see my mother's family. I learnt modeling from my mother, so Viril eventually became a model who had a contract with my mother's agency."

"Your mother was a model! And she owns an agency!"

That explained why she was able to change outfits in a split second back then. In addition to the air of elegance that came with being from a wealthy family, the combination of her modeling aesthetics and her superior sense of style produced a woman with great confidence in herself.

"Although the reason her agency is a big deal is because she is known for taking children off the streets and nurturing them into top models. That sort of became her passion project to the point where most of her models were once homeless children."

"What your mother did for those kids was amazing."

"It sure was."

I was touched by the story about his mother, but that wasn't going to erase her hostility towards me. That was the more important problem, but it wasn't like I had any talent as a model that I could use to impress her. Thus, the search continued for the solution to that problem.

"I'm surprised you told Shirley about your Russian identity."

"Shirley was special. Plus, I had to negotiate something in return for my imposition. I offered to be her almost exclusive model in America for ten years. There's still three years left on that deal."

"Her almost exclusive model? Sounds like you played with your words."

"It depended on the client. I promised I wouldn't take jobs from her direct competition, but I couldn't refuse all of my jobs, especially from my mother."

"That makes sense." Moreover, I couldn't believe he was actually a professional model instead of a con artist tonight. He forced me to take back my words for once.

"Can you take it back every other time you thought I was a con artist too? It may not be a lifelong career, but I'm a professional in every instance. You could say it's more tiring to learn things you only need to use for one moment."

He pinched my cheeks after a prolonged hesitation to agree with him. He had a point, but I didn't want to undermine the work of true professionals.

"By the way, can we finally talk about what happened at the meeting last week?"

"Sure." He left my cheeks alone when I said I would keep thinking about his statement.

"Maria told me that someone had been warning one of the board members about Michelle's wrongdoings for the last two years. Was that you?"

"It was."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want them to suspect you or think that you were related to the mysterious person."

"They still suspected me."

"And you cleared their suspicions with a natural clueless reaction."

"Well, it's not like they trust me again. I couldn't get her to tell me what they plan to do next."

"Don't worry. That part of your mission is finished and I already know what their plan is. The reason that guy hesitated to act on my emails is because I didn't only divulge secrets. I also mentioned that I was planning to buy out the company. It didn't sound serious back then, so he didn't get frightened, but my last few emails more seriously threatened to buy out the company now that they were facing imminent bankruptcy."

"So, you plan to get Kenneth to help you then."

"No, he isn't going to want to work with me. But he is desperately going to want to work with someone else who he can trust before I execute my plans."

"Let me guess, Sera."

"Mhm."

"Wow, that is some grade A deception."

"Nah, just a classic good cop, bad cop situation."

"You and Gillian sure have the same taste."

He looked at me with an expression of disgust after being hit with what he felt was an insult.

"I didn't mean it like that." His expression made me want to salvage some of his feelings.

I didn't think that we were going to spend the night here, but I was happy to sleep over. Apparently, the goal was to take measurements for the new dress early in the morning when I was at my driest weight. I couldn't believe how many bags of clothes Shirley allowed me to leave with from my private SLJ shopping fest, but what was more unbelievable, were the options of dresses that she presented to me to wear to the wedding of the person who shan't be named.

Shirley asked me to choose a few dresses that I would consider wearing to the wedding. After taking my measurements, she would tweak the dresses for the best fit. I stumbled around the racks with great difficulty in choosing just a handful out of all the incredible pieces I walked past. In the end, I asked Andrei to pick ten dresses first, from which I would choose only five.

That plan worked well, except for my misjudgement regarding his brazen sense of taste in luxury clothes. However, that was the point of trying to steal the show, wasn't it? I chose five of the dresses and watched Andrei solemnly put back the most outrageous designs he tried to get me to keep.

I peacefully got my measurements taken, then Shirley made another crazy request when she asked me to take Andrei's measurements. I didn't realize she was also making a suit for Andrei for the wedding. I put into practice the art of maintaining a hardened disposition that I perfected at the fashion show while my fingers gently caressed small portions of his body surface area along the flimsy string of tape measure.

When we were finished, I tried on one of the dresses to also have it pinned for reference. The knee-length dress was rose-gold with delicate white accents that had a natural flare even when it wasn't fitted. Andrei kept laughing at how much I kept posing and checking myself in front of the mirror.

After some time of admiring the fabulous dress in front of the mirror, I heard a phone vibrating in my bag. It was Melissa's phone, so I quickly looked to see if it was an important message about the business. Andrei came over after I fell silent while staring at the phone. While it was indeed a simple message about the business, I didn't know how to process it or if I even wanted to process it in the first place.

He took the phone from me as I slowly walked back to the mirror, trying to forget what I had seen. Two seconds later, he burst into laughter at the joke of an email that was clearly so funny that I forgot to laugh. I looked at him, confused that I misread the email that he took for a joke. After rereading it half a dozen times, I was convinced that he was crazy instead because there was nothing funny about the job request I just got from Gwen.

The ludicrous job request that almost caused me to smash the phone asked me to assist with none other than Michelle and Daniel's wedding planning that was supposed to incorporate an astronomical display of Soaress' exclusive high-tech 3D visual exhibition.

"Very well," Andrei said, grinning as he returned the phone, "Let's give them a show they'll never forget."