[8]

“Welcome to the club.”

I'm not used to such an over-the-top welcome. Too much spotlight, too many expectations being directed at me. I haven't even agreed to anything Maximilian has offered. Please understand, anything. I'm reluctant to even just reread the contract.

I don't want to be in a world that will show my face in public. My quiet life will be gone, replaced by the hustle and bustle of public attention. No more peaceful afternoons with a cup of tea. No more freedom to just shop in the supermarket without being haunted by camera flashes.

Being Roderick's wife alone is exhausting enough dealing with the media. Especially if I become part of this world, where my life will continue to be scrutinized and judged.

No.

I can't even imagine it. What Maximilian said was not a trivial matter. Who doesn't know the models and public figures under the auspices of Trinity Fashion? They are not only famous, but also have a big influence in the entertainment and fashion industries.

Including the woman who now greets me with enthusiasm. Her balayage brown hair has become an iconic trend this year. Her face reflects tenderness and friendliness. Her eyes shine with a strong feminism charm, making her the center of attention wherever she is.

Giselle Namizuka.

“Why are you just standing there?” she asked with a warm smile that felt so easy for her to give. ‘No need to be shy. Come in,’ without waiting for my consent, she pulled my hand slightly, inviting me to step deeper inside.

Since an hour ago, when I received a call from Maximilian, I had been trying to prepare myself. But still, being here felt like a big step that I wasn't sure I wanted to take.

I realized Giselle was not alone. There were two other women waiting in the room. They looked relaxed, but still exuded an aura that was hard to ignore.

It had been a long time, said Maximilian, since he had found someone suitable enough to join the three of them. I knew their reputation, the main models of Trinity Fashion who were said to be very selective in choosing work. People called them arrogant, only eyeing projects with exorbitant fees, only wanting to attend events that promised big profits and wide connections. They were also known as women who were fussy in all aspects.

In fact, if I think about it, most of that assumption may be true. But there is one party most responsible for their reputation. Someone who has molded them into the figures the world now knows them as.

Maximilian Von Ziegler.

That man educated them with harsh discipline. He instilled the idea that they were valuable, proportional to the amount that clients had to spend to work with them. Nothing was not profitable every time they appeared in the headlines.

No. They don't like news that can ruin a career. They compete to achieve big names and achievements without bringing each other down. There is no competition between them, only togetherness that strengthens each other. Their identities are strong, incomparable or interchangeable.

Maximilian makes sure they have something that is not easily achieved by others. Because according to him, they have extraordinary potential.

I could only smile slightly, a little awkwardly. “What... is it okay for me to come here?”

Giselle smiled again. ‘Why should it be a problem?”

“Um... who knows, maybe you're working?”

His laugh sounded crisp. ’Our work was finished two weeks ago. Maximilian gave us a long vacation.”

“We?”

Giselle nodded enthusiastically. “Well, here we are.”

As we turned right, I was stunned. In addition to the beautiful city view, with the striking icon of the gold-plated pen-shaped building, two other women were already standing waiting for me to arrive.

They smiled kindly.

“Hi,” they greeted almost simultaneously.

I could feel my chest pounding. I knew I was standing among people who were so powerful and influential in a world I wanted to avoid. But behind it all, there was a strange feeling creeping into my heart.

Was this the beginning of something I couldn't avoid?

Ursula Lacome and Harley Princessa were sitting there. Just like Giselle's welcome, their smiles were for me—Evangeline Rutherford. Somehow I had to return this welcome, which I thought was so warm, even though I knew very well that the warmth was only the outer layer of something deeper. I knew almost nothing about them, having only heard snippets of information on the way to Giselle's apartment.

And now, I was just abandoned by Maximilian Von Ziegler, including Irena. They just passed me by with an excuse that seemed far-fetched.

“My schedule is full, Eva. You will have fun with the three of them. Relax, nothing bad will come your way.”

I took a deep breath. How could he possibly talk like that? He casually decided without caring about my objections.

“I haven't agreed yet,” I said, holding back the annoyance that almost burst out.

But Max just chuckled. ”After meeting them, I'm sure you'll agree, Eva. Don't be too skeptical.”

I shook my head slowly, staring out the window of the fast-moving car. “Drop me off at the bus stop. Our business is finished, isn't it?” I tried to negotiate, even though I knew Max never really listened to anyone but himself.

“Brina will pick you up in the lobby and take you to Giselle's unit. Relax for a moment. I'll pick you up at four in the afternoon.”

I was lost for words. There was no point in arguing with Max.

Now, in front of those three almost perfect women, I could only remain silent. An uncomfortable feeling ran through my body. There was something intimidating about their gaze, even though they were smiling.

“Why don't our new friends want to introduce themselves?” asked Ursula, her eyes narrowing sharply as if scrutinizing my intentions. The smile on her lips was not entirely sincere, and I got the impression that she was not used to being friendly.

I swallowed, trying to calm down. “Bu-but that's not it.” I sighed and looked at them nervously. “I still can't digest what just happened in my life.”

Harley giggled, Giselle smiled even wider, while Ursula clapped.

“You have to get used to it,” said Ursula, waving her hand slowly before taking a sip of her cold drink.

I could only stare at them wordlessly. There were so many things I wanted to say, but it all felt pointless. I was in an environment that wasn't mine, with people who looked at me in a way I couldn't understand.

“I can only say welcome,” Harley said suddenly. He got up from his casual seat, reached out to me with a friendly smile that seemed more sincere than the others. ”You ... seem to know me, don't you?”

I hesitated for a moment, but finally accepted his outstretched hand. I still have the courtesy as a guest.

“Harley Princessa. Who doesn't know you?” I tried to put on a small smile, even though my heart was still filled with confusion.

I really wanted to mention my own name. However, that name now felt foreign to me. I wasn't used to the name Eva, but from the start when I introduced myself to Max, the name just came up.

The name is part of me now, isn't it?

“I am ... Eva.”

***

Marguerite Langley put down her green tea cup slowly. Although the liquid entered her throat with a feeling of comfort, what was in front of her really made her suppress her emotions.

How could she have to sit with this girl?

The girl had a sweet smile, but Marguerite felt that somehow the smile had a purpose of its own.

“How are you, Aunt?” she asked kindly.

“Fine.”

“Thank goodness. I'm glad to hear it.”

Marguerite didn't need to feel intimidated, but she did not like the girl's visit today. “I can't entertain you any longer. I have a lot to do.”

Isadora Kensington smiled, letting the owner of the house begin to leave. Before Marguerite had completely left, she said, ”Did you welcome Evangeline like this before?”

Marguerite stopped in her tracks.

“Um... I don't think so. Evangeline is always welcomed here. No matter where she comes from.” Isadora rested her chin on her hand. Her eyes looked at Marguerite a little dismissively, then smiled broadly. ”I will try to make you accept my existence here. Rick is a bit of a traditionalist. You have to give your blessing to marriage, Aunt.”

He bowed slightly. “Forgive my rudeness just now.” However, a sly grin was etched on the corner of his lips. Marguerite let it pass without responding to his apology.

Evangeline Rutherford stood in the doorway of the room, her fingers clenched on the side of her dress. Her heart felt like it was being pierced by a thousand daggers, sharp and painful. Even though she had prepared herself, the meeting still made her feel suffocated.

She didn't need to hear the entire conversation to understand what was going on. Isadora's words just now had been enough to slap her hard. As if her presence all this time had been a mistake that shouldn't have happened.

Then what about her feelings? What about all the sacrifices she had made?

Her eyes blurred, tears almost fell, but she held back. No, she wouldn't cry. Not here.

Instantly, her steps felt heavy as she stepped back, away from the place. Her heart was filled with turmoil that was difficult to quell, but she had to be strong. She had to stand tall.

Because Evangeline Rutherford wouldn't give up just like that.