ARIA’S POVThe day of the event, The Horizon Art Gala, arrives, and everything is meticulously prepared. Julien has kept his plans close to the chest, but tonight, he will reveal the surprise he has been keeping from the media and the public; me and my artwork, "The Abyss," an abstract piece that captures the depths of human emotion.As the evening unfolds, I can feel the familiar heat of the spotlight. The chosen gown by both Ethan and Stella is a deep midnight blue, with intricate silver embroidery sparkles under the light. It hugs my figure in all the right places, flowing gracefully to the floor. The off-shoulder neckline adds an elegant touch, and the subtle slit in the skirt gives a hint of daring.The fabric feels luxurious against my skin, a reminder of the significance of the event. The silver heels and delicate jewelry—dangling earrings and a simple bracelet that complement the embroidery.My hair is styled in loose waves, cascading over my shoulders, and my makeup is just r
ARIA’S POVJulien stands frozen, stunned by Elodie's abrupt shift in demeanor. Her earlier façade of sophistication and grace crumbles, revealing a raw, unfiltered version of herself. The art gala, once filled with murmurs of admiration and cultured conversation, falls into a tense silence. Those nearby gasp, their shock palpable in the charged air. Elodie's words hang heavy, a stark contrast to the refined setting.I don't hold back. The frustration that's been simmering within me boils over. The pretense, the sheer audacity of it all, ignites a fire. I address Elodie directly, my voice steady but laced with indignation. I question the point of her presence at this prestigious event, highlighting the absurdity of purchasing art without an ounce of genuine interest or understanding. My words cut through the pretense, exposing her for what she truly is—someone who deems art as worthless yet tries to impress her circle with a veneer of sophistication.“I really don’t know what are you d
ADAM’S POVAmidst the chaos, I push through the crowd, my heart pounding as I see my mother and Aria locked in a volatile clash. The onlookers are entranced, their expressions a mix of amusement and shock, relishing the unexpected drama unfolding at this prestigious art gala. Determination fuels my steps as I close the distance, my mind racing to comprehend how things spiraled out of control so quickly."Enough!"I shout, my voice cutting through the cacophony. Both women freeze, their attention snapping to me. My mother’s eyes widen in surprise, then narrow in a familiar look of defiance. But she knows me well enough to understand that I won't tolerate her whims any longer. Her gaze falters, and she takes a step back, the tension in her posture betraying her reluctance.First, I turn to my mother, my voice laced with frustration and confusion."What's going on here?"I demand, but she remains silent, her lips pressed into a thin line. Her refusal to speak only fuels my irritation. Sh
ARIA’S POVAfter Adam leads his mother away from the event, he turns back to me, his face etched with remorse. He keeps apologizing, his words tumbling over each other, the pain in his eyes eminent and unhidden. I can see the weight of his mother's actions pressing down on him, the burden of her recklessness heavy on his shoulders.Adam tries speaking to me, his voice breaking slightly."Aria, I am so sorry, I never imagined she would do something like this.""It's okay, Adam, I've come to expect things like this from your family."The words are laced with a resigned acceptance, a recognition of the chaos that often swirls around them. Frankly speaking, I am tired of Elodie and Eva or anyone from the past coming at me in public every time, just to either bring me down or try to mess my day up. I don’t want to ruin my evening further by dwelling on this confrontation.Therefore, I step away from Adam, feeling the need to distance myself from the turmoil he brings. I scan the room until
ARIA’S POVI stand with confidence as the drape falls away from my painting, revealing "The Abyss" to the eagerly awaiting crowd. The room erupts in cheers and applause, a wave of admiration washing over me.“Wow!”“This is what I call art!”The whole hall is immersed in claps, and I can hear the excited murmurs around me, voices filled with awe and appreciation. The overwhelming acceptance of my work by the public fills me with a mix of joy and pride.Julien takes over the microphone, his voice carrying through the applause. He speaks warmly of my work, praising it, and reminiscing about my time as his student. His words are kind and filled with pride, and the cameras flash as he extols the brilliance of "The Abyss."The thrill of the moment is almost too much to contain, but I do my best to remain composed. Every flash of the camera, every cheer from the crowd, is a testament to the hard work and dedication I have poured into my art.Julien then hands the microphone back to me, sayi
ARIA’S POVAfter the event, Julien returned to Paris, leaving behind a whirlwind of excitement and new opportunities. Life, in many ways, has resumed its usual pace, but now there is a palpable difference—a newfound fame that accompanies my every step.My painting from the gala, "The Abyss," sold for an astonishing one million dollars, marking a pivotal moment in my career. This first significant earning from my art fills me with immense pride and determination. The recognition and financial reward validate years of hard work and dedication, solidifying my resolve to continue creating.The impact of this success is far-reaching. Every gallery and art critic now recognizes my name, and invitations to exhibit my work pour in from all over the world. My inbox is flooded with offers from collectors, each eager to own a piece of my soul captured on canvas. The financial stability this sale brings allows me to invest more in my craft, exploring new techniques and ideas.Every time, as I ste
ARIA’S POVJust as I thought the drama was subsiding, an unexpected challenge arises from an old employee, Charlotte, at Wilson Paragon. Her behavior has become a persistent thorn in my side. Charlotte, a relic from the company's earlier days, has been consistently rude and obstructive.Her attitude dates back to a time when I was struggling to secure the contract from Nicholas’ Next-Gen Ventures. Back then, Charlotte, along with several of her colleagues, openly disparaged me, sowing seeds of doubt about my abilities.Now, with a critical project underway that hinges on Charlotte's collaboration, her behavior becomes increasingly problematic. I find myself needing her input and support to move forward, but she refuses to cooperate.“Miss Wilson, I can’t help you on this project at the moment. You’ll need to wait for another three weeks.”“We don’t have three weeks, Charlotte. The deadline is in two weeks.”“Try the other departments.”“They are full with projects.”“So, do you mean t
ARIA’S POVA successful delivery by Mario and me to Next-Gen Ventures earns us our first major award. This recognition is unexpected but deeply gratifying, a proof to our hard work and dedication. The award not only solidifies our reputation but also opens new doors for Wilson Paragon, elevating our status in the business world. Nicholas, ever the gracious collaborator, decides to host a success party to celebrate this milestone, underscoring the significance of our achievement and presenting us with the award.“Congratulations, Aria. You and your team did great!”“Thanks, Nicholas. It was only Mario and me.”“What? Two people only?”I nod, smiling while Nicholas is taken aback. I shall not give credit to an entire company for the hard work and efforts put in by Mario and me, should I? Moreover, the only people deserve to attend the party are only my family members, Mario and I.“Alright, then. See you tonight at the party.”***The night of the success party is a dazzling affair, set