The Meeting

As she exited the set, the evening air of Los Angeles, USA, felt cooler, so she tightened her coat over herself.

Claire was stunning, with long, glossy dark hair framing a face of sculpted beauty. Her deep green eyes were mesmerizing, her full lips expressive. Her flawless skin and elegantly curvy figure spelt confidence and grace. Every movement was fluid, every glance captivating.

The streets were quieter than usual, with only a few people and the occasional car passing by. Claire's thoughts returned to the director's statements, trying to wrap her head around them. Just as she turned a corner, a sleek black Rolls Royce came up beside her, its shiny surface shining in the streetlights.

Right on cue.

The back window rolled down smoothly, revealing the same hefty man she had seen earlier on set. His shiny sunglasses reflected the light, hiding his eyes but not his intentions.

"Miss Claire," he said in a deep, calm voice. "Would you mind getting in? We have something for you."

Claire's heart raced, but the man's tone was courteous, not threatening. She glanced around, noting the emptied street, then back at the man.

Her instincts told her to be cautious, but something about his demeanor suggested he wasn't there to harm her—at least not right away. The words of the director came back to her.

“Just stay calm and have a chat with them, you’ll be fine.”

After hesitating for a moment, she replied in a calm tone, “Alright.”

With a soft thud, the door of the car closed behind her as she slid inside its luxurious interior.

The soft leather chairs and subtle lighting created an air of understated elegance. Claire scanned over, fully aware of the silence that filled the room, interrupted only by the occasional hum of the engine.

She tried to get a peek of the passing scenery, but most of it was blocked by the tinted windows. Returning her focus to the heavy-set man, she saw him fumbling with something in his pocket.

He produced a tiny ring that was completely unique and different from anything she had ever seen. The band was thick, crafted from a pitch-black metal, it held a deep red stone in its center, and was embellished with eerie, mysterious symbols.

With deliberate motion, he slipped the ring unto his finger, causing the rare gemstone to momentarily sparkle in the dim light. Claire was intrigued, but she kept her questions to herself. Except one.

"Where are we going?" She asked, her voice breaking the tense silence.

The man swiveled to face her, his dark shades obscuring his expression.

"Relax," was his response, his tone devoid of emotion, and also an unspoken indication to discontinue further questioning.

Claire's heart hammered faster, and each twist and bend on the road exacerbated her nervousness.

They eventually approached a tall, wrought-iron gate, which gently opened as the car neared, seemingly on its own. The Rolls Royce continued up a long, cobblestone road lined with beautiful gardens and intimidating statuary. At the end of the driveway stood a huge mansion, its windows dark except for one light in an upstairs room.

The vehicle came to a stop in front of the grand entryway, and the driver got out to open the door for Claire.

"Please," Big John - as Claire had come to nickname the hefty man - said, gesturing for her to exit. "Follow me." With a little unsteadiness in her legs from the tension, Claire stepped outside.

The man guided her up the stone steps to the mansion's enormous oak doors. The aroma of polished marble and old wood filled Claire's senses as soon as they walked in.

The large hall featured tall ceilings and a chandelier with a complex pattern suspended above it. It was dimly lit, so she couldn’t quite make out all the interior features. One thing she could tell though, there was wealth in the air.

Her mind racing, Claire followed Big John down a lengthy hallway, her footsteps echoing. At last, the hallway's end brought them to a pair of doors.

Big John knocked twice before shoving the doors open to reveal a large, darkly lighted study. A huge mahogany desk was situated in the middle of the space, between two tall windows covered in thick curtains, and lined with bookcases containing volumes bound in leather.

Behind the desk stood a figure that immediately commanded authority and attention. With his dark hair neatly pulled back and his jawline defined, he was tall and incredibly attractive.

She felt a shiver run down her spine as soon as she walked in because of the instantaneous connection his piercing blue eyes made with hers. His perfectly fitted suit highlighted his broad shoulders and muscular, slender frame. She guessed he couldn’t be over the age of thirty five.

“Well, unless he’s a freaking vampire,” Claire thought to herself.

"Miss Claire," he said, his voice slick and powerful, but yet warm. "A pleasure to finally meet you."

“My goodness,” Claire whispered inaudibly at the sight of him. She prayed he hadn’t heard her.