Ciara Mendes
Martha Haynes was not only a stunning woman but also radiated an extraordinary warmth that captivated everyone around her. As Micah and I stepped into their magnificent mansion, I was struck by the exquisite decor that surrounded us—a reflection of Martha's impeccable taste. Having interviewed numerous celebrities in their homes, I had come to expect nothing less than exceptional elegance, and this was certainly no exception. "My husband should be here any minute. Unfortunately, my eldest son is out of town, but Richard is waiting for us in the living room, and Gio is getting ready," she explained as we made our way toward the living room, where the interview for the magazine article would take place. "That's perfectly fine, Mrs. Haynes. We'll just set everything up while we wait," I informed her. "Thank you, dear! I really appreciate that," she said with a warm smile. "I love your eyes. Do both of your parents have the same eye color?" she inquired, admiring my gray eyes. I smiled at the lady as we entered the living room. "Thank you, Mrs. Haynes, but I actually inherited my eye color from my mother," I replied, recalling the conversation we had last night. "That reminds me of Mat. Are you two, by any chance, related?" she asked Micah, who was busy carrying the equipment inside to set up his camera. He stopped what he was doing to give his attention to Mrs. Haynes. "She's my sister, but not by blood," he replied. Mrs. Haynes smiled at both of us before walking over to the glass table in the center of the room, surrounded by black leather couches. "Who is Mat?" I asked Micah as we followed behind. He always knew more about the celebrities and their families than I did. "I don't know, but I'm hoping he's someone I can set you up with." "I wish you would stop playing cupid," I replied, rolling my eyes playfully. "Ms. Mendes, Mr. Richmond," Mrs. Haynes called, drawing my attention to her side where an older version of the boy from the television stood, an unmistakable smirk on his face. "This is my youngest son, Richard," she continued, and I couldn’t shake the feeling of unease as his piercing gaze locked onto mine, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. "Please, Mother, I'm almost fourteen," Richard said, rolling his eyes dramatically as he sauntered toward me, his confidence palpable. The way he approached made me slightly wary, and I couldn't help but wonder what kind of trouble he might be brewing. "You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen," he said, taking my hand and pressing a kiss to it while gazing up at me with his dark, unsettling eyes. I was taken aback, struggling to muster a smile as a wave of discomfort washed over me. His charm left me feeling more disturbed than flattered. "Thanks," I said curtly, yanking my hand away from his grasp and walking past him, a mix of relief and irritation flooding over me. The encounter left a sour taste in my mouth, and all I wanted was to put distance between us, shaking off the uncomfortable attention of someone so clearly lacking the maturity to understand boundaries. "Maybe I don't have to play cupid after all," Micah teased, a playful smirk on his face as I brushed past him. I shot him a glare, my irritation evident, before redirecting my focus to Mrs. Haynes, seeking her comfort and the familiarity of a safer conversation to escape the awkwardness of the moment. "Will your husband and other son be here soon so we can start?" I asked Mrs. Haynes, eager to shift the conversation away from Micah's teasing remarks. Her presence offered a sense of stability, and I hoped the gathering would commence soon, providing a welcome distraction from the stray thoughts and emotions that had been unsettling me. Before Mrs. Haynes had a chance to respond, a man walked in, adjusting his Rolex with an air of confidence. "I don't know where father is, but I'm right here," he announced, drawing our attention. His charismatic presence momentarily shifted the mood in the room, and I couldn't help but wonder about the dynamics that would unfold with him joining our gathering. He wore a dark blue suit that accentuated his stature, while his hair had a casual, tousled charm that suggested he hadn’t fussed over it too much. Still engrossed in adjusting his Rolex, he barely noticed his mother reach for his wrist, gently fixing the watch for him. "Thank you, Mom," he said, his smile warm and appreciative. Mrs. Haynes rushed over to me, taking my hand and pulling me toward the man whose warm brown eyes were fixed on me as she did so. "Gio, this is Ciara Mendes, a journalist from Flare Magazine. Ms. Mendes, this is my second eldest, Giovanni Haynes." Giovanni removed one hand from his pant pocket and extended it toward me for a handshake. Mrs. Haynes stood nearby, observing with a proud smile as I grasped his hand and shook it firmly. "It's lovely to meet you, Ms. Mendes," he said, still holding onto my hand. I gently pulled my hand away. "Likewise, Mr. Haynes," I replied. He smirked, slipping his hand back into his pocket. "Please, Mr. Haynes is my old man; call me Gio," he said, his demeanor shifting to a more relaxed tone. Before I could respond and insist on calling him Mr. Haynes, Richard interrupted, his glare directed at his brother. "Would you stop flirting with her?" he snapped. Gio, however, merely brushed off the remark and strolled over to an older version of himself. The older Mr. Haynes exuded an air of coldness as he looked us over, his impatience palpable. "Let's just get this over with," he said curtly, while his wife stepped forward to introduce Micah and me, the warmth of her smile contrasting sharply with her husband's demeanor. "Would you like to start with the pictures first?" Micah asked, breaking the silence. They quickly agreed, although Mr. Haynes couldn’t help but grumble about having to make the effort to be there, insisting he was only interested in the photos before going back to his more pressing matters. As Micah busied himself preparing the photographs, my phone buzzed insistently. Mrs. Haynes, sensing my need for privacy, kindly suggested I step out onto the balcony. I nodded in appreciation and excused myself, grateful for the momentary escape. Giovanni Haynes It was her—the same woman I had seen last night. While I hadn’t clearly seen her face, her hair was unmistakably the same. She possessed the most captivating gray eyes and a stunning figure. I bit my bottom lip as I watched her curvy silhouette sway while she walked toward our balcony. My mind wandered to fantasies of her moaning against a wall as I took control, or envisioning her on a pool table, but my reverie was abruptly interrupted by the photographer. "Sir, why don't you stand next to your mother for the photos?" he suggested, breaking my thoughts as he gestured for me to move closer to her. He snapped a flurry of pictures until my father, growing weary, asked if that wasn't enough. While he grumbled about having work to do, the real reason was his inability to tolerate being in the same room as me for more than half an hour. Father and I have always had a strained relationship; he envisioned me taking over his company, but I pursued my own path in LA and launched a successful manufacturing business, which only fueled his disapproval. Instead of pride, he called me a disgrace, not just for my career choices but also for my decision to remain unmarried, as he believed it reflected poorly on him. “Sir, why not call Ciara to get started?” the photographer suggested, his mischievous smile hinting at something more playful behind his words. If she wasn't my target, I might have fired back at him for trying to boss me around, questioning who he thought he was. However, his suggestion oddly intrigued me; it signaled that he might actually support my pursuit, which meant he probably wouldn’t interfere when I set my sights on making her fall for me. "Call me Gio,” I said, giving him a friendly pat on the back before heading out. “It still hurts, Evei,” I heard her sob into the phone. She was confiding in this person, Evei, while I lingered behind the large plant that Mother had placed on either side of the balcony entrance. I knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but I needed to understand what I was getting myself into. "I know," she giggled, even though tears still streamed down her face. "You hated him. I should have listened to you. You can spot a man who isn't worthy of love from a mile away." She stayed quiet for a moment before speaking again. “It’s fine. I’m actually glad I found out before the wedding; if I hadn’t, it would have been so much worse, and I would have had to endure the entire divorce process.” She was going to get married? What happened that caused the wedding to be postponed? I wondered to myself. "I can't wait to see you... I love you too, Evei. Bye for now." I decided not to approach her. I told Mat that she seemed to have a lot of problems and wouldn't be an easy target. There's no way I'm giving him ten percent of my company. He doesn't need to know that I met her again. I entered the living room, contemplating a night out at a strip club before my flight back to LA tomorrow. The idea of unwinding and letting loose felt tempting, especially with the buzzing energy of the city still fresh in my mind. "Did you tell her?" the photographer asked as I entered. I stared at the man in front of me, weighing my words before shaking my head. "I didn't see her." "She seems like a challenge," Mateo's voice echoed in my head as I watched her step into the room. Her confident stride and enigmatic presence immediately captivated me, igniting a mix of curiosity and intrigue that made me question what layers lay beneath her composed exterior. "Let's get started," she said with a smiling face, but the brightness of her lips couldn't mask the traces of tears that lingered on her cheeks. The tip of her small nose was slightly red, and her eyes shimmered with remnants of sorrow, revealing a vulnerability that contrasted sharply with her cheerful demeanor, suggesting she was fighting to reclaim her composure in that moment. She was crying on the inside, yet she still managed to maintain a smile on the outside, a mask of resilience that betrayed the turmoil brewing beneath. It was a delicate balancing act, her smile mingling with the shadows of her emotions, revealing a depth of strength that only made her more intriguing.Ciara Mendes The sound of heels clicking against the tiles drew my attention away from the iMac I was working on to the elegant beauty swaying into my small office. She walked with an air of confidence that was utterly justified; after all, anyone adorned in Louboutin heels, a designer peach dress that hugged their figure, and radiating an undeniable glow would undoubtedly exude such assurance."Evei—" I started to say, but before I could finish, she interrupted with an enthusiastic, "Surprise!"This was truly unexpected; just two days ago, she had mentioned she had a packed agenda but assured me she would be there for me once it was complete. I hadn't anticipated seeing her until the end of this week, or at least the beginning of the next.Getting up, I embraced her tightly in a hug, feeling a rush of warmth and relief. “I wasn't expecting you to be here so soon,” I confessed, pulling back slightly to look into her eyes, which sparkled with excitement."I know, but I had
Ciara Mendes For many years, I have attended charity events, largely thanks to my father, an Orthopaedic Oncologist and the proud founder of Johnathan Grant Public Hospital, named in honor of his great-grandfather. He has worked in numerous hospitals around the world, where he met my mother, who was pursuing a degree in fine arts at a college in Canada, her birthplace and upbringing. She was involved in a minor accident, attributed to her clumsiness, and upon arriving at the hospital, she encountered my father, who was working there that day. They fell in love and enjoyed a happy relationship until my mother made the choice to cheat, which she was caught in the act on a day when my dad and I returned home from the movies. That was a sight I will never forget, and it forever altered my perception of my mother. We weren't supposed to be home for another hour, but I had eaten something I was allergic to, which forced us to return home for my medicine. Ultimately, this unexpected deto
Ciara Mendes Every word that Evei and Navia spoke last night was spot on. My relationship with Fisher wasn’t meant to last; now that everything has crumbled like the Titanic, I can remember all the times when I should have reflected more deeply on our issues. If I had, I might have seen this coming.Fisher didn’t want kids, and nothing I said could change his mind. After we got married, he wanted me to move to Chicago with him, despite the fact that I was born and raised here. I truly enjoy living in Los Angeles.I always felt pressure to be perfect around him, and I vividly remember a few months ago when I dyed my hair a lighter shade. He was so upset that I had to change it back to its natural raven color immediately.The signs had always been there, but I had chosen to ignore them.After Micah dropped us off at my apartment, he stayed in the living room editing his pictures while Navia and Evei joined me in my room, offering their opinions and support that truly lifted my sp
Ciara Mendes I scrutinized the man with the low-cut brunette hair sitting across from me, his five o'clock shadow accentuating his jawline. His white shirt was wrinkled, and his blue eyes appeared bloodshot. It was clear that he wasn't taking this well, but who could blame him? He had been married and in love for six years."She refuses to sign the divorce papers unless she gets full custody of Zen. It's ridiculous; after everything she's done, she actually thinks she deserves full custody of my child! This entire process will now take at least twelve months or more. If she had only agreed to my terms, I could have been finished with her in just three months.""Calm down, Alaric." I pushed his latte toward him, and he took a sip before running his palms over his face.After my lunch with Dad earlier, I reflected on our conversation. He made several valid points, and I realized I needed to consider some of his suggestions. This prompted me to call Alaric as soon as I returne
Ciara Mendes "A strip club, Eve? Are you serious right now?" The woman shrugged her shoulders in response.I should have anticipated something like this the moment the persistent model insisted—more like compelled me—to wear this utterly ridiculous choice of clothing. Clearly, this was what she had up her shimmery silver sleeves.Sure, it might not have been a bad idea if there were male strippers shaking their goods while I threw my hard-earned money at them, but instead, there were only women dancing around in tiny scraps of fabric—and a few who had chosen to wear nothing at all."You didn't want to meet a guy, so I figured, why not meet a girl instead? There are plenty here who would love to help you get over your troubles," she said, pouring Navia a glass of brandy. We were in a secluded VIP room surrounded by soundproof glass, allowing us to see everything happening below while remaining unnoticed. It felt like a private box, with small sections on each sid
Ciara Mendes Today, Evei is heading to Paris, unfortunately, work commitments summoned her to walk the runway at the Ritz Paris Hotel as a Victoria's Angel. Meanwhile, Navia departed on Saturday night to continue her final year at Brown University, where she is pursuing a degree in Marine Biology.Eve and I had met all of Micah's girlfriends, and out of everyone he dated, Navia was our favorite. Eve suggested that the next time Navia visits, we should plan a girls' trip to the Bahamas."Are you sure you'll be alright?" Evei asks, squeezing ketchup onto Zendra's fries.The blue-eyed four-year-old arrived early Saturday morning, and so far, she's been nothing but an angel. Thanks to Eve, her waist-length hair was neatly styled into two playful ponytails. We were having lunch at Sweet Tooth Diner, where almost everything served had a touch of sweetness—from their naturally made sauces and tender chicken to the delectable pastries and even the vibrant vegetable salads. T
Ciara Mendes "I need you to cover something compelling that people will want to read about. The last great story you did was on Richard Haynes."I have been sitting in my boss's office for about five minutes, listening to her critique my work. This is the first time I've faced criticism like this; during my last year of high school, I wrote an article on Thomas McHenry, a chemistry teacher who was sexually harassing girls at the school.I had suspected he was shady after that one time in class when he touched my butt and then profusely apologized when I turned around to stare at him in shock. He claimed he was reaching for something and accidentally made an inappropriate touch. At the time, I was naïve, and since it was just that one incident, I let it slide.After that incident, I started keeping a close watch on him, realizing the only way to expose his behavior was through the school newspaper. I shared my story with the editor-in-chief, but it was criticized for
Ciara Mendes "Ciara, although I've never met this guy, I genuinely think you should go out with him." I picked up my phone from the tiled floor beside the bathtub, where Zendra sat playing with the large doll that Giovanni Haynes had given her.He had shown up on Wednesday with a jar of Sugar Daddies, just like the one I kept on my desk, as a gesture of apology for eating the last one. Zen and I were on our way back from lunch when we encountered him on the first floor. As soon as he saw us, he stood there with his mouth slightly agape, but the surprised expression vanished when Zen, pointing at him, asked, "Aunty, who is the pweety man staring at us?" He smiled warmly at her in response. On Thursday, he showed up again, and I considered calling security, but he asked if he could gift Zendra a doll nearly as tall as she was, leaving me unable to say no. All she had to do was look at me with those large blue eyes, and I felt as though she had delivered an eloquent speech to