I advance, holding onto your gaze,
Amidst eyes full of nightmares,
An elegant, wealthy women,
And the indifferent, smoking idly,
And the dead, chattering nonsense,
And the blinding, flashy lights,
To reach you, trembling, triumphant over them,
There, at the other end of hell, where you await me.
Chapter Two:
After her mother introduced them, Helen avoided further interaction with the man, staying as far away from him as possible. Yet, despite all her efforts to ignore his presence, she couldn't shake off the mysterious and intimidating aura that seemed to emanate from this stranger named Alexios. It cast a shadow over her, filling her with unease. Her intuition only heightened her anxiety, urging her to flee from this place, but that was something she couldn't do, even if she wanted to. Her esteemed mother insisted on keeping her close, which only deepened her confusion, as she wasn't accustomed to this level of attention from her. This added to her suspicion, leaving her mind with unanswered questions about her mother's motives.
From another angle, Helen gathered information about the stranger through her mother's conversations with some of her friends. She learned that he was Greek, which explained his unusual accent, and that he was a prominent politician in his country. He came from a distinguished family and was a successful businessman with vast enterprises stretching across Europe and beyond. In short, he was an incredibly wealthy billionaire, which somewhat explained her mother's interest in him. After all, her mother was always driven by material gain. However, it seemed that most of the guests at the party also showed interest in this man, not just her mother. But none mattered to Helen—she didn't care about him or any of them. She had no desire to learn more about him or to get close to him, even if he were the richest man in the world. This mindset completely contradicted the general perception of her as materialistic, largely because the international press had always linked her romantically with prominent businessmen, wealthy individuals, and famous celebrities, with countless photos and videos circulating on digital platforms confirming those rumors.
Feeling exhausted, Helen took a deep breath as she wondered when she would finally get the chance to leave this dreadful place. Despite the fears and anxieties gnawing at her, she couldn't help but steal a glance at the Greek man. He stood across the room with her father and some of his business friends, engaged in conversation. She observed him anxiously. He looked elegant in his tailored black Armani suit, highlighting his broad shoulders. Beneath it, he wore a classic white shirt, with a black tie wrapped around the collar. His thick, jet-black hair was neatly styled, and his serious features were truly striking. He exuded an air of arrogant handsomeness, but what unsettled her the most were his gray eyes, which seemed to be magnetic, rendering her senses numb—this terrified her.
The psychological pressure was mounting, her physical exhaustion worsening, and her overwhelming desire to retreat to her hotel room was intensifying. All she wanted now was to lie down on her bed and rest her weary body. But against her will, she fought this urge with all her might, not wanting to defy her mother's wishes, as that would unleash hell upon her, a situation she was keen to avoid. So, she endured, hoping that everything would be over soon.
"Excuse me, ladies,"
Her mother excused herself from her friends.
'Thank goodness..'
Helen thought, breathing a sigh of relief. Finally, her mother would leave her side, and she could breathe easier. But just as she began to feel relieved, she heard her mother's firm voice commanding:
"Accompany me."
Helen didn't need to think about where they were headed this time; her mother's chosen path made it very clear. When they finally stopped, her mother spoke to the man standing before her in a smooth voice that bore no resemblance to her usual tone:
"I trust you're comfortable with us, Mr. Vissalis."
"Quite so, Countess,"
Alexios replied as he calmly turned his body, his mouth curling into a shadow of a mysterious smile. His enigmatic gaze lingered on Helen's face for a split second before lazily drifting over her figure, causing a strange mix of anger, tension, and confusion to stir within her.
'What on earth is happening now?'
Helen chastised herself in disbelief. Her body seemed to have lost all control, as if this man, Alexios, standing before her, was now in charge through his mere gaze. How could she feel so flustered? How, when she had forcibly killed this feeling within herself years ago due to the nature of her work? Damn it, she had believed herself immune to the gaze of men. Since becoming a model, she had always maintained control in her dealings with them, and never before had she felt what she was feeling now in the presence of this man. There was something different about him, something inexplicable that she didn't want to understand. Even his gaze toward her was entirely different from what she was used to seeing. It was filled with something that sent chills down her spine, making every fiber of her being scream at her, ((Run.))
"Ladies and gentlemen, dinner is served. Please, join us."
The voice of the servants snapped her out of her thoughts, making her realize that she had been standing there like a fool while everyone else was leaving the room.
Helen managed to regain some of her composure as she moved toward her father, smiling at his kind face and avoiding the gaze of the man standing before her. They all proceeded to the luxurious dining hall, where several tables, meticulously arranged to suit the countess's tastes and the guests accustomed to the finest services, were spread across the vast space. Her father took a seat at one of the medium-sized tables in the room, with her mother sitting on his right side, while the other guests dispersed to the remaining tables. As for Helen, her sole aim was to put as much distance as possible between herself, her mother, and her mother's special guest. She didn't even bother to find out where the latter was seated.
Her eyes searched for a seat, and she felt a wave of happiness when she found an empty one next to one of her father's close friends, Mr. Carl Malcaster, who seemed just as pleased to see her, greeting her with a warm hug that filled her heart with warmth. After exchanging greetings and kisses on the cheeks with his wife, the man whispered mischievously:
"You've become even more beautiful, my dear."
She replied cheerfully as she adjusted her seating:
"That's very kind of you, Uncle."
"Uncle?!"
He exclaimed in mock offense, adding proudly:
"I'm still too young to be your uncle. Isn't that obvious? Look at my head—do you see even a single gray hair?" He confidently thrust his dyed head forward after removing his cowboy hat, completely unconcerned about the company around the table, which made Helen laugh at the amusing situation.
"You're right, dear. You're still in the prime of your youth,"
Interjected his wife, who was sitting close by, a wide smile on her round, full face. A few strands of her short black hair, matching the dark dress she wore with a high collar, framed her face, contrasting sharply with her pale white skin and her uniquely colored eyes, the same shade as the Caribbean Sea.
In truth, ever since her early childhood, Mrs. Alice Malcaster had always embodied motherhood and warmth in Helen's imagination, which now lit up with a radiant smile as she continued conversing with the couple naturally. This kind lady and her cheerful husband, with his distinctive South American accent, always had a way of bringing a smile to her face and making her feel at ease, no matter the circumstances of their meetings. Mr. Carl was the type of man who paid no attention to formalities and didn't adhere to the etiquette rules typical of high society. This was undoubtedly because he was a self-made man who had built his wealth from the ground up, not just a pampered heir born with a silver spoon in his mouth. From a simple worker with big ambitions, he had transformed into the largest oil investor in the country, with the output of his fields exported to most countries around the world. This had made him one of the richest men in the United States, and if it weren't for this last detail, her appearance-obsessed mother would never have allowed him to be a part of their lives.
Helen, content, was completely unaware of the pair of gray eyes watching her intently as if trying not to miss a single detail.
'So, she can smile.'
Alexios thought, amused as he observed the happiness on Helen's face, a stark contrast to the icy, emotionless expression she had worn when they were introduced earlier. He had been told she was wonderful, and he had seen this for himself in various pictures of her on fashion sites and digital search networks. However, he admitted that he was surprised to find her much more stunning in person, especially given her physical attributes that added to her allure and charm. It wasn't surprising that the press had dubbed her a "walking bombshell." A redhead with fiery hair that ignites the senses, an angelic face with delicate features—from her tempting lips to her small nose, and finally her wide eyes the color of pure honey, crowned by thick lashes that could steal anyone's heart... She was truly a walking enchantment, and he couldn't blame anyone who fell under her spell. Oh, no, he wouldn't blame them at all.
With this particular thought, his gaze darkened as his neck's pulsing vein nearly burst from the heat of the blood boiling in his veins.
'No mercy for the likes of her.'
He vowed to himself, renewing his oath to make her kneel at his feet, completely broken. But first, he would make sure to wipe that wretched smile off her face forever. His eyes gleamed with pleasure as he saw her stiffen when she finally realized he was sitting directly across from her, signaling the beginning of the hunt.
Helen could never have imagined that eating would become such an unbearable ordeal, but here she was, experiencing that feeling today under Alexios's gaze. Since she had noticed he was sitting directly opposite her at the table, her throat seemed to turn to stone, refusing to swallow anything. Despite this, she stubbornly refused to show the turmoil Growing within her under his scrutinizing eyes, forcing herself to eat.
She was aware that his gaze never left her, which made her blood boil and angered her for being unable to stop him.
'Damn it, what does this man want?!'
She cursed inwardly in frustration. Wasn't the stress caused by her proximity to her mother enough, without adding the nerve-wracking tension this Greek man's presence caused her? She despised this feeling with all her heart. Even more, she hated the sense of weakness and helplessness his intense gaze instilled in her. She had endured and lived through many situations that had made her stronger over time... She had taught herself to be immune to any emotions that could lead her off the clearly defined paths she had drawn for her life. But this man, with his overwhelming presence, provoking arrogance, and the aura he exuded, was disrupting her usual emotional balance, something she neither wanted nor needed now or at any time. Therefore, she had to leave this cursed mansion as quickly as possible, to hell with whatever wrath her mother would unleash on her for doing so. She would accept any punishment her mother threw at her, no matter how harsh, rather than endure the crushing pressure she felt under this man's gaze.
With all her might, Helen clenched the silk napkin on her lap, fully determined to carry out her decision.