Pride is not bowing my head before the masses, but standing tall, even if they claim I am broken.
"Elin, dear, hurry up."
"I'm coming, you old man."
Elin cheerfully called out as she climbed the gangway, waving her hand high and smiling brightly before finally setting foot on the yacht's deck. She tossed her small leather bag onto the polished wooden floor, leaving it for one of the staff to carry. A light breeze lifted the hem of her long white summer dress, revealing a glimpse of her legs wrapped in the brown straps of her comfortable sandals. Without hesitation, she stretched her bare arms towards her manager, Raoul, whose face was etched with tension, but that didn't stop her from embracing him warmly. She had missed him dearly, not having seen him since his last visit to the countryside.
She bent her head to tenderly kiss his plump cheek, infusing it with all her love for him.
"I've missed you so much," she said with deep affection, tightening her grip around his neck.
"Easy there, you rascal... you're choking me," he sighed with uncharacteristic impatience.
She laughed heartily as she released him, stepping back a little, her playful gaze never leaving his annoyed expression. It might have been considered impolite on her part, but she couldn't help it—his angry face always amused her. The flushed cheeks and ears, the sharp glare, the signature scowl that creased his forehead, and especially the peculiar way he pursed his lips. To her, he looked like a cuddly teddy bear. His genuine, unpretentious nature and his cheerful spirit made her feel at ease, free to be her true self around him.
"Stop staring at me, you little devil, and hurry up. I'm not in the mood to listen to that crazy Frenchman's nonsense because of you again," Raoul grumbled through gritted teeth.
She couldn't resist the urge to tease him, despite knowing he was in a foul mood. Raising her eyebrows in mock surprise, she replied with a playful tone, "Really? Do you mean he's gone mad? Then let's run away."
She raised her fingers to her lips, trying to stifle a laugh as she saw the expression of pure frustration on Raoul's face as if all the world's demons were dancing before him.
"Miss Graham!" Raoul snapped, his tone exasperated. The use of her last name instead of her first, Helen, made her realize the true extent of his anger. Knowing that silence was the best option when he was this upset, she didn't utter another word. Raoul grabbed her wrist and hurriedly led her up the stairs to the upper deck of the yacht, where the photo shoot for British Vogue was set to take place this month. The shoot should have been wrapping up by now, but her late arrival at New York Airport this morning, due to the agency's driver missing the scheduled pickup, forced her to wait three hours for another flight. This resulted in her reaching her destination, Mexico City International Airport, four and a half hours later. There, she had to catch another domestic flight, which took another two and a half hours to finally reach her final destination: the breathtakingly beautiful Cancun, one of the world's most famous resorts. The exhausting journey was worth it for her, as the stunning natural beauty of the place, with its golden sands and blue waters stretching as far as the eye could see, had captivated her heart the moment she laid eyes on it.
As soon as she and Raoul stepped onto the upper deck, she heard the French photographer, Sébastien, complaining in his broken English mixed with French phrases, "Oh, come on! Le temps presse—the time is ticking."
In truth, he was right. There were less than two hours left before sunset, so she quickly headed to the makeup area. As the yacht began to drift away from the dock, crossing the open sea, three skilled makeup artists worked on her face and hair, while a lady attended to her nails. The whole process took only half an hour, after which two assistants helped her change out of her comfortable dress and into a tight, suffocating one, swapping her sandals for high heels.
She looked stunning as she finally stood in front of the cameras. The fiery red of her tight, long dress perfectly complemented her exaggerated makeup, crimson lips, and painted nails. Her thick, fiery red hair, styled in soft waves, framed her face, neck, and shoulders, highlighting her dewy complexion and giving her the wild, alluring look that was exactly what they wanted from her.
She stood behind the yacht's railing, her back to the sea, her arms entwined with the two male models, their bare chests and long legs exposed, covered only by black linen trousers that stopped mid-thigh.
"Passion... Look at them with passion. Be wild and seductive, my beauty."
These were the photographer's instructions, urging her to pose provocatively between the two models. She tried her best, despite feeling completely uncomfortable in her tight dress, which seemed to squeeze her waist tighter with every movement, making it hard to breathe. Nevertheless, she followed the photographer's directions meticulously, hoping that this ordeal would soon be over.
"Magnifique, wonderful! Lift your beautiful head a bit higher!" the photographer exclaimed with delight.
She placed her hands on the chest of one model, while her head turned halfway toward the other model behind her, who was holding her bare arms. She bit her lips seductively and lifted her head even higher. The two men then leaned in, their lips brushing against her cheeks in what resembled a kiss. Soft music drifted in from somewhere, gently tickling her senses, and making her feel relaxed. She closed her eyes for a moment as the photographer instructed, to make the pose more enticing, before opening them again as he ordered.
(My God! But... what is that scoundrel doing here?)
She couldn't believe her eyes as they widened in shock, falling upon the tall, imposing figure standing directly in front of her. His towering body leaned casually on the strong railings of a luxurious, massive yacht across from her, and it seemed the music she heard earlier was coming from there.
A strange tightness gripped her heart, and an inexplicable shiver ran through her veins, freezing her blood in shock. This couldn't be real!
(Damn you!) she whispered inwardly, gritting her pearly teeth in anger as she realized that Alexius, standing before her now, was as real as everyone else around her...