He appeared to her like a dark prince emerging from a legendary hellish saga, with his dark hair as black as his open shirt which revealed his powerful bronze chest muscles. Only his white linen trousers broke the dominance of the black, but they did nothing to diminish the aura of intimidation that surrounded him.
She clenched her fingers into the shoulder of one of the male models as she noticed the Greek man's gaze, dripping with insolence, lazily tracing the lines of her body—from the tips of her toes, up the curves encased in the tight red dress, and finally resting on her beautiful head above her bare shoulders.
A fierce desire surged within her to leap towards him and claw at his face, to wipe that infuriating smirk off his mocking lips and replace it with a scream of pain. But no, she knew well that this was neither the time nor the place to act on her thoughts, especially with all these people around—crew members, a few curious tourists snapping photos with their phones, people she didn't even know or understand how they had been allowed to be here. Damn it... this was supposed to be a private photoshoot! Or so they had told her. How strange!
But what truly unsettled her and put all her senses on alert was the presence of all those journalists with their cameras, waiting for any slip-up on her part. That would be like pouring oil on fire, and she did not need a scandal right now—especially at this point in her life when she had finally achieved a measure of stability and relative calm with the press. She had fought hard for this over the past three years, far removed from the nightmare of her dark past, which had once fueled the pages of magazines and online platforms.
She tore her gaze away from him with force, focusing on the camera lens instead, her expression betraying none of the storms raging inside her. *If putting on a show is what interests him so much, then I'll show him what a real performance looks like,* she resolved, adjusting the slit of her dress with delicate fingers, revealing her entire left leg. She extended it forward, placing it on the chest of one of the models who knelt before her, leaning back with his torso, his gaze lifting towards her with longing, while his palms rested on the ground in a position of submission.
Her pose with the other model was no less provocative. This one gripped her arms possessively from behind as she leaned her back against his bare chest, placing all her weight on him. Her thick hair spilled over one of his shoulders as her face tilted up towards him, her eyes dripping with passion. She raised her left hand behind his neck, drawing his head towards her parted lips in a seductive gesture, brushing the side of his mouth.
"Magnificent, My beauty!"
Sebastian cheered in complete satisfaction as he pressed the camera's shutter, capturing as many shots as possible from various angles.
Meanwhile, Alexios merely watched her, the mocking smile never leaving his lips, his gaze burning with hatred as it devoured the details of her feminine form with an interest steeped in disdain.
Excessive crimson makeup, a scandalous red dress clinging to a slender figure, crowned by thick red hair whose fiery strands reflected the evening sunlight, making her even more alluring and tempting in the eyes of the men around, whose gazes dripped with primal hunger.
She was the very embodiment of the image he had envisioned even before he first met her. Her brazen posturing between those two men, without a trace of shame, stirred within him a growing sense of hatred and contempt. In truth, she embodied everything he despised. Wild was an understatement—she was a woman who knew no boundaries, adhered to no moral code, driven by her desires without restraint. Her body was her weapon, her trump card to obtain whatever she wanted in life, whether high or low. But! Unfortunately for her, he was not like the other men obsessed with the goods she displayed, because he knew all too well her true nature hidden behind that false mask of innocence, concealing the dark and ugly side of her.
*What new game is this?*
He mused mockingly, his eyes blazing with hatred as they keenly observed the provocative scene unfolding on the other side.
Eline was attempting to climb onto the railing with the help of the models, whose faces were etched with clear worry, as were the expressions of everyone else around her—except for Sebastian, of course, who seemed thrilled as he encouraged her enthusiastically:
"This is amazing! Try to stand up straight."
"Eline, this is dangerous! Get down now!"
Those were Raoul's words, his face showing signs of terror, his eyes bulging as he continued to plead with her in a panicked tone:
"Please, stop! You could fall!"
"Don't worry, I'll be fine," she replied with a false confidence that didn't reflect the terror churning within her. What she was doing now was a form of suicide, and the fear Raoul felt was completely justified. He knew all too well about her (phobia of heights), a crippling fear that had haunted her since childhood. She was fully aware that what she was doing was madness—yes, she had gone completely insane. But there was no turning back now; she had to see this through. To hell with the voice of reason screaming in her head to stop. All that mattered was showing that vile man what she was made of. His presence here, at this exact moment, was a direct challenge to her, and she was certain that his being here was no mere coincidence but a deliberate act on his part. She despised such behavior, especially from someone as arrogant as him. So she wouldn't hesitate to do anything, no matter how difficult, just to break his pride and savor the taste of victory, proving to both him and herself that she didn't fear him.
The wind wasn't helping her keep her balance, but despite that, she fought against her fear, trying with all her might to steady herself on the narrow railing, which was only a few centimeters wide. She knew her task would be even more challenging with her high heels, so she quickly decided to remove them, which brought her some relief and made it easier to complete her mission.
"Come on, darling, now lean your body back—oh yes, just like that, fantastic!"
Those were Sebastian's instructions, his excitement growing as he continued taking photos.
She leaned her torso back, lying with her back against the length of the railing, while one model supported her head, and the other knelt at her feet, lightly touching the ends of her toes in a pose that suggested an unattainable love.
In truth, her body's position wasn't comfortable at all, but she held it for several minutes so that the photographer could capture as many shots as possible. Then, in another moment of madness, driven by the boiling anger in her chest from that man's gaze fixed on her, she tried to stand upright on her bare feet on the metal railing with the help of the first model. But just as she was preparing to pose for more shots, a wave struck the side of the boat, causing it to shake slightly, which made her dizzy and threw her off balance. Her foot slipped, and her body tumbled backward, suddenly plunging into the cold water. All she could hear at that moment was a loud scream and then her name echoing through the air before everything faded into silence, leaving her alone to face the depths of the salty water that pulled her down as she thrashed desperately, trying to keep her head above the surface. But all her efforts failed. Despite being a strong swimmer, her main problem was her tight dress. It was like being shackled inside it; the fabric, soaked with water, became heavier and heavier, wrapping around her legs like a cocoon, restricting her movement, while the tight waistline only made matters worse by cutting off her air supply.
With every attempt to catch her breath, the salty water seeped into her throat.
'Oh God, is this the end?' she pleaded in desperate helplessness. It was becoming increasingly difficult to keep her eyes open as she sank into darkness, literally fighting for her life as the current dragged her further away from the yacht.
But then, like a dream, she felt strong arms wrapping around her waist like a lifeline, pulling her up to the surface.
She flailed her arms wildly, struggling to catch her breath, but the firm grip holding her forced her to calm down. Like a frightened child seeking safety, she wrapped her arms around her rescuer's neck, clinging with all her remaining strength, pressing her face against the side of his cheek. Her body was shaking uncontrollably, her legs feeling as weak as jelly. Yet, an odd sense of reassurance enveloped her senses, numbed by the shock, as she was held by this person.
*Who could this be?*
She wondered, struggling to open her heavy eyelids to no avail. She was too weak to manage it. But eventually, she concluded that it didn't really matter who he was—what mattered was that she was safe.
Minutes later, she felt herself being lifted like a feather out of the water before being gently placed on a warm, solid surface, with a caring hand supporting her head. She weakly moved her lips, trying to form the words "thank you," but it was in vain as if her tongue knew the humiliation it would endure if it complied with her desire to speak. This was soon confirmed to her without delay.
"Are you alright, Cinderella?"
That mocking voice with its distinctive accent hit her ears like a thunderbolt, making her body tense up before freezing in shock as her eyes widened in disbelief at the breathtaking face of the last person in the world she would want as her savior.
(Alexios!!)