Under the dazzling lights of the Senrui King Corporation's headquarters, the grand runway became the centerpiece of attention. Two impeccably handsome men, each with striking features and elegant poise, effortlessly drew the gaze of every model present, both male and female.
"Lisa, doesn't the man standing next to the president look familiar? I feel like I've seen him in a magazine before," one model whispered to her friend.
"You say that about every handsome man you see," Lisa teased, rolling her eyes.
"She's not joking, though. That man won last year's Asian Styling Championship with his assistant under the name 'Purple Snail,'" another model chimed in. "I think the president invited him to work with us for a reason."
"That's not all," the third model added in awe. "He's Blaine Jackson, the son of the president of the French Blue Horizon Styling Headquarters. He's got money, power, status, and fame. And guess what? I heard he's still single."
"Single?!" The collective gasp of surprise echoed through the diverse group.
Blaine, standing not too far away, could sense the curious and admiring glances thrown his way. Already uncomfortable with the attention, his mood soured further.
"Mr. Jackson," Yuto Miyazawa, the president of Senrui King Corporation, approached him with a clipboard. "Here are the detailed profiles of all the models under my company. Take a look and let me know if we can finalize the fashion show for the end of next month. Would that timeline work for you?"
"No need for such detailed profiles," Blaine replied flatly. "I'm not conducting a background check. Just provide me with full-body photos of each model—unedited, natural shots—as well as the fashion pieces you plan to showcase."
"Of course," Yuto nodded. "I'll have my team prepare everything immediately." He signaled to his assistant, issuing instructions before turning back to Blaine. "If you're free this afternoon, why don't we have lunch together? It would be my pleasure to treat you."
"Lunch?" Blaine's mind wandered unexpectedly to Chloe Grace, curled up lazily in bed like a sweet kitten. Had she woken up yet? Had she eaten breakfast? Was she still feeling unwell? Stop it! She's not a child, and you're not her nanny. Why so many unnecessary questions?
"Mr. Jackson?" Yuto called, pulling him back to the present.
"Oh, apologies," Blaine said, shaking off his thoughts. "I already have plans for lunch. Perhaps another time."
Yuto's disappointment was palpable, but he quickly rebounded. "In that case, would you join us tonight for a celebratory ball hosted by Senrui King? Our models will be showcasing the latest fashion pieces. It would be a great opportunity for you to make an initial assessment."
Blaine hesitated, sensing that declining was not an option. After a brief pause, he nodded. "Alright."
"Wonderful," Yuto's face lit up. "And please feel free to bring Ms. Grace along."
Blaine froze momentarily at the mention of Chloe. His gaze sharpened as he studied Yuto's smiling face. Feigning casual indifference, he asked, "So that's your real objective? Inviting her?"
For reasons he couldn't explain, a surge of irritation flared in his chest. Yuto's impression plummeted even further in his eyes.
"You misunderstand, Mr. Jackson," Yuto clarified, still smiling. "Attending a ball usually requires a partner. Since I heard you already have one, I assumed you'd bring her. Besides, Ms. Grace is truly charming." Yuto's tone softened as he spoke. "Especially her eyes—bright and captivating like cat's-eye gemstones. And her lips, soft and rosy…"
A scoundrel! Watching Yuto smile so contentedly made Blaine's irritation boil over. Of course, it was Blaine himself who had casually mentioned Chloe as a "friend's younger sister." Given Chloe's petite, delicate features and endearing personality, it wasn't surprising that someone would be drawn to her. Still…why did it bother him so much?
"Fine," Blaine said abruptly, the word escaping before he could think it through. Regret immediately followed as he saw Yuto's expression brighten even more. Blaine inwardly cursed himself—why hadn't he just bitten his tongue? But a promise was a promise, and there was no backing out now.
---
After finishing breakfast, Chloe noticed Blaine hadn't returned yet. Curious, she decided to head downstairs to see if he was working on-site.
"Annie, there's a client insisting the director handles her full makeover personally. What should we do?" a designer asked, intercepting Blaine's assistant.
"Is the client male or female?" Annie asked, raising an eyebrow.
The designer chuckled knowingly. "Female. Since the director started at this branch, the number of female clients has skyrocketed, most of them requesting him by name. His reputation isn't just about his extraordinary styling skills—it's his looks. With features so sharp and refined, he's practically a work of art. And let's not forget his charmingly rebellious aura."
Annie sighed but couldn't argue with the observation. "Explain that the director is out at the moment. If she insists, have her wait in the lounge. I'll call him and check his schedule."
"Got it." The designer nodded and walked off.
Annie quickly dialed Blaine's number, relaying the situation. "When can we expect you back?"
"I'm already on my way. I'll be there in about fifteen minutes," Blaine replied curtly.
Annie hung up and turned toward the client lounge but stopped when she spotted Chloe descending the staircase, peering curiously around the different departments.
"Ms. Grace, are you looking for the director?" Annie called out.
Startled, Chloe turned toward her with wide eyes. "Oh, Annie! Is he here?"
"Not yet," Annie said with a polite smile. "He's on his way back and should arrive in about fifteen minutes."
"Perfect," Chloe said with a grin. "He probably hasn't eaten yet. I'll go upstairs and prepare lunch." She turned and headed back up, a faint smile lingering on her lips.