The Rivera Clothing Headquarters felt like a different world—one where the air was thicker with ambition, and every inch of the space echoed with the hum of expectations. Wendy had always been accustomed to a simpler pace, growing up in Antique, where time seemed to move slower, and people worked quietly in their corners of the world. But here in the heart of Manila, the city pulsed with energy and everything moved at a frantic pace.
Her role in the company, though humble as a project assistant, felt like a fast track to something much bigger. And yet, with every passing hour, Wendy found herself questioning whether she truly belonged. She had never been a spotlight kind of person. The noise, the lights, the glamour—this world felt like a giant stage, and she was the unassuming extra in the background.
Wendy's thoughts were interrupted by the familiar sound of heels clicking on the polished floor. Ricci Dawnielle had entered the room.
She was everything Wendy was not—graceful, confident, with an aura that demanded attention. Ricci was Miss Pasay Universe, after all. She carried herself with a poise that seemed effortless, like a queen entering her domain. Wendy couldn't help but feel the weight of comparison when she saw her—every inch of Ricci screamed beauty, perfection, and power.
"Wendy!" A voice pulled her back to reality. It was Claire, the head stylist, ushering her towards a side room filled with garments for the upcoming fashion show.
"Come, help me with these fabrics," Claire instructed, her voice brisk but kind.
Wendy nodded, walking past Ricci with a fleeting glance. But Ricci's eyes caught hers for just a moment—a look that lingered too long for something so brief, and it sent a shiver down Wendy's spine.
The afternoon passed quickly, and Wendy's mind kept drifting back to Ricci, to the idea of this stunning woman walking the runway, taking the spotlight that Wendy could only dream of. It was only a matter of time before she would see Ricci in action, strutting down the runway in one of Rivera's most coveted designs, her every step a statement of grace.
But as the day progressed, there was another name that began to surface—one that struck a chord with Wendy, though not in the same way as Ricci. Pradesh Luxur, the Filipino designer based in Dubai, had flown in for the collaboration between his line and Rivera Clothing. He was a legend in the fashion world, with a reputation for his cutting-edge designs that had made waves not just in Dubai but internationally. But his presence wasn't just about his designs—it was his reputation that intrigued Wendy.
Pradesh was known for his ambition, for his hunger to push the boundaries of fashion. And it wasn't just Rivera that had caught his eye. Wendy overheard snippets of conversation that hinted at his true intentions. He wasn't simply here to collaborate—he was sizing up Rivera for his own future plans. His goal? To build his own clothing empire.
Wendy stood in the backroom, hands trembling slightly as she prepared the garments. It wasn't just the task that made her nervous—it was the realization that she was in the midst of something far greater than she had anticipated.
"Ma'am Wendy?" a voice broke her thoughts. It was one of the assistants, leading her to the lounge where Mr. Luxur awaited.
Wendy took a deep breath before stepping into the lounge, where Pradesh Luxur stood speaking with a few of the Rivera team members. He was taller than most, with sharp features and a refined aura. His tailored suit seemed to whisper luxury, and he carried himself with an effortless grace that reminded Wendy of someone who had seen the world and had earned his place at the top.
"Ah, Wendy," he said, his eyes turning towards her. "I've heard much about you. They say you're quite the problem-solver around here."
Wendy felt a knot form in her stomach. Was that a compliment, or was he just trying to make small talk?
"Thank you, Mr. Luxur," she said, offering a polite smile. "I try my best."
"I can see that," he replied with a glimmer of interest. His eyes lingered on her a little too long, making Wendy uncomfortable. She tried not to let her nerves show.
"So, you're from Antique, correct?" he asked, his voice smooth and deliberate, as though testing the waters.
"Yes," she replied. "I've been here in Manila for a little while now. It's... different."
Pradesh's lips curled into a knowing smile. "I can imagine. But you're adapting well, I see. It's rare to find someone who isn't overwhelmed by this kind of environment. It's refreshing."
Wendy could feel the weight of his gaze, and she suddenly felt very small in the room. She wasn't sure why she felt exposed, as if he was reading her deeper than he should. But there was something about him—something captivating and mysterious.
"Thank you," she said again, trying to regain her composure.
As the conversation continued, Wendy began to realize that Pradesh wasn't just interested in the collaboration. He was sizing up Rivera, the people behind it, and the potential for future endeavors. He had a vision that went beyond this partnership. He wasn't here for the fame or the glitz of it all—he was here for something much more personal. Something that might threaten the very foundation of Rivera itself. Wendy couldn't shake the feeling that his intentions weren't entirely pure.
Her instincts were telling her to be cautious, to keep her eyes open. But there was a strange part of her that was intrigued by him—by his ambition, by the fire that burned behind his composed exterior.
As the day came to a close, Wendy found herself lingering in the quiet of the office, her thoughts racing. She wasn't sure why, but something in the air felt charged. The evening's fashion show was quickly approaching, and with it came an inevitable confrontation of dreams, desires, and what lay beneath the surface.
Just then, the door opened, and there he was—Liam.
Liam, who always seemed to appear at just the right moment.
"You're still here?" he asked, a note of concern in his voice.
Wendy's heart skipped a beat. "I'm almost done. Just finishing up some details for tomorrow's show."
He stepped inside, his gaze lingering on her in a way that made Wendy's pulse quicken. There was something about him that always seemed to draw her in, something magnetic in the way he looked at her.
"You know, you're working too hard," Liam said, his voice low. "I've been watching you all day, and you don't seem to take a break."
"I'm fine," Wendy said, brushing off his concern with a smile that she hoped masked the unease she felt inside.
But Liam wasn't having it. He stepped closer, his expression softening. "You're not just fine. You're exhausted. You need to pace yourself."
Wendy looked away, suddenly aware of how much her emotions were getting the better of her. "I'm okay, Liam. Really."
Liam didn't respond at first, his gaze searching hers as if trying to read her. Finally, he exhaled. "Alright, but just promise me you'll be careful. The show's a big deal, and I don't want to see you burn out before it even starts."
Wendy nodded, feeling a strange mixture of gratitude and frustration. Why did he always make her feel so seen, so vulnerable? It was as if he could peer into the depths of her soul and know exactly what she was thinking, what she was feeling.
"I'll be fine," she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Liam's gaze softened. He didn't argue. Instead, he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, a simple gesture that sent an electric current through her skin.
"You've got this, Wendy," he said, his voice low, reassuring.
Wendy's heart skipped again, and for a moment, she allowed herself to be lost in the depth of his eyes, the warmth of his touch. But reality pulled her back. There was still so much at stake. So much she didn't understand about the people around her—about Ricci, Pradesh, and even Liam.
What would tomorrow bring? Could she continue to navigate this world of ambition, beauty, and unspoken desires without losing herself? Or was she already too far in, tangled in a web of dreams and unspoken tensions?