CHAPTER 3: THE MAN THE MYTH THE LEGEND

Back in her room, Emma slammed the door and ran to her bed. She fell face-first onto the mattress and sobbed with her face buried into the pillow so that her younger sister and little niece in the next room wouldn't hear her crying. She had slipped past their doors earlier, too ashamed to face them. Misty adored her and Jovana idolized her. Emma had always tried to set an example, to make them believe dreams could come true and that they wouldn't be forced into marriage. But she had indeed tried in vain. Her future had been sold to the highest bidder.

She had no money and no one else to turn to. Her father had spent her future away and she was to be married off to save the family.

That was not the plan. 

Emma wanted to build a passionate, extraordinary life. She had pictured a small studio first. Then maybe her paintings in the national gallery. And then God-willingly winning awards and her designs getting worn by top fashion icons. But it was all gone now.

Then came the thing she feared most.

Self-doubt.

Maybe she was just childish and silly like Bridget always said. The thought of Bridget being right twisted a sharp knot in her belly.

By now her tears had dried and she was staring blankly at the wall. 

She picked up her phone again. The Crestfield email was still on the screen when she earlier burst out running from that embarrassing scene in the living room:

'Your portfolio stood out remarkably and earned unanimous praise from our admissions panel...'

Her eyes ran through the words.

'You are one of only twenty-two chosen...'

Emma didn't have the strength to read that sentence to the end.

'To confirm your interest once again, kindly make a payment...'

She scrolled past this part too, till the end of the message:

'We cannot wait to witness and help shape the brilliance of your artistic journey here at Crestfield. The future is yours to paint.'

'No, the future has been sold,' she thought. 

She closed her eyes and buried her face in her pillow again.

Her phone buzzed. A message.

She turned and clicked it open. It was her school mate, Vanessa:

'Congraaaaaaaatulations, you pretty one. The mighty Crestfield? I still can't believe it. I know how much this means to you. Enjoy your day.'

'Enjoy your day'? The words were kind but to Emma it felt like salt rubbed into her wound. And the tears came back again.

Another buzz. Hellena's boyfriend Leo, also an art student:

'So it's true. Made it to Crestfield, huh? A top-notch school for a top notch talent. You know you deserve it. Don't forget to sign my brush before you go. (A smiley face emoji)'

Emma turned the phone face-down and turned her head away from it.

It buzzed again. 

She turned sharp in anger, grabbed her phone and turned off vibration mode.  

Just as she thought of sleeping her misery off, her phone chimed.

'Ping!' 

She looked. Another message.

She thought she had switched her phone to silent mode but instead, she'd mistakenly turned it from vibration mode to loud mode.

The contact name read: Monsieur Lucien Duvall. Her art teacher.

Emma's finger hovered over the box icon for a while. However much she tried, she couldn't resist reading the message, for he was her mentor and they were so close. She tapped it open:

'Just heard the news. You've made me so proud, dear. You are walking the path your grandfather dreamed for you. Just remember always keep your head up.'

Tears stung Emma's eyes and the thought of her grandfather flashed in her mind. She imagined him sitting in his old studio, a soft smile under that funny, silly moustache every time Emma stepped in.

Ping! Another message interrupted her thought.

Before she could open it, another. Ping!

Then...

Ping!

Ping!

Ping!

One by one, the messages poured in, each more congratulatory and unbearable.

Given Emma's miserable situation, every 'ping' felt like a slap to the face. She unlocked her phone to turn it off completely but was shocked to see a message from someone she had not expected.

Even her harsh rival, popularly known in school as 'Jealous Betty', had texted her. And her message wasn't mean either:

'We may not see eye to eye. But you know I give respect where it's due. Crestfield is a whole other level. Respect!'

From there on, temptation got the better of her. She scrolled through messages as more and more flooded in.

The sweet messages made Emma so sad. And as more messages poured in, so did her tears.

When she saw her picture on the school's website with an article bragging about her being the only one from her city to make it to Crestfield, Emma couldn't take it anymore. 

She threw her phone with rage across the room. It landed on the sofa and bounced to the floor.

She coiled on her bed, sobbing lightly.

After a short while, her phone rang but she didn't bother. 

Beep. 

Straight to voicemail. 

An excited female voice blared out:

''EMMAAAA!!!! I just heard your name read in the news. I told you you'd make it. Queen of colours indeed. You better not forget us when you become famous. And please call me ASAP, we need to celebrate.''

Beep.

Emma had no energy left now. She'd stopped crying and lay staring at the ceiling silently.

A sudden commotion in the corridor made her sit up. She wiped her eyes dry as the door swung open. 

"TA-DAAA!" Misty twirled round dramatically in a glamorous blue dress, her shiny black hair beautifully done into a bun. "We are done preparing. Guess what, Hellena said she's paying for everything tonight."

Emma forced a smile. "You look... amazing."

"I know, right?" Misty laughed. "Hellena picked this for me."

Hellena appeared behind her and the two walked in.

"You haven't even bathed yet?" Misty frowned.

Hellena had not spoken but Emma noticed the questioning look on her face. She knew her friend had already figured out something was wrong. 

Emma opened her mouth to say something but the words stopped in her throat and her eyes shot to the door. Everyone followed her gaze.

"JORDAN, GIRLS' ROOM!!!" Misty yelled. 

Their tall and muscular eighteen year old brother was standing at the door.

"Chill, I'm just here to congratulate Emma and I'll be off to practice." He walked in spinning a football in his hands. His broad shoulders and tight muscles fit nicely in the sports jersey he wore. 

"We haven't forgotten your cruel prank," Misty said and pinched his arm.

"Jeez! You have zero sense of humor." Jordan walked past Misty and offered a fist bump to Emma who smiled weakly and bumped her fist onto his. 

He sat on the arm of the sofa and eyed Emma intently. 

"What?" Emma said.

"I'm trying to figure out what kind of luck you have."

"It's called talent," Hellena said.

"No, for Crestfield, maybe. But to land a date with the Silver Wolf himself..." Jordan shook his head.

"What's he talking about," Hellena glanced at Emma. 

"Oh, you haven't heard?" Jordan's face brightened. "She's going on a date with a film star."

"WHAAAT?" All three girls said at once.

"Yeah, Dad just told me Rowland Montero asked her out on a date."

Emma froze. What?

Rowland Montero? 

They had only told her a powerful man. She didn't expect...that powerful.

"You should see your faces. Guess you girls don't share everything after all," Jordan chuckled.

"I'm late for practice." He got up, still spinning the ball in his hand, and headed for the door.

As he walked past Misty, he faked a ball throw to her face. 

"Jordan!" Misty flinched.

"Later, loser." He laughed and was out the door.

None of the girls spoke at first.

"Wow!" Misty said finally, walked over and sat by Emma. "Things are really turning up nicely for you sis."

Emma didn't know what to say as the news had her in shock herself.

"Forget the celebration for now," she said flatly as she grabbed a towel.

"What's wrong?" Hellena asked.

"Yeah, what's wrong. If we aren't going out, then I look like an idiot in this dress." Misty said.

Under the hiss of the of the shower, Emma's thoughts tangled with grief, confusion and disbelief. On the one hand, her heart was still broken by her crashed dream. On the other hand, she was slightly relieved, pleasantly surprised even. She had pictured the powerful man as some old ugly man. But instead, it was the handsome and mysterious Silver Wolf. A man so wealthy yet so young he was still in his late twenties. He wasn't just one of the billionaires in the country. He was the top of the cream. Genius business man and the most sought after bachelor in the city. 

It scared Emma how easily hope crept back in.

Maybe it won't be so bad. A brilliant man like him, maybe he will empathize with her, understand her vision and even sponsor her to Crestfield himself. 

Emma hated hope, because it is something both soothing and troubling at the same time. He could save her... but will he? 

She was getting married to the brilliant, powerful billionaire she had only seen on TV screens and billboards...

The city's most celebrated business man and film star...

Rowland Montero.