Chapter 4

Valda’s POV

The savory smell of freshly made pancakes alongside freshly squeezed orange juice was the first thing that hit me when I came down the stairs. My hair was still messy from sleep, my silk robe tied loosely around me.

I was still getting used to the luxury of Alexander’s penthouse. Everything about it screamed money— the beautiful paintings, the glass walls and the exquisite furnitures.

I saw him sitting at the long dining table, his eyes fixed on his phone. He was dressed sharply even though it was barely morning. A black shirt, sleeves rolled up, showing off his strong forearms and his tattoos. Beside him was a plate of untouched pancakes and a steaming cup of coffee. He looked up the moment he heard me.

“Morning,” I said softly, taking my seat, making sure to keep a reasonable distance from him. 

He chuckled at my actions.

“Good, you’re up.” His tone was businesslike. “Eat quickly. We’re leaving soon.”

“Leaving?” I blinked at him, placing my hand over my mouth as I yawned. "Where to?”

He dropped his phone. His eyes, sharp and unreadable, locked on mine. “A shoot. Public image requires maintenance, Valda. And today, you’re going to be by my side.”

I was still surprised. A shoot. That meant photographers, cameras, lights—all staring at me. My stomach twisted with anxiety. “What kind of shoot will it be?”

Alexander smirked, sipping his coffee like he enjoyed keeping me in suspense. “You’ll see. Just be ready in an hour.”

I wanted to argue, but instead I forced myself to nod. “Fine.”

After breakfast, I went back to my room, nerves chewing at me. An hour later, there was a  black car that was waiting downstairs.

 Alexander sat beside me in the back, scrolling through his phone, giving me little attention. My hands played with the hem of my dress the entire ride.

The shoot was set up in a luxury hotel, and the moment I walked into the suite, I froze. There were Cameras, lingeries scattered on the bed. I saw a famous director that I knew because I was a huge fan of their magazine.

It was a shoot for the famous R18 magazine, Pure seduction!

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered under my breath.

A stylist walked up, smiling politely. “Miss Valda, this way please.” She guided me into a changing room where a silky black lingerie set waited. I stared at it in disbelief, but I had no choice. I slipped it on, the fabric hugging me in ways that made me want to cover myself.

Yes, I may like the magazine but never in my wildest dream did I ever see the part where I would be a freaking model for them!

When I stepped out, Alexander’s gaze found me instantly. He was standing by the bed they had staged for the first set. His eyes looked at every part of my body, then he forced his self to avert his gaze.

“Beautiful,” the director clapped his hands. “We’re starting with the straddle scene. Valda, you’ll sit on Alexander’s lap. Look into his eyes. Pretend he’s the only man you’ve ever wanted.”

I swallowed hard. This was going to be torture.

Alexander sat down on the bed, leaning back casually, like he was perfectly comfortable. I climbed onto the bed, straddling his lap. My hands resting hesitantly on his shoulders. He was warm beneath me, the hard planes of his chest solid against my thin lingerie.

“Closer,” the director instructed.

I shifted reluctantly, our faces inches apart.

 Alexander’s lips curled with amusement, like he knew I was fighting every second of this. He was enjoying it, how dare he?

“Don’t look like you want to kill him,” the director called out. “Look like you want to kiss him.”

I rolled my eyes, but forced myself to lean closer, my lips nearly brushing his. Alexander’s hand came up, resting firmly on my waist. For a split second, my heart jumped.

“Perfect!” the cameras flashed.

The next scene was worse. At this point, I wanted to say no but I had signed up for this so I swallowed it.

“Against the wall,” the director said. “Alexander, pin her.”

Before I could process, Alexander’s hand wrapped around my wrist. He moved me to the wall, pressing me back gently but firmly. His body caged mine in, towering and dominating.

 His palm was against the wall close to my head, the other hand touching my hip. I sucked in a breath, heat curling in my stomach despite myself.

“Don’t look so stiff, Valda,” he murmured low enough only for me to hear. “Relax. Or people will think you’re still fighting me.”

“I am fighting you,” I snapped under my breath.

His lips twitched like he enjoyed my defiance.

“Good, good!” the director shouted, the cameras going off like fireworks on new year's eve.

By the time we reached the final scene, my nerves were going crazy. This one was by the pool. The crew had set it up with soft lighting, the water was shining blue. I was told to wear  another piece of lingerie, this one lighter, clinging to me like a second skin. My body had been oiled earlier, making my skin shine under the lights.

Alexander had changed, his upper body bare and the tattoos made it much better. The director told us to get in. The water was cool, wrapping around me as I entered.

The scene was sensual, intimate. My hands were instructed to rest on his chest, his hand sliding down my back as we moved close together. I hated that I could feel the strength of him, the heat of him even through the water.

“Closer,” the director ordered.

I grit my teeth but obeyed.

“And now… kiss.”

My head snapped toward him. “What?” I blinked in surprise.

“Kiss,” the director repeated. “We need the chemistry.” he said. "Makes it much better."

I froze, I wanted to scream and get out of the water but I couldn't. Alexander stood there, waiting. 

Slowly, carefully, I leaned in. My lips brushed his—light, hesitant, quick. The taste of him lingered, warm and electric, sending a jolt straight through me. I pulled back instantly, cheeks burning with embarrassment, my chest heaving.

“That’s it!” the director exclaimed. “Perfect. Absolutely perfect.”

I turned away, trying to hide my flustered expression. Alexander, of course, looked calm. But his eyes were on me, unreadable and deep, as if he was thinking something he didn’t dare say aloud.

I swore silently to myself as the cameras kept flashing. This was just a contract. Nothing more. Everybody would react like that, I tried to justify my bodily reaction.

So why did it feel like something was breaking inside me?