Chapter 3

Aella, dressed in a visibly wrinkled short-sleeved beige shirt and slightly faded sage green pants, stared at herself in front of the half-broken mirror.

Her hands were clasped in front of her as her gaze anxiously shifted from her face to her heels and back again.

She tugged at her blouse, trying to smooth out a very visible wrinkle, and gave her hair another check—probably for the millionth time.

A thousand worries raced through her mind as she thought about the impending interview. Her stomach churned with nerves, and her heart raced in her chest.

"Aella… calm down… It's just an interview; no one is going to bite you," she whispered to herself, taking a deep breath in an attempt to soothe her frayed nerves.

Time was running out; she needed to find some way to get the money for her grandmother's transplant surgery, but after several unsuccessful attempts to get a job as a waitress or even a cleaner at a prestigious restaurant, she decided to put up her skills as a dressmaker.

Over the past few years, she had learned the craft from her grandmother, who was a highly skilled dressmaker herself but had to give it up due to chronic backaches.

Having accidentally stumbled on the vacancy at a very big and prominent fashion house, Aella decided to try her luck.

She had almost given up hope about the job. It had been two weeks since she submitted her application along with the dress she made from scraps of fabrics from her grandmother's old clothing, as requested, and she hadn't received any response from the company.

She remembered how she refreshed her email almost every five minutes to check for an invite or even a rejection from the company, but her inbox remained disappointingly empty.

Tired and desperate, she had been scrolling through job listings on the internet yesterday evening when an email notification suddenly popped on her screen.

To her delight, it was an invitation for the final interview, scheduled for the following morning.

Her joy knew no bounds as she immediately abandoned her online job search and started searching through her wardrobe for the perfect outfit for the upcoming interview.

Staring at herself one more time, she checked the time, and it was 7:01 a.m. already. She took a deep breath to steady herself, quickly picked up her black handbag, and headed out.

Forty-nine minutes later, she was standing in awe as she approached the building, her eyes drawn upward to the grand façade.

Massive glass windows glitter in the sun, reflecting the bustling cityscape. The sleek lines of modern architecture are softened by delicate vines creeping up the walls, and beautiful flower boxes decorate the balconies.

The entrance is an elegant archway, flanked by stately pillars. The whole building exudes luxury and sophistication, inviting her to step inside and explore.

Aella was almost drooling as she gaped at the building. She quickly got a hold of herself, realizing it was almost 8 a.m., and she had to be inside by then.

Walking into the reception, she was so captivated by its magnificence that she almost dropped her bag.

If she thought the exterior decor was light, the interior decor was even more stunning. Gathering herself, she walked toward the receptionist.

"Good morning, my name is Aella... Aella Thompson. I was invited for an interview this morning," she said to the young, beautiful lady who appeared to be in her early twenties, returning her smile.

"You are welcome, Miss Thompson. The waiting area is on the third floor, second door on your left," the receptionist informed her.

"Thank you," Aella replied with a nod.

Upon reaching the waiting area, she saw many applicants who appeared more professionally dressed than she was.

Aella couldn't help but feel a bit inferior, and her nervousness resurfaced, causing her to doubt her chances of being accepted.

As she took her seat beside a young woman who seemed to pass a judgmental glance her way, Aella heard a male voice call her name, "Is Miss. Thompson here?" He asked as he entered the waiting area.

"Yes, I am," she replied, though hesitant as her brows furrowed in confusion as she wondered what was going on.

"Follow me; the CEO wants to interview you personally," the young man informed her.

The eyebrows of the other applicants raised at the young man's words, equally surprised, just like Aella, who was growing increasingly concerned about why the CEO would want to interview her personally.

Despite her worries, she obediently followed the man. After a few minutes, they arrived at the CEO's office door.

The man gave a small knock, and a deep baritone voice, filled with authority, responded, "Come in."

He then turned, gesturing for Aella to enter, and she nodded nervously. She wrapped her shaky fingers around the doorknob and turned it, pushing the door open slowly.

She stood fixed to a spot as soon as she entered the office.

The office was decorated with the finest materials, befitting a wealthy man's status.

The desk was made of rich, dark mahogany with inlaid gold accents. The chairs were upholstered in the softest leather, and the walls were adorned with works of art from renowned artists.

The floors were covered in plush Persian rugs, and the windows were framed with heavy curtains in a deep burgundy. The whole room screamed power and wealth.

As she scanned the room, her eyes fell upon a chair whose back was facing her. "Good morning," she said in a very low voice.

She could tell there was someone seated in it as she could see glimpses of dark, shining hair, but what she couldn't tell was why he or she had the chair turned away from her.

Patiently awaiting his response, Aella remained at her standing point, and soon the chair turned slowly.

She was faced with none other than the man who had splashed dirty water on her a few weeks ago.

"You!!" She was shocked.

"It's a pleasure to meet with you again, Miss. Aella Thompson," he greeted with a smirk, his tone full of mischief. "The name's Damien Sullivan."