Arrogant Perfume Novels & Stories

Roby gripped Larisa’s shoulders tightly, his fingers pressing hard enough to almost hurt. His eyes narrowed sharply, as if trying to see straight through her. The masculine scent lingering on her neck felt like a harsh slap to his pride—sharp, unsettling, and fueling an anger he could barely control. “Answer me, Larisa! Whose perfume is this? This isn’t the scent you usually wear—and it’s definitely not a woman’s fragrance. This is a man’s perfume!”

"I feel the same. I'll let you guys in on a secret—the perfumes I personally use are by Star&Ciel Group. I've never even touched our company's perfumes. I give them away during the holiday season. "Whenever I throw them away, I can't help thinking there's nothing special about their fragrance or quality. We're only keeping the perfumes' sales going through marketing tactics and gimmicks," the second employee said. "Keep your voices down. If Mr. Johnson's arrogant eldest daughter hears us, we'll be in trouble." This came from a fourth employee. "I'm the same, guys. I've never used any of our company's products. I tried something once, and it triggered my allergies. It scared the hell out of m

I turned to find a man in what had to be a million-dollar suit; Tom Ford, if I had to guess, tailored so precisely it looked painted on. Men in Florence loved fragrances that announced them before they even spoke, scents that telegraphed wealth and status like olfactory calling cards. Silvio Romano's cologne preceded him by several feet: something dark and woody with notes of bergamot and vetiver, expensive enough that I could probably identify the brand if I thought hard enough.

She was probably hoping for Sigrid to fall again! George liked that Sigrid hid behind him. "You have a strong unpleasant odor. Stay away from Sigrid." Loris was about to talk to George. But when she heard him dislike the scent on her body, she stomped her feet in dissatisfaction. "George, this is a new limited-edition perfume. A small bottle of this is worth more than one hundred thousand dollars! How could it have an unpleasant odor!" "It doesn't smell nice. Stand further away from us!" His voice was cold with a little disgust. He even said it in a commanding tone, which made Loris dissatisfied. However, she still took a few steps back.

If they boycott me, I could lose an inordinate amount of money and risk the future of the company. Taking a deep breath, I turn towards her and carefully choose my words. “La Louve is my creation, but its products stand on their own. Our customers do not wear our fragrances because they support our politics or enterprises, they wear La louve because it is the height of elegance and prestige. Our competitors cannot come close to matching our exclusive scents, and any woman of taste knows that her perfume choice is not merely a fashion statement, but a reflection of her identity.”

I was so left out with thought when we mistakenly bumped into each other and have coffee spilled all over my expensive suits. "Can't you check if you are okay?? I wanna get back to work" she rolled her eyes... " you spilled coffee on me?" I said looking at my suit "you pushed me in the mud.. I guess we are even now... You know you should tell me if you are fine... you know you arrogant men love to create a volcano out of an ant hill.." she said " I am sure it's not said like that.." I said authoritatively. "Okay, Mr. knows it all" she glared at me with annoyance...

I asked, my tone laced with thinly veiled sarcasm. Zack's lips curled into a smug smile. "You will now serve as my second personal assistant," he announced, his tone laced with malice. "You'll be assisting me with various tasks and making yourself useful to me." I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at his arrogance. "Understood," I replied through gritted teeth, my fists trembling with suppressed anger. Zack smirked triumphantly, clearly relishing my discomfort. "Good," he said dismissively. "You can start by fetching me a coffee. And make it quick."

Nicholas stepped back into his car. He started the engine and turned on the air conditioning, but didn’t drive off yet. He reached for the suit jacket Portia had used to cover herself earlier. He purposely lowered the temperature to make the car uncomfortably cold, all so he could act like a gentleman and earn her favor. What drove him to pick up his own jacket and sniff it? The faint, sweet scent of the young woman still lingered on the fabric, mingling with his own cologne. He pulled the jacket close to his nose, inhaling deeply before tossing it back into place and steering the car out of the parking lot.

It was a massive, expensive wall of noise designed to swallow me whole, a reminder of the sheer, unyielding power Caleb wielded when he wanted to put on a show. Caleb skated past the red line, deliberately slowing his stride right in front of me. He didn't look broken anymore; he had put on his armor of absolute arrogance. He gestured toward the roaring VIP boxes with the blade of his stick, his eyes locking onto mine with a cold, predatory confidence.

[note to QI: above line says perfume too, so I kept this neutral/vague by changing to liquid] She then glared at me and asked, "Did you tamper with the perfume, Helena?" I shrugged my shoulders, looking completely innocent. "What on earth are you talking about? Why don't I understand what you're getting at, Queenie? Is it possible that your perfume has simply gone bad?" Queenie asked through gritted teeth, "Didn't you realize that the person who uses this perfume can't actually smell it? How did the perfume I gave you end up on my vanity, Helena?"