I looked out the window, trying to calm my nerves. But, it was more than just simple uneasiness. I was on the verge of a breakdown, and my fingers were trembling uncontrollably. Partly because it was my first time on a plane, partly because I would soon be leaving the place I'd always called home.

I was a simple small town girl. I'd never been to big cities, except for Paris, and those trips too were just a handful. Something I could count on my fingertips. Again, it was one thing to take a trip abroad, it was another to stay there for good.

Especially, when I wasn't aware of how long that forever would be.

It could be years, it could also be a couple of months, depending on how well I did. But, would that be the only factor affecting my fate? Would everything be fine if I just worked harder?

For the last six years, I'd never had a major setback, because I'd invariably done my part perfectly. But past experiences had taught me that one's life wasn't just shaped by their actions, but by those of everyone they kept around.

My life too would further be determined by the people who would stay close to me.

But the fact that I didn't know who they would be, or even get a choice in this, was what made me the most anxious. For the next year, I had no say in my own life, all I had to do was play by the rules of another person, and pray I can still keep myself sane and sound.

Sounded perfect for me.

I looked to my left, and found my mama sleeping peacefully as soon as the plane took off. I smiled fondly, once again remembering why I was doing all this. Compared to the things she had gone through for me, my sacrifice was but just a drop. I could, and would pull this one year off, no matter what.

Eight hours later, I was getting off the plane with my mama, assuring myself that everything would be fine. New York, in my eyes, was anything but what they wrote in the newspapers. Even though the airport was gigantic, people occupied every inch of it. There was barely any room to move, and I felt asphyxiated.

I was already missing the peace of Chantilly.

We somehow went through all the procedures, and I kept my mama close at all times. She was more afraid and lost than me, as she didn't understand English that well. After an excruciating hour, when we finally came out, I instantly recognized the man who was supposed to pick us up.

Black hair, pale green eyes, and ridiculously tall, this young man was dressed in proper office attire. The white shirt and grey sweater on top strangely complimented his pale skin, and he even had a charming smile. What was he doing as a secretary? He should have been a model.

"Mr. Brice Martin?" I asked once we reached him at the barricade, and he smiled once again.

"Ms. Fontaine. Welcome to New York. I'm Brice Martin, and I will be escorting you and your mother to our office. Mr. Beaumont will then tell you what to do next. Please follow me."

I nodded, and another man came up from behind Brice, taking our luggage from my hands. There wasn't a lot, just three suitcases filled with my books and other stuff I considered precious. Still, I felt uneasy and uncomfortable letting someone else do all the work for me. I was going to stop him from taking my suitcases, but the secretary intervened.

"That's his job. Please, let him do so."

I stopped moving, and let the man do all the work. It was painful to watch, so I looked away. Indeed, this was how the rich lived, and I would have to get used to it very soon. Instead, I focused on the skyline of New York, which elevated my mood slightly. Thousands of different lights lit up the skies and the streets, bustling with people and vehicles.

Somehow, this crowd felt better than when I was inside the airport, and I even felt attracted towards this scene. If I would get to see this every night, I could do without the forests and gardens of Chantilly.

The luggage was already in the car, and as we were about to get in, mama called for my attention. "J'aime ce homme. Si chaque homme autour de toi est comme lui, je serai très heureux."

(I like this man. If every man around you is like him, I'll be very happy.)

I gave her a small smile, and ushered her inside the car. Little did she know, I was going to become the wife of the world's most notorious man, who had never learnt the word 'manners'.

When people said New York was huge, they weren't lying. We had been driving for about thirty minutes now, and the company building was still not in sight. Dozens of buildings passed by, and I was still amazed by every single one of them. Finally after forty minutes, I could see the infamous Panache building ahead of me.

White and flawless, just like in those pictures, all thirty floors shone with lights. The car stopped at the grand white stairs, which were so high I couldn't even see the main entrance from here.

Brice looked behind and said, "Ms. Fontaine, Mr. Beaumont wants you to come alone. If you don't mind, I will be here to keep your mother company."

I nodded. "That's alright. Thank you for everything."

Then, I turned to mama and told her the same in french so that she won't worry too much. "Je reviens vite, mama."

(I'll be back.)

"If you go upto the reception, and tell them your name, you will be allowed inside. Have a great time."

I smiled. "Thank you."

I took a deep breath, and walked up the grand stairs. The steps led towards the main entrance, which was again, just like I'd seen in pictures. The famous door that every designer and model wished to walk through, was right in front of me. Though in a crooked manner, I was still happy that I was a step closer to my dream.

I walked inside, and felt myself getting lost in the enormous crowd, yet again. Slowly, I found my way to the main desk, which was on my right. The huge building would definitely require a lot of walking, which was partly good for me since I wasn't too fond of actively working out.

The process was easier than I expected, and I was inside a private elevator going for the top floor in no time. Nervousness pooled in my stomach once again, but I calmed myself down by fisting my hands. It was a technique that worked miraculously whenever I was anxious, nervous, or angry.

The doors opened to a magnificent white hallway, which was no less opulent than the rest of the building. The top floor alone was so large and unoccupied, that it made my head spin. I had experienced being alone in huge gardens before, but never inside a building, and this new experience scared me a little.

Another secretary guided me towards the main office, opened the door for me. There I was finally, in the office of the man who had inspired me to become a fashion designer. Who had motivated me to spend countless sleepless nights making and remaking my designs. Who had brought me here, and given me a new life.

This was another step towards fulfilling my dream.

But, I quickly noticed he wasn't alone. Silky long silver hair, tied up in a low bun. Sharp jawline threatening to cut through skin. Broad back and chest, enclosed in a black suit. Long legs crossed over one another. Slender fingers holding a glass of whiskey. Grey eyes cast downward, focused on swishing the cool liquid inside the glass.

This man must really like his liquor, to stare at it so lovingly.

"Lizette, come in dear. How was your trip?" Florian greeted me with his usual big smile, and I returned it.

His words caught the young man's attention, and his head snapped up to see who had entered. That's when I saw what everyone did. Stormy grey eyes, not the dull shade of a hurricane, but the striking hue of sterling silver. They were instantly trained on me with a striking intensity.

Never moving away from me, they moved up and down my body, very slowly. Like a machine that scans human bodies, his eyes scanned me, making me almost squirm in my place. The stoic expression then changed into.... a scoff? He seemed to hate me, which was probably why he sneered at me, shaking his head.

I focused on Florian again. "It was fine. I barely had any problems. I hope you're doing okay as well."

"Of course, of course. Come on in, have a seat. You must be tired, so I'm sorry to take more of your time. But, this is important stuff, so it's better if we discuss everything upfront. Right?" He said, and I nodded again.

"You're right. Let's-" I was promptly stopped by the young man intervening again.

"Who the hell is she, dad? Why have you even called a girl like her? Is she a new model? Actress?"

I fumed inwardly. Now I understood it. The reason why Florian needed me so badly. His son was a bigger mess than I'd been informed. Had absolutely no manners, and his tie was crooked. That was the most annoying part.

"Why don't you ask me directly? I can speak for myself." I said coldly, which diverted his attention.

He eyed me up and down once again, still very confused.

"Lizette, meet my son André. André, she's Lizette Fontaine, from your hometown Chantilly. Treat her well."

The poor man kept looking back and forth between us, seeming to have no idea of the catastrophe about to fall on him.

"Oh... it's nice to meet you Mr. Beaumont."

"You." He pointed at me. "You don't know who I am?"

Oh wow, he was narcissistic as well. I just stared at him, but he seemed to be serious.

I sighed. "Well, you somewhat looked familiar, but not quite. Anyways, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Lizette Fontaine, and I have a feeling we will be seeing each other a lot more in the future."

"What?"

"And oh, if you could make the effort to straighten your tie, it would be very much appreciated. I absolutely abhor crooked ties."

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