Her Rebirth.-Chapter 69

Liavenne was bustling with energy as they were about to shoot a fashion ad, with the lead model being Alice Sandalwood, a B-list celebrity who, due to some background dealings, was given the opportunity. Damien didn’t really care if she was an A-list celebrity or a D-list celebrity, all he cared about was that the models would be able to convey the feeling he wanted: seduction and yet innocence, two contrasting themes, ones that even top models might find hard to express. Damien was promoting his new collection titled Reverie.

Amelia, as his dutiful assistant, stood ever quietly beside him as he dished out orders sternly.

The photographers stood with their cameras, taking shots while Alice lay on a bed filled with roses. However, these roses still had their thorns, or at least, that’s what it was meant to look like. She wore a long, flowy chiffon dress that did little to cover what was underneath, its ends adorned with distorted rose petal designs. Her ginger hair was splayed over the bed.

"You are playing the part of a seductress well, but you also need to show that innocence."

Alice nodded and posed again, picking up a rose and placing it on her lips.

"That’s good," Damien said, and the lights began to flash.

Once the photoshoot was done, Alice turned to Damien, her eyes lit up as if waiting for his approval but she saw him whispering in Amelia’s ear, and Amelia smiling brightly.

Alice frowned. She had done everything and anything to get Damien’s attention, but he barely even spared her a glance. Yet here he was, with another woman.

She bit her lip in anger, almost breaking the skin. Her assistant, who was beside her, came with a water bottle, snapping her out of her thoughts. "Here is the cold water you requested."

Alice barely spared her a glance, muttering, "Keep it," before taking a step forward, adjusting the sheer fabric of her dress as she approached Damien and Amelia. Her lips curled into a sweet smile.

"What are you two whispering about?" she asked, tilting her head slightly.

Damien barely spared her a glance. "The lighting adjustments," he answered flatly, his focus still on Amelia as they scanned the test shots together.

Alice’s fingers twitched at his dismissive tone.

Here he was, being all dismissive and cold again.

She quickly masked her irritation with a light laugh. "Oh, I see." Her gaze flickered to Amelia, who remained unbothered, eyes still on the tablet in Damien’s hands.

Not satisfied with being ignored, Alice decided to press further. "I didn’t realize assistants were so... involved in creative decisions."

This time, Amelia did look up, arching a brow. She smiled gently, but Alice got the feeling she was being seen through. "Well," she said smoothly, "when you work closely with someone long enough, you naturally understand their vision. And I am his assistant, aren’t I? It’s my duty to assist him in whatever job-related things he does."

Alice’s smile stiffened.

Damien, still unbothered, handed Amelia the tablet. "Send the final selection to the team."

Alice’s fingers curled into her palm. She had done everything to catch his eye ever since she had seen him in college, from sending him flowers to confessing to him publicly. She had also made sure to buy his collections, even to the point where she fell into debt because of it. And when she got the news that Damien was shooting a fashion ad for his new collection, she had fought tooth and nail, even to the point of selling her body, just to ensure she was the lead model. She had practiced and done everything she could, and yet, he barely acknowledged her.

Meanwhile, this woman, clad in nothing but a simple black gown, who probably hadn’t put a tenth of the effort she had, effortlessly commanded his attention.

It was unacceptable.

"Well, I’d love to see the final shots before they’re sent out," Alice said lightly, attempting to regain some control over the conversation.

Damien finally looked at her then, but his gaze was impassive. "That won’t be necessary."

Alice felt the dismissal sting sharper than she expected, but still, she wouldn’t give up yet. She hadn’t done all that she had just for nothing. If subtlety didn’t work, she’d simply have to be more direct.

She stretched forth her hand, her fingers lightly brushing against his sleeve as she leaned in.

"You know, Damien," she murmured, tilting her head just enough that her perfume lingered between them. "I’d love to hear your thoughts on my performance today... in private."

Damien shifted back ever so slightly, just enough to put distance between them without giving the gesture a second thought. "You did what was expected," he said simply, his attention already moving elsewhere.

Alice’s fingers clenched at his indifference. Her chest burned with frustration.

Why was Damien like this? Why did he always ignore her and dismiss her like she was nothing? Men fell over themselves for her attention, and yet, Damien barely acknowledged her existence beyond a professional exchange.

Well, the fact that he rejected her was the reason she had gone this far anyway. She would conquer him one day and make sure he lay at her feet, begging like a dog.

As for that woman... She had heard her name was Amelia Cosgrove, the abandoned daughter of the Cosgroves. What gave her the effrontery to stand there effortlessly, as if she belonged by his side? As if she was untouchable?

Well, we would see about that.

She turned on her heel, walking briskly toward the dressing room. Once inside, she pulled out her phone.

She tapped the screen and then pressed the device to her ear, her expression shifting instantly. When the line connected, her voice slipped into a coy, almost petulant whine.

"Baby," she pouted, "they are being mean to me, and I don’t like it."

A low chuckle hummed through the receiver. "Who’s ’they’?"

Alice crossed one leg over the other, staring at her reflection in the vanity mirror. "Amelia Cosgrove," she said, her face contorting in jealousy.

There was silence for a moment, then came unexpected laughter.

Alice frowned. "What’s so funny?"

"Oh, sweetheart," the voice drawled, amusement thick in their tone. "Anyone but her."

Alice sat up straighter, her brows knitting together. "What do you mean?"

The person on the other end exhaled, as if considering their words. Then, they murmured, "Anything for you, my love."

The line clicked off before Alice could respond.

She stared at her phone, unease creeping up her spine.

What did he mean?