Chapter 3- Fate
EDWARD'S POV
Squaring my shoulders, I approached the restroom doors, the scent a faint echo leading me forward. Pushing open the cool metal barrier, I scanned the room. A man stood near the basin, his back to me. Hope surged through me as I recognized the familiar shade of copper hair.
"Excuse me?" My voice was a low rasp, barely audible over the sound of running water.
The man turned, a startled expression flickering across his face. But it wasn't him. Disappointment washed over me, an icy wave that threatened to drown the embers of hope. Disheartened, I mumbled an apology and retreated from the restroom.
The scent, once a beacon, was now a cruel tease. It seemed to linger everywhere and nowhere, leading me on a futile chase. Dejected, I slunk back towards the conference room, the unfinished meeting a dull ache in the back of my mind.
AUTHOR'S POV
On the other side of the building, a hallway away from allbdespair, Ian, the man with auburn hair, emerged from a different restroom. He straightened his tie, a nervous flutter in his stomach.
He pushed thoughts aside, focusing on the upcoming meeting. With a deep breath, he entered the conference room, greeted by the expectant faces of Izza, Jake, and Michael, the executive director of Eclipse Fashion.
"Sorry I'm late," Ian said, a smile plastered on his face. "Nature called."
Little did he know, on the other side of the building, his mate echoed the sentiment, his heart heavy with a different kind of longing. Their paths had crossed, tantalizingly close, but fate, for now, had other plans.
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Izza, Jake, and Ian huddled around the conference table, their presentation open on a laptop in front of Michael, the executive director of Eclipse Fashion. Michael, a man whose smile seemed permanently etched on his face, leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers.
"The designs are… interesting," Michael drawled, his gaze lingering a little too long on Ian. "Very 'out there,' wouldn't you say?"
Ian, ever the diplomat, offered a polite smile. "Our target audience appreciates a touch of unconventionality, Mr. Thorne. It sets us apart."
The conversation flowed, or rather, Izza and Jake expertly steered it, outlining their sponsorship proposal for the upcoming Greener Threads event. Michael, however, seemed more interested in Ian himself. His compliments, though veiled as business observations, made Ian increasingly uncomfortable. He shifted in his seat, the scent of Michael's cologne, a sharp burnt cigarette like, made him more uncomfortable
Suddenly, Michael leaned forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Speaking of setting things apart, you'd be the perfect addition to our upcoming soirée, wouldn't you, Ian?"
A knot of apprehension tightened in Ian's stomach. Eclipse Fashion was known for its extravagant after-parties, and Ian, with his quiet demeanor, preferred a low profile. "A party, sir? I'm not sure—"
"Nonsense!" Michael boomed, his smile widening. "This is a chance to network, mingle with industry giants. Plus," he leaned in even closer, his voice dropping to a sultry tone, "I promised I'd introduce you to many big ones myself. Men and women with an eye for talent, wouldn't you agree?"
Ian felt a prickle of unease crawl up his spine. The 'men and women' and 'talent' comments reeked of something more than just professional interest. He stole a glance at Izza and Jake, hoping they'd pick up on his discomfort. But they were engrossed in their presentation, oblivious to the undercurrent in Michael's words.
Trapped between his desire to secure sponsorship and his growing unease, Ian knew he had to tread carefully. "Thank you for the offer, Mr. Thorne," he said, forcing a smile. "I'll certainly consider it."
Michael's smile faltered for a brief moment, then returned, a touch less genuine. "Excellent! Consider it an invitation, then. Saturday night, the Eclipse Tower penthouse. Don't be late."
With a final, lingering look at Ian, Michael turned his attention back to the proposal. Ian, his heart pounding with a mix of anxiety , nodded curtly. The sponsorship deal hung in the balance, and with it, the future of Style maven too.
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As the day morphed into an evening pulsating with music and chatter, the Eclipse Tower penthouse transformed into a glittering hive of power players. CEOs mingled with socialites, fashion icons with venture capitalists, all swirling around a central stage where a spotlight awaited. In the heart of it all, stood Edward, The CEO of Eclipse fashion
Clad in a bespoke suit that hugged his form like a second skin, he exuded an aura of quiet power. His hair, usually tousled, was tamed into a sleek style, and a hint of amusement danced in his eyes. Years of experience as the CEO of Eclipse Fashion had honed his charisma into a sharp edge. He was the consummate host, the man at the helm of this extravagant affair.
Little did anyone know, the turmoil within him mirrored the pulsating beat of the music. The scent of his mate, the encounter that had thrown his world into disarray, was a constant echo in his senses. He scanned the faces in the crowd, searching for a flicker of recognition, a hint of the auburn hair and cologne that had branded itself into his memory.
A hush fell over the room as Edward raised a glass, the clinking of crystal echoing in the sudden silence. "Welcome, everyone," his voice, deep and resonating, boomed across the room. "Tonight, we celebrate not just fashion, but innovation, sustainability, and the future we are all shaping together."
His gaze swept the crowd again, an unyielding determination hardening his features. He wouldn't let the disappointment of the past few days cloud his purpose. Tonight, he was the CEO, the leader, the man who built Eclipse Fashion into an empire. But deep down, beneath the veneer of power, a primal yearning thrummed – the unyielding need to find his mate, the other half of his soul, even amidst this glittering chaos.
On the other side the pulsating bass throbbed through Ian as he and Jake stepped into the opulent penthouse. A glittering world of wealth and privilege unfolded before them – a stark contrast to their usual design studio. Men in tailored suits mingled with women dripping in diamonds, all radiating an air of effortless superiority. Ian felt a flicker of self-consciousness, his simple clothes clashing with the designer labels surrounding him. He caught Jake's eye, a silent understanding passing between them. They were outsiders here, but for Izza, for Style maven, they'd brave this opulent jungle.
Ian adjusted his tie, a nervous gesture.
Navigating the sea of bodies, they finally reached a quieter corner of the room. Relief washed over Ian – a moment to breathe, to gather his thoughts.
"This is insane, right?" Jake leaned in, his voice barely audible over the music. "All these rich people, just here to flaunt their money."
Ian chuckled, a nervous sound. "Maybe. But at least it might get Michael to loosen his purse strings for our sponsorship."
As if summoned by the thought, a figure materialized in front of them. Michael, his smile as polished as his shoes, exuded an air of predatory charm. "Well, well, well," he drawled, his gaze lingering a little too long on Ian. "There you are, Ian. Glad you could make it."
Ian forced a smile, the weight of Michael's earlier comment pressing down on him. "Of course, Mr. Thorne. Wouldn't miss it."
Michael's eyes flickered towards Jake, then back to Ian. "Excellent. I was just introducing myself to some… influential guests. Perhaps you'd like to join us?"
Intuition screamed at Ian to decline, but the thought of securing sponsorship for Greener Threads silenced his reservations. With a deep breath, he stepped forward, Jake at his side. He was here for a purpose, and he wouldn't let his discomfort deter him. As they entered the circle of well-heeled individuals, Ian couldn't help but feel like prey navigating a den of wolves. Little did he know, his true mate, the alpha he was destined for, was just a few steps away, observing him with a captivating mix of amusement and longing.