Enthralled (The Enslaved Duet 1)

Next to him sat Willa Percy, the CEO and founder of Looking Glass Models, one of the largest modelling agencies in the world. If I landed this job, not only would it secure me this massive, international campaign but also a place on Willa Percy’s golden docket. She was a beautifully groomed African-American woman clad entirely in Chanel, but there was a look in her eyes that didn’t speak of class but of ruthless, poverty-given ambition.

I knew that look because I’d seen it in my eyes often when I looked in the mirror.

The final critic was none other than the man I’d be modelling beside in the campaigns, Jace Galantine. In less than three years, he had appeared on the American model scene and without skipping a beat, he became one of the biggest names in the industry. Now, he had secured his place as the male face of the St. Aubyn brand, and he had the authority to veto whomever he wanted as his female accomplice. He was staring at me intently; his square cut facial features compressed as he studied me.

Boldly, I met his gaze and winked slowly at him.

He blinked before erupting into throaty laughter that was absurdly attractive. “Who is this, Renna?”

The redhead checked her clipboard. “Cosima Moore, 17 years old, Italian, Tivoli Models Roma.”

The judges efficiently located my headshot amid their folders and spent a moment reading it over. It was a short portfolio, and I wrung my hands nervously when Freida Liv tossed it aside with a flick of her thin wrist.

“Your biggest campaign was in June with Mila Cosmetic,” Willa Percy confirmed. “And most recently Intimissimi lingerie?”

“Yes, I was lucky enough to work with some of the most talented people in Italy.” The memory of my time with Intimissimi warmed me, and I felt my usual confidence return, straightening my spine.

“Yes, well, this isn’t a dinky little national campaign.” Freida Liv stared at me with her glacier eyes. “Things are done differently here at St. Aubyn. You have some good runway experience…” She flipped carelessly through the photos of my runway walks for Dolce & Gabbana and Valentino. “But that isn’t what St. Aubyn is looking for.”

“What Freida means to say is”—Jensen shot his colleague a look that spoke volumes—“St. Aubyn is an international fashion house with a cosmetic line, ready to wear and fragrance. You will have to be as adaptive as a chameleon and as strong as a jungle cat. We want someone women envy, Miss Lombardi. We want St. Aubyn to transition from staid, formal wear to sophisticated sex.”

“You’ll need more than a new face to do that,” I said before I could help it. My hand flew to my mouth, but I lowered it just as quickly. Not thinking before I spoke had always been one of my greatest flaws. They might as well know it before hiring me.

Jensen’s white eyebrow rose in his caramel face. “True, it starts with the designers, the creative directors, and the company, but it will end with you, and that is all consumers care about.”

I opened my mouth to ask another question but stopped myself. This was not the kind of environment when it was appropriate for a run of the mill model to make inquiries. Jace Galantine noticed my hesitation and nodded to prompt me.

“Why not hire an actress then? It’s the standard now and I’m sure you’ve been approached by some of the best to represent your revamped brand.”

Jace nodded like a professor pleased with his student even though Freida Liv glared at me viciously. “The new CEO wanted to go another way.”

“It’s a test really,” Jensen explained gruffly, excitement flaring in his tired eyes. “Of the brand. Can we take a no-name beauty and propel her to stardom?” Freida scoffed delicately, but the two men ignored her. “If so, it would do more for the brand than an actor with an identity separate from the brand. Brooke Shields and Calvin Kline Jeans, Adriana Lima and Victoria Secret.” He opened his palms. “A new image calls for a new face.”

“Enough.” Freida cut in, her eyes cold on my face. “Renna will take you to try on a few items.”

I nodded, my heart beating heavily in my chest. My hands shook as Renna helped me pull on the assorted items, a white organza dress that moved over my body like sheets of luminous fog and a brilliant red suit made of individually cut lace panels cut in a sharp V to my belly button. This was the opportunity of a lifetime and I had no idea what to do in order to stand out. I thought of the beautiful women outside, just as capable as me if not more so, and of my family back in Napoli. Fierce determination flooded my blood, hot and vibrant. When I returned to the room in each outfit, I could feel the strength shine like gold lamé against my skin. When I entered wearing the white gown, even Willa Percy seemed impressed.