Dangerous Territory

Esmeralda stared at her reflection in the mirror. She looked very different, in a sexy kind of way. She wished Greta and Margot would see her like this. Her red hair was packed up in a tight bun, something she had never done since the beginning of the year.

She didn't know much about makeovers, but her smoky eyes and chapstick gave her the look she was hoping for. She was going to work for the prince. The prince. Her legs suddenly could not carry her. She leaned on the vanity, inhaling and exhaling to grab a hold of herself. 

After receiving a letter of confirmation from Ravina, she started to question herself. Was she doing the right thing? She had even prayed to the heavens to give her a sign if she was doing the wrong thing.

She was on a mission. She prayed inwardly that she wasn't going to make a mockery of herself. She caught her breath, grabbed her clutch and gave her reflection in the mirror a once-over before leaving the bedroom. 

She lived alone. No roommate, no friends, no boyfriend, nothing. Just her. This was the life her mother thought was ideal. 

She was going to sleep with the prince in order to get his semen. The thought alone gave her the creeps. She shook her head as if that would shake off the cringe worthy thoughts.

As she parked in the parking lot, she took a long look around. The royal fashion house, Price And Prize, was a massive fortress. Too bad, her mother was hellbent on destroying everything that mattered to Price And Prize. 

She secured her key in the lock of her car before walking briskly into the building complex. If it were to be under normal circumstances, perhaps she would have taken her time to explore the building complex. But she needed to focus on the very important things. It was likely that she would spend months working for the prince.

Her walking gait oozed confidence, but her inner strength was wavering. She was walking into dangerous territory, and she wasn't sure if she would make it out alive. 

She had no clue as to what to say to the prince for the first time. He surely didn't know her. What if he hated her at first sight? She wouldn't run back to her mother to cry to her that the prince hated her. Her sisters would laugh at her. 

Her mother was trusting her to eliminate every possible chance of the prince recovering from the curse. All she had to do was seduce him, get him to bed her and that would be the end. The only problem was the prince himself. He was cursed never to love any woman till he died. He wouldn't be able to find a mate if his heart could never love. He would never be able to reinforce a pack if he couldn't find a mate. Why was her mother bothered anyway? The prince would never be able to lift the curse.

She knew this because there were no more magicians in Romania. Her mother had told her the gruesome story herself. The King of Havana had seen to it that all the Gypsies from the Mondes breed were either sent on exile, imprisoned or executed.

If her mother was trusting her to avenge the grotesque massacre of the Mondes breed, then it meant her mother was only striving to prevent a repeat of history. 

What if all of this was wrong? If she succeeded with her mother's plan, history would never forgive her. If she failed to carry out her plan successfully before the prince lifted the curse, she would be discovered and brought to public shame. That would be the end of her.

She would never recover from the shame, disappointment and breach of trust. The royal family would probably hang her up a stake and burn her alive. Burn. Her. Alive. Goosebumps coursed through her skin as she ascended the stairs that led to the VIP lounge of the building complex. 

The tremor that shot through her spine as a result of the deadly implication of being discovered sent her knees wobbling. Her steps on the stairs faltered and she bent forward, heading face first to the ground above the stairs. She was already bracing herself for the impact when sturdy arms reached out to grab her by her middle.

She lifted her eyes to rest them on a pair of velvet shoes. She felt herself being straightened up. She staggered a little, and her arms clung to his biceps for support. Her body was plastered against his massive chest that could as well be a rock. Where he was large and bulky, she looked like a fat toddler in his arms.

Knowing fully well she had to look at the messiah in the eyes to thank him for helping her, she looked up at him. She suddenly wished she hadn't. Blue ocean eyes stared back down into her own emerald green ones. 

No man had the right to look that handsome. His perfectly chiseled face, which was further accentuated by his set jawline was something Esmeralda would die for. His wavy black hair dropped against his forehead. Esmeralda would give anything to run her fingers through his hair. 

"Well?" He asked, obviously not impressed with the way she was clinging to his arm. Infact, he wasn't looking so happy to have caught her from falling. He looked like he  regretted rescuing her.

She caught a whiff of his cologne and she started to feel heady, as if she was drunk. This wasn't exactly how she had planned her first day of work to start with. She was in the arms of a man who had saved her from falling and landing face first on the stairs. Just how bad could it get?