CHAPTER 09

"Oh my gosh, Cynthia, you have a hidden talent. See how good I look!" Irish gushed and turned from the mirror to hug Cynthia.

Cynthia had stayed back from the pack run, making Irish feel the warmth of company and beautifying her for the ball.

Cynthia stared at Irish with a satisfied grin on her lips, then she gently spun the young lady around like the male would do in a typical ball.

Her gown, made of satin, was snatched at the waist, making the cleavages show a little more than they should.

Her purple gloves shined with sparkling stones.

Irish took a step forward while admiring herself. Her shoes were hidden in the tea-length dress, yet, when she made a step, they shone as bright as the stars in the sky.

"You look so good." Cynthia admired, "Go enjoy yourself tonight."

"Thanks, and I'm on my way," Irish said excitedly as she began walking away through a door she didn't know was in the room.

Irish was about to keep moving when Cynthia grabbed her shoulders, stopping her. "Remember you have to come back here on time. And if you're caught. None of it was my fault." Cynthia said sternly and then opened the door and gently shoved her out.

A gust of fresh air blew past her hair, making the wavy curls go backward.

Irish stopped for a moment and sucked in a deep breath of fresh air, her lips, slightly parted. She could smell freedom. The freedom she craved so badly. The nineteen-year-old Irish craved to lead a normal life, complete high school, and get a career.

Her actions from right then would determine that. She couldn't escape at the moment because everywhere still looked so strange to her.

Irish flagged down a cab and entered. "Alpha King Industries." She told the cab man, then leaned on the car window.

She waited patiently, allowing the air to caress her made-up face.

On getting there, Irish passed a few dollar bills to the driver. She didn't know how much he charged, but from the smile on his face and the way he said, "Thanks," Irish knew that she might have overpaid.

Despite that it was night, the paparazzi swarmed the building with their flashlights. Expensive cars were packed almost everywhere.

Irish thanked her stars that she had taken a cab here, or she would have looked odd.

Irish stood before the skyscraper, as her eyes settled on the bold lighted inscription on the building. It read ALPHA KING INDUSTRIES. Her mind went back to the time, when she was in here, being dragged by the wolf guards, she remembered those tears she shed when she discovered that her father had sold her off.

A tear slid down her right cheek but she was quick to wipe it off and heaved a heavy breath.

She could remember those nights she would fall asleep, praying to the Moon goddess that her father got employed here since it was said that everyone who worked in this place got rich with just one pay cheque. But guess her father rewarded her prayers with what he did.

She walked up to the entrance door, but as she was about to enter, a muscular-looking man put out his hand, resisting her.

"Do you have an invitation?"

Irish smiled boldly. Cynthia had given her one, so she fished out an invitation card from her handbag.

"Here, can I go in now?" Irish gave it to him. She watched the man suspiciously stare at her, then at the card.

He nodded and then gave it back to her.

"26th floor." He frowned harder as he talked.

'Are they really trained to be this hard on people?'

Irish took her invitation and began walking in.

Irish got into the elevator and when it was time, the door made a ding sound and stopped right on the 26th floor.

She stepped out of the elevator, and at that moment she was wowed at the sight in front of her.

The room was filled with decorations of different designs, intricately woven to make beautiful eye-catching scenery. Exotic lamp holders had not too bright light of different colors.

The chandeliers were made of silver and precious gemstones. Everything there screamed opulence and sophistication.

The people sat before decorated tables, also, talking gently with wine glasses in their hands, while an orchestra played in the background.

"Now, let's welcome, the owner of Alpha King Industries to make a speech, a round of applau...." Before the Mc could finish talking, there was already a standing ovation and the hall echoed with sounds of clapping, a look of admiration on their faces.

"Hello, ladies and gentlemen. Alpha King Industries was built to incorporate all sectors of the economy, and I could not have gotten this far without your teamed efforts." Another round of applause.

"So far, we have gotten the medical sector, the educational sector, and all other business sectors to submit to this esteemed institution. Trust it. We are topping the charts." Another round of applause.

Irish looked around the matrix. The fooled crowd. They were nodding at each word their Alpha said. His words were law.

They didn't know or care about a young girl whose dream was crashed, whose future was blurred, just to serve the supreme like Adrian and give him an heir.

Then, like someone insane, she stood up. Perhaps at this time, she was really insane because she didn't care.

A spare microphone was lying right beside Adrian. Perhaps, they desired his voice so much that they left a spare mic so they could hear all he had to say. While people like her wallowed in the empty void of silence.

With a ghostly, cruel smirk playing out on Irish's lips, she began walking upstage.

She didn't care about the camera poised at her. Like a weapon, she was only determined to destroy the image of this very man, Adrian.

She grabbed the microphone and placed it under her chin, close to her lips.

The expression on Adrian's face was priceless.

Somehow, Irish's eyes found Ashley's face in the crowd. Then she beamed.

Why did their eyes seem like they would fall out of those sockets soon?

"Hello. Everyone. I am Irish..." A dangerous glint flashed across her eyes.