The briefcase popped open, revealing stacks of neatly bundled cash. Claire gasped, her eyes widening in disbelief.
She reached out and touched the money, half expecting it to vanish like a mirage. But it was all real. There had to be about hundred thousand dollars in cash in there. “Just for a meeting?” She thought to herself, still in shock. Tears of relief filled her eyes as she realized her immediate financial problems were solved. She quickly counted out enough bills to pay Mr. Jacobs , still expecting to wake up from a dream or something. Then she put the rest back into the briefcase. As she closed the lid, her phone buzzed on the bedside table, confirming the present reality. It was a text from the director, Craig. It simply read, “Last day of shooting. You’re late.” “Shit,” Claire muttered under her breath, her heart racing still, following the newfound sense of relief. She quickly got dressed, grabbed her bag, and tucked the briefcase back into the closet. Conflicted thoughts clouded Claire’s mind on the cab ride to the set. Claire couldn't shake the feeling of indebtedness and pressure to accept Luke's proposal. "That's probably what he wanted, sneaky bastard," she thought, with a hint of admiration mingled with suspicion. Would she be able to handle the complexities of this new arrangement? Could she trust Luke? The money in the bag was a concrete reminder of the stakes involved, making the offer both appealing and terrifying. Arriving at the set, Claire pushed aside all her thoughts and worries and focused on the shooting at hand. She gave her all and produced an outstanding performance, impressing everyone present on set. After the final scene was wrapped and the show's filming concluded, Claire sought out Craig, her director. With the day's work behind them, she found him reviewing notes in his chair. "Craig, a minute?" she asked softly as she stepped into his office. "Sure sure, have a seat please," Craig replied, gesturing at the chair opposite him, a concerned look on his face. After Claire had sat down, she took a deep breath and began “So, about yesterday-“ “Yes Claire, I’m so sorry for putting you in such a position. It could’ve been really dangerous for you,” Craig immediately cut her off, as if he had been rehearsing for the conversation. “No no it’s fine,” Claire quickly clarified. “Just that,” now leaning forward and in a serious tone, she recounted the strange events of the previous night—the meeting with Luke, the briefcase full of cash, and the proposition that came with it. “I’m a bit nervous about the whole thing. It just… it just feels ominous, you know?” Craig listened intently, then leaned back in his chair. "Claire, in this industry, you just have to follow your gut. If something feels off, it probably is. But if it feels like an opportunity, then maybe it's worth taking a chance." His words lingered in her mind as she found Anton after their conversation. She pulled him aside and explained everything in detail, hoping for his perspective. Anton frowned, clearly concerned. "Claire, this sounds sketchy. A briefcase full of cash? A mysterious proposal? I mean, you’re an amazing actress, but from the way you describe this guy, he could’ve gotten Jennifer Lawrence if he wanted. It just screams trouble to me. I'd be really careful if I were you." “I don’t know, maybe he doesn’t want someone very famous that could easily get recognized,” Claire said in desperate defense. Anton turned to Claire and pulled her in for a warm hug, immediately soothing her. She felt a weird sensation go through her body. She cleared her throat as he let go. Holding her by her shoulders, he said sincerely, “I believe whatever the situation may be, you’re gonna go great. Just make sure you stay alert always. And also, Arabian?? Girl you’re in for some trouble!” And with that, they both burst into laughter. Claire cherished how Anton always managed to make her laugh, even when she was troubled. “Come on, why don’t you come back home with me?” Claire said, trying to sound as casual as possible. “You could help me pack and also figure out exactly how I’m gonna go about this. I need to be Arabian in two weeks!” “Sure, as you wish Amira!” Anton replied with a bow and they both burst into laughter again. Back at Claire’s apartment, they both chatted as they reminisced about past movies and the memories attached to them. And soon, it grew silent. It was evening and it was getting dark. The small space seemed to amplify every movement, every breath. Claire began packing her essentials, her mind racing with thoughts of the unknown future. Anton stood by, watching her, his eyes filled with concern and something else— something that added a layer of tension to the room. As she moved around, Claire brushed past Anton, her skin tingling at the contact. The air between them grew heavier, laden with the unresolved feelings they had always kept unspoken. Claire's heart pounded as she handed Anton the briefcase. “I need you to help me take the money to my family. My dad would really need it for his treatment.” “Sure thing, I got you,” Anton replied as he grabbed the briefcase. “Thank you for doing this,” she said softly, her eyes locking with his. The intensity in his gaze made her shiver within. "Claire, you know I'd do anything for you," Anton replied, his voice low and earnest. He stepped closer, the space between them shrinking, the air crackling with electricity. She stood fixed, looking up at him, their faces inches apart. The room seemed to hold its breath. "Claire," Anton whispered, his voice husky, "are you sure about this? About everything?" She could see the worry in his eyes, but also a deeper longing. "I am," she replied, her voice barely audible. "I have never been more sure about anything.""Claire," Anton whispered, his voice husky, "are you sure about this? About everything?" She could see the worry in his eyes, but also a deeper longing. "I am," she replied, her voice barely audible. "I have never been more sure about anything." That served as the final confirmation needed. Anton closed the space between them, his fingers gently brushing her cheek before pulling her into a tender, lingering kiss. Soon, the kiss deepened, becoming more intense as years of pent-up tension flooded out. Anton pulled away suddenly, his breath heavy and eyes locked with hers. “Ant,” Claire said in a quivering voice, unsure of what he was about to do. Slowly, Anton began taking off his shirt, his eyes never leaving hers. Claire's heart pounded in her chest as she watched. As the fabric slipped away, it revealed a carved torso, every muscle defined and firm under the dim light. His skin was smooth and bronzed from the sun, and a faint trail of hair ran down his chest to the waistlin
Claire awoke the next morning to the soft light filtering through the curtains. She reached out lazily, expecting to feel her phone beside her; which she did. She picked it up and checked the time.7:28 A.M.She had barely slept, her mind buzzing with the tasks that lay ahead. The briefcase incident and Anton's betrayal were still fresh in her memory, but there was no time to dwell on them now. Today marked the beginning of her transformation.Claire looked around her new bedroom. It was the complete opposite of her old one. The room was enormous and magnificent, with ceilings so high, she felt she needed binoculars to see the top. The windows were massive, letting the golden sunlight pour through. The walls were painted a soft, creamy color and ornamented with exquisite artwork that reflected refinement and class.A king-sized bed, complete with a mountain of soft pillows. The dresser was so ornate it probably had its own backstory, covered with delicate perfume bottles and jewelry
“Ahlan (Hello).”“Ahlan (Hello).”“Very good! Let’s try the last one. Shukran (Thank you).”“Shukran (Thank you).”“Excellent! Oh my, you’re a natural.” Natalia remarked with a proud grin.Claire blushed softly at the compliment. “Thank you,” she replied contentedly.“You gotta understand, it’s not just about the words, it’s about embodying the essence of Arabian culture,” Natalia said instructively. Natalia’s lecture was interrupted the arrival of Janan, a stern looking lady with a kind smile. “Time for etiquette training, ladies,” she announced, leading them to a large ballroom. There was a flurry of activities in the beautiful adorned hall. The walls were covered with gold patterns that shimmered like a genie's treasure trove, while the chandeliers sparkled like diamonds in a Sultan's crown. The floor was polished to a shine, reflecting Claire's awestruck face like a mirror. She looked like a kid in a candy store, her eyes wide with wonder as she took in the grandeur.‘How big
Lucas stepped forward, the light catching the edges of his sharp features, making him look almost ethereal; a walking piece of art. “May I have this dance?” he asked her, his voice dripping with charm.Claire nodded, unable to shift her gaze from him. He moved closer, taking her hand gently in his. Everyone else in the room watched with increasing excitement.As they walked to the center of the room, Claire holding her abaya up with one hand, the world around them seemed to melt away, leaving them in a bubble of soft music and chemistry.Lucas placed one hand on her waist, drawing her closer, and they began to sway to the rhythm. Claire’s heartbeat pulsed with electrifying speed, nerves and excitement coursing through her.Lucas guided her through the steps with ease, as he whispered softly to her, the importance of each one.Was she paying attention? Of course not. How could she? The closeness of their bodies completely derailed her chain of thought.“Why do you keep explaining the
The hall, a few blocks away from the Benetti mansion, was incredibly luxurious and impressive, just like it. Golden chandeliers hung from the ceiling, shining brightly over the many elegantly dressed guests.The room was filled with the quiet sounds of people talking and the occasional clink of fancy glasses.Claire stood at the top of the long, white staircase, her heart beating out of her chest at the sight of all those people.She was dressed in a breathtaking white Arabian princess gown, rich with golden embroidery down the middle and delicate beadwork.The fancy fabric flowed around her like a river, and her hair was styled in a neat bun, decorated with shiny gold accessories that sparkled when she moved.Her makeup, expertly applied by Zarah, highlighted with kohl and added a bit of glamour to her already beautiful face.As she took a deep breath, Lucas appeared at her side, his presence calming her nerves. He looked dashing in a tailored tuxedo, his eyes dark and intense.He o
“You can’t get very far Sara!” The man chasing her screamed. Sara just kept running without looking back, like her life depended on it. It did. “Don’t make me shoot at you!” Sara ignored once more and kept running as the rain came down in torrents. Soon, she approached a dark alleyway which she immediately ran into, hoping to hide away from the keen hitman, or - dare she hope - completely neutralize him. She quickly buried herself behind some garbage bags and ceased all movements and sounds of any kind; except her hands which quivered uncontrollably. She clutched tightly to the necklace around her neck and prayed to every god there was and had ever been. The necklace she wore was what the hitman was sent to retrieve; the Heart of The Ocean necklace, worth 20 million dollars. The very same necklace worn by Kate Winslet in the blockbuster movie ‘Titanic’. Sara’s husband had purchased it at an auction for her for their second wedding anniversary. Apparently, he had al
As she exited the set, the evening air of Los Angeles, USA, felt cooler, so she tightened her coat over herself. Claire was stunning, with long, glossy dark hair framing a face of sculpted beauty. Her deep green eyes were mesmerizing, her full lips expressive. Her flawless skin and elegantly curvy figure spelt confidence and grace. Every movement was fluid, every glance captivating. The streets were quieter than usual, with only a few people and the occasional car passing by. Claire's thoughts returned to the director's statements, trying to wrap her head around them. Just as she turned a corner, a sleek black Rolls Royce came up beside her, its shiny surface shining in the streetlights. Right on cue. The back window rolled down smoothly, revealing the same hefty man she had seen earlier on set. His shiny sunglasses reflected the light, hiding his eyes but not his intentions. "Miss Claire," he said in a deep, calm voice. "Would you mind getting in? We have something for yo
But her response was in contrast to her thoughts. “Not like I had much of a choice,” she said, trying her hardest to hide the noticeable rudeness in her voice. “I sincerely apologize for my unusual method of approach. It just had to be this way.” He spoke in a manner that hit Claire in all the right places, and in a moment, he was standing directly in front of her. Claire was drenched. “That’s… that’s okay,” she said, much softer than she wanted, but still managing to keep her composure. “I’m Lucas. Lucas Benetti,” he said stretching his hand to hold hers. “Nice to meet you Mr Benetti,” she responded, gulping inaudibly and returning the handshake. “Please, Lucas is fine,” he corrected, with a subtle smile, as he walked back to the other side of the table. “I just want to know what I’m doing here,” Claire said, still unsteady. “I’m sure you do, we’ll get to that right away. Please, have a seat,” he said, gesturing to the chair on the opposite side. When they were s