Chapter 1

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RAELYNN
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People were noisily bustling in, women waltzing around in their well designed gowns, men dressed in dark shaded suits, lights shimmering, air enveloped with the odor of expensive wine and sounds of wealthy lies and I am ........ well, standing aloof, bored.

Dressed in a knee length black dress with an elegant piece of pearls adorning my neck, my wavy chestnut brown hair falling freely down my mid back, my eyes lined with a black tint, lips coated in a mild shade of maroon, I was standing in the humongous hall that was crowded with people from all sections of the elite - business, political, entertainment, sports and media.

Why am I here?

Good question.

"Ms. Baker, good evening, I've come to greet you as soon as I noticed you here.", an averagely tall, 50-something man, came walking towards me, a polite smile on his face.

"Good evening, Mr. Carl.", I nodded politely.

He's the chief editor of one of the most famous magazines in the country. He's neither good nor bad. Mostly does what's good for his magazine.

"I've seen the share price of your brand. It's escalating in a steady graph. I might ring you up for a cover interview this year.", he commented.

"Quite out of image for you, isn't it? Your magazine always puts people from established businesses or industries on the cover. To what do I owe such a lucrative proposal?", I asked, a courteous smile curving my lips.

He laughed lightly.

"You are one of the trending topics among the elites these days, Ms. Baker, you sure know, don't you?", he said.

"That's very flattering of you, Mr. Carl. But if it's coming from you, is it safe to assume I'm on good terms in the industry?", I asked.

"Being invited to this party itself proves you're already among the elites. Also, I've been hearing about the construction of your new factory. A big one, if I'm not wrong.", he commented, sipping his wine.

Digging news.

That's exactly what his profession is.

"I'm afraid it's not as big as the rumors say.", I replied politely.

"I'll take my leave then, Ms. Baker, I'll be looking forward to making a story on CLAY. Have a good evening.", he greeted and walked away to meet others.

CLAY.

The confectionery brand I had started three years ago, during the final semester of my college.

After escaping out of that hell 7 years ago, I managed to cite reasons for my gap in high school and requested for continuing my education.

I had to meet a lot of people, explain and cite various reasons, some legal procedures and some financial inheritances I received from my father's will, I was finally able to continue my education.

I worked extra hard and looking at my impressive grades, the school proposed a direct jump to the senior year, considering my age as well, and I readily accepted it.

It was a very tough year with all the sudden school work, part-time jobs, my psychological instability, the frequent nightmares, insomnia and deep rooted fear.

But, I fought, just as I had been doing all through my life since the day I was kidnapped at 16.

I was working part-time in a bakery during my college years, the owner of that bakery being an old man whose son had moved out to Paris for his job. When the owner grew too old to handle the bakery further, I offered to take up the small space on lease to open a confectionery of my own.

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