Business Meeting.
💮Angel💮
"Angel!"
"Ms. Caribello!"
"How do you feel about your current situation?"
"Are you happy being Raul's mistress?"
"Did you take the role of Felicia to get close to Mr. D'Amano?"
"Do you love him, or are you just a slut? Answer us, ma'am!"
The paparazzi swarmed like vultures, their voices a noisy chorus as I pushed through the crowd outside the company building.
Their cameras flashed, blinding and relentless, each question a barb meant to draw blood.
Some grabbed at the hem of my long blazer, their fingers brushing the fabric, but I kept my chin high, ignoring their taunts.
Tristan and Bryan, my bodyguards, carved a path through the mob, their broad shoulders a shield against the frenzy.
Inside, the air-conditioned lobby offered a brief reprieve. The receptionist looked up, her smile professional but strained.
"Ms. Caribello," she greeted, and I nodded curtly, my heels clicking as she led me to the elevator.
The ride up felt like an eternity, my mind replaying the paparazzi's venom.
I entered the conference room, and the assembled team rose to greet me.
"Good afternoon, Ms. Caribello," they greeted in unison, their voices a mix of respect and curiosity.
Mrs. Ramon, the director, stepped forward, her smile warm but calculating.
I returned a curt nod and was ushered to my seat, the leather chair cool against my bare thighs beneath the blazer and skirt I'd chosen to match my defiant mood.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Ramon," I began, my voice steady, cutting through the room's expectant silence.
"I can't take a role in your new project. I don't plan to pursue acting as a career. The Black Week was an exception due to... personal circumstances. You'll need to find someone else."
Disappointment flickered across their faces, murmurs rippling through the room. Mrs. Ramon tilted her head, her eyes narrowing slightly.
"Is that so, Ms. Caribello?" she asked, her tone probing.
I sighed, leaning back in my chair, crossing my legs.
"I'm sorry if that dashes your hopes, Mrs. Ramon. But I can help. I'll provide a list of talented women who'd jump at this opportunity. You can hold auditions and choose the best fit."
Surprise and relief washed over their faces, the hopelessness easing.
"You'd do that, Ms. Caribello?" Mrs. Ramon's voice lifted, hopeful.
I flashed her a tight-lipped smile and nodded.
"It's no trouble. My assistant will email you the list by tomorrow."
"Thank you so much, Ms. Caribello," she said, her gratitude genuine.
I stood, smoothing my blazer, ready to leave, but her voice stopped me.
"Ms. Caribello, one moment. Can we make a proposal?"
I raised a brow, intrigued but wary, and leaned against the table, my fingers brushing the polished wood.
"Go on," I said, my tone cool, inviting her to speak.
She hesitated, then straightened, her voice firm.
"We'd like to propose that D'Amano Superior Production Company invest in our company. In return, we'll offer sixty percent of our shares."
I chuckled, shaking my head lightly, the sound sharp in the quiet room.
"Mrs. Ramon, with all due respect, D'Amano Superior can't invest in your company."
Her lips parted, shock pooling in her eyes. "W-why not?" she stammered, her composure slipping.
I leaned forward, my voice calm but cutting.
"Your company isn't financially stable, Mrs. Ramon. Most of your films flop at the box office. If we invested, we'd be pouring money into a sinking ship, and sixty percent of your shares wouldn't offset the loss. We'd be propping you up for crumbs. Think about it."
I paused, letting my words sink in, then offered another tight-lipped smile.
"If you'll excuse me, I have another meeting."
As I turned to leave, Mrs. Ramon's voice chased me.
"Ms. Caribello, please, reconsider! We could adjust the terms, maybe seventy percent—"
"No, Mrs. Ramon," I cut her off, glancing over my shoulder. "Business isn't charity. You know where to reach me if you have a better pitch."
I walked out, the door clicking shut behind me, my heels echoing down the hall. My heart thrummed—not with nerves, but with the steady rhythm of pride.
Somewhere in my gut, I knew Raul would be proud. The thought curled my lips into a quiet, satisfied smile.