Page 13 of The Bratva's Secret Twins

It did help that the paycheck was also very fat.

A smile tugged at my lips as I recalled how Tyler was blown away after I’d gotten off the stage that evening; he was there in the crowd, even though I hadn’t seen him. I hadn’t seen anyone, really—save for the brown-eyed, arrogant man who had thought I was like the other girls who’d fall into his bed….

Not that I would mind sharing a bed with him.

Anyway, where was I? Right. Tyler. He’d found me later, and we’d jumped up and down excitedly as he told me I would be swamped with modeling gigs now.

I was caught up in the moment and basked in its euphoria, but I knew it was a one-time thing, and my job there was done. I was a stand-in for a real model and nothing more.

At least, that was what I thought.

But my skepticism was short-lived. Tyler’s words came back to haunt me when I started receiving phone calls from modeling agencies, one after another.

I had dismissed his prediction as mere encouragement, but it seemed he had been spot on. The calls came in, each offering me a spot with their agency. I was taken aback by the sudden interest, my mind reeling with possibilities. Had I underestimated myself? Was I truly cut out for this modeling thing? The doubts lingered, and confusion soon settled in.

The modeling offers were lucrative, far surpassing my current salary. If I took a chance on this new path, I could save up enough money to fund my college dreams much faster. The prospect of achieving my goal sooner rather than later was tantalizing, and the temptation to take the leap grew stronger.

I needed time to think about this new chapter in my life because I knew that this wasn’t something that I could rush into. I would need to put so many factors into consideration first.

My phone rang again, and I glanced at my lit screen. It was an unknown number—again. Deep down, I knew it was probably just another company calling to offer me a spot with them. It would be the seventh one today.

I heaved a sigh and answered. “Hello?”

“Hi,” a masculine voice spoke from the other line. “Is this Ms. Vivian Kennedy?”

“Yes, it is,” I replied. “And who am I talking to?”

“My name is Cater James from NLT,” he introduced himself.

My eyes widened in astonishment at the name NLT. The renowned modeling agency’s reputation preceded them, and I couldn’t believe they were interested in me. It all seemed surreal, like a dream I couldn’t wake up from. It was funny how, overnight, I went from obscurity to being courted by some of the industry’s top players. This was a huge one, an opportunity that sent shivers down my spine, plaguing me with both thrill and terror. It was a whole new ball game, and I wasn't sure that I was ready to play.

“My company needs great models like you, and we’re more than willing to sign you. You’ve got some potential that makes you unique, and the agency wants to help you grow in your career,” he explained to me.

I was quiet, massaging my temples as my mind cycled through a million and one thoughts, all at the same time.

“Look, I know that you might have other offers, but I can guarantee you that our agency will double the price of whatever our competitors are offering. We know a star when we see one, and you, Ms. Kennedy, are a star that we’d love to help shine,” he concluded, waiting for me to speak.

I was too stunned to respond, my mind reeling from the unexpected offer. His persuasive words hung in the air, tempting me with promises of fame and fortune. But I needed time to think, to process why NLT was willing to go all out for a newcomer like me. What did they see in me that I didn’t? Why double the pay? I was a rookie, a mere blip on the modeling radar. My skepticism warred with the thrill of possibility, leaving me speechless and searching for answers.

I didn’t know what it was, but something about him seemed too desperate. I was afraid of the outcome because if it turned out that he was telling the truth and I eventually got hired, my life would change for good. I wasn’t ready for that just yet.

While these offers were enticing and promising, I still remained hesitant. The lure of easy money for college was strong, but I was afraid that I would lose sight of my true aspirations. Modeling wasn’t my passion, and working as a saleswoman for Solenoir was only a means to an end. If I succumbed to glamor and prestige, if I signed the contract, I’d risk abandoning my dream to study finance.

Tyler never saw this as a problem. He always used to say that modeling was something that I was meant to do. He hated that I was ‘wasting’ my time serving as a saleswoman, even though it was for a prestigious brand.

I let out a sigh. “Can I get back to you?” I asked him. “I’ll need some time to think about your offer, if that’s okay with you.”

“Sure,” he replied. “Take your time. But know this: Our agency rarely reaches out to models, only those we consider exceptional.”

Exceptional? Wow!

“I appreciate that.”

“Enjoy the rest of your day, Ms. Kennedy.” He ended the call.

I set my phone on the table and buried my face in my palms, thinking about what to do next. I really needed the money and couldn’t care less about fame and a glamorous lifestyle. I’d tasted it, and I loved it, but it wasn’t my priority at the time. So, what if I accepted one of these offers?

My reluctance to embrace the industry stemmed from the mere fact that the industry was a scary place. I’d heard rumors about the dark side attached to the modeling business, the creepy and perverse things that some of those beautiful models went through just to land a gig. At first, I’d found it hard to believe until I heard from a friend’s friend a few years back.

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