Aegis Core

The Midnight Temptation

I sipped on my champagne, admiring my reflection in the mirror of my van. I was about to enter the biggest event of my entire career: the French Exhibition. This was the place where the most powerful and dominating individuals gathered, ready to judge and ruin anyone's career in the blink of an eye, like kangaroos ready to pounce. This was my eighth time at the exhibit, yet the thrill never faded.

I took a moment to calm myself, looking over my outfit. I was wearing a sleek black co-ord set with a corset that wrapped around my waist like a koala clinging to a tree, making me feel drop-dead gorgeous. I could just fuck myself right now.

“Fuck you, bitch,” I whispered to my reflection, an amused smirk playing on my lips.

“Miss Volkov, we are ready. The areas are blocked, and you can go for the exhibit,” my assistant called out from outside the van.

I simply responded with a nonchalant, “Hmmmm,” as I stepped out into the night, letting the cool air brush against my skin.

As I entered the exhibit, the atmosphere enveloped me like a thick, intoxicating fog. The grand hall was a masterpiece in itself, with high ceilings adorned with intricate moldings and an opulent chandelier that sparkled like a constellation above. Guests mingled in tailored suits and glamorous gowns, their laughter ringing out like music amidst the backdrop of stunning artwork.

I navigated through the crowd, my heels echoing against the polished marble floor. My presence commanded attention, and I could feel eyes on me, a mix of admiration and envy swirling in the air. I had worked hard to earn my place among these elite, and tonight, I was determined to make an impact.

As I passed by a particularly striking piece, I overheard two socialites whispering, their voices dripping with judgment. “Did you see her last collection? It’s so cliché.”

I couldn’t help but smirk. Let them talk. The art world was full of pretentious opinions, but they were nothing compared to the force I was about to unleash.

With each step, I felt more in control, the power surging through me. I was here to prove that I was not just another artist but a force of nature.

Suddenly, I spotted a group of potential buyers examining my latest collection in a corner of the gallery. My heart raced as I approached them, my confidence swelling. This was my moment.

“Good evening, everyone!” I announced, my voice cutting through their chatter. “I hope you’re finding my work as captivating as I find your wealth intriguing.”

The group turned, surprise evident on their faces. A sly smile crept across my lips as I watched their expressions shift from shock to curiosity.

“This piece here,” I said, gesturing toward a large canvas that dominated the wall, “is a reflection of society's darker undercurrents, painted with raw emotion and a touch of chaos.” I leaned in closer, lowering my voice conspiratorially. “It’s a reminder that beauty often resides in the shadows.”

One of the buyers, a well-known art critic, stepped forward, his eyes narrowed in skepticism. “And what makes you think this piece is worthy of our time and attention?”

I held his gaze, unflinching. “Because I’m not just presenting art; I’m offering an experience. You can’t judge a masterpiece based on its surface. It’s what lies beneath that counts.”

His expression shifted slightly, and I could see a flicker of interest in his eyes. I leaned back, satisfied. The night was still young, and I was just getting started.

The crowd around me began to draw in, intrigued by my confidence. I reveled in it, feeling the energy shift in my favor. This was my world, and I was ready to claim it.