Heartless

Another day

"Bonsoir Père." He spoke into the phone.

He heard his father take a deep breath on the other side of the phone.

"It's two a.m. Pierce. Where are you?" His father asked him in a controlled cold voice. Peirce knew his father wasn't worried about where he was but wanted him for something. How he knew Peirce was not home, now that was intriguing.

"Do you need something Père?" He asked his father.

"The Italian group is coming tomorrow and I want you to receive them and represent our company. After you are done, go and see your mother. She has been wanting to see you for quite some time. Understood Mon Garçon?" His father asked him though it was not a question but a challenge a dare.

He might have protested but he was too tired so he merely said. "Qui. Au revoir." He shut off his phone and walked towards where the yacht's entrance was. The yacht was going to dock in a few moments and he wanted to be home.

If he was meeting the Italian group, he wanted to be prepared and ready which he was not. He was tired and needed sleep.

He leaned against the wall on one side and closed his eyes.

-------------------------------------

It had been two days since her attempted suicide and she still couldn't get over the male who had saved her that day. She was still unaware of her saviour's identity.

Whoever it had been though, he had been kind to her. Kinder than anyone else in her life. She closed her eyes as she laid on her soft crème coloured sheets with her red comforter that felt like a soft and warm cloud on top of her. The room was decorated with red, crème, half white and crimson colours.

One of the walls was made completely of glass and gave a view of the rose garden below. A door led to her huge walk in closet and another led to her bathroom. Soft music played from her speakers as she thought about the mysterious man

She remembered his warmth and the scent of musk and some kind of spice. The way he had a soft, very faint French accent.

The way his parting words had sounded so sensual and soft. The way he had held her in his arms, so carefully and gently.

She smiled at the memory and opened her eyes to face harsh reality.

Today she had to present her new clothing line for her summer designs. She also needed to finalize her own dress for the charity ball happening at the Delacroix's mansion.

She needed to meet her parents for dinner tonight and she needed to finalize her engagement planning.

Engagement. The word sounded absurd even in her head. She was getting engaged to Allister Zubin, the playboy extraordinaire.

He, who claimed to be in love with another model and was only agreeing to marry her because their marriage was a sham. A merging of her parents' company with that of his own parents.

Their marriage was going to be nothing more than a piece of paper and two strangers living together.

Allister who had told her she was nothing more than another useless women trying to think she was important when all she did was glorified stitching and sewing.

She didn't care what he said about her but her profession was something she took very seriously. She had hater him since then and he didn't particularly care for her favour.

Fiore wondered why she was even doing this. She was doing it for her parents yes, but why?

Her parents didn't love her. Granted they had provided her with everything but their love and affection. She had received the best of everything, clothes, food, education you name it. But she was never a daughter to them. She was always like a little pet or a decoration piece of the house.

They hadn't even cared when she had moved out of their house. They hadn't cared when she had started her job.

They certainly had cared though, when she became a famous and rich designer and created a name for herself.

That was when they decided that they wanted her to get married to a person of equal social standing and who better than the rich and notoriously though but still famous Allister Zubin.

Fiore rose from her bed and walked towards her bathroom. She needed to start getting ready. She would take one step at a time.

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