The Rich Life

1

PROLOGUE:

This was the biggest fashion show of the year. Everyone who was famous or had connections to wealth was here. Which would help boost my campaign to become Mayor of London. The more influence I had on my side, the better. I gazed aimlessly at the models who were wearing the familiar designs of Versace, Gucci, Burberry. They were all so colourful and flashing with so many jewels that it made my eyes hurt. It was like looking at a bunch of peacocks. I turned around and I was assaulted by the bright flashes of cameras. If I wasn't fucking blind before, I definitely was now.

Paparazzi are brutal when it comes to meeting the new and upcoming fame. They pounced on me like lions attacking me with questions. I gave a signal for a few people from my entourage to come and stay by my side. It was the usual questions.

"Amara Khan, how does it feel to be the first female lawyer to achieve a billionaire status?"

"Is it true that you are dating one of the male supermodels in this show?"

It made my head pound as I smiled sweetly, feeling hollow and disgusted at myself for bringing myself here, all the way to Milan just for myself to be made a part of the media circus. I could be doing better things in England like visiting hospitals. God knows what they'll be cooking up in those damned magazines. Tomorrow morning I could wake up to a headline screaming "Amara Khan's New Toyboy"

But there was one question that stuck out to me. As soon as I heard the reporter scream it, my entire expression changed.

"Amara! How will you react to seeing your ex-fiance, Adam Dervishi, here?" He screamed. I blinked confused. Adam was here? Fuck. How? What? And why? I pursed my lips, pretending to ignore them. I prayed that my teeth wouldn't be stained with cherry red lipstick. I managed to rework my expression back into a smile, picture-perfect and completely fake. I excused myself and they parted for me to go through, with my bodyguards following suit. A few chased after me until they found something else to prey on. Maybe a singer?

I managed to get away from the hustle and bustle of certain areas and went to a quieter area. I sighed rubbing my temples. Amara, don't you dare fucking cry. What if the paps saw you? I blinked back the sudden tears in my eyes. I'm overreacting, This is the largest event, Adam won't be able to find me amongst all of this glamour.

As usual, I was completely and utterly wrong. Today was not my day. As I looked up, ready to go back into the main area, Adam Dervishi came into MY little area. Even without all that TV coverage or a new playboy bunny hanging off his arm, I'd still be able to recognise him. He acted all nonchalant as he talked to another man, laughing heartily with him. I tried creeping away from them, trying not to meet his eyes.

That failed miserably. Once I caught an eye on his suit, I was pulled back into his seductive charm again. His black suit wasn't from a department store. It was definitely from a prestigious Italian brand. His shoes were gleaming, unmarked and unscuffed. His white shirt was crisp and white and his jacket showed off his broad shoulders. He managed to make the whole outfit look so dangerous and gorgeous that I started staring. The worse thing I could possibly do.

This gave him an excuse to break off the conversation with the man and greet me. I tried making a beeline to the toilets. But Adam caught me before I could even get out of his sight. He grabbed my arm and I felt a wave of electricity rush through me. Then he grinned, filled with the warmth I remember from when we were alone, not the one where he was on recently on Ellen with the freezing coldness of his smile. The years suddenly melted away like butter. Then I remembered the actual reality and the sharp shards of happiness stabbed me in the chest.