Charlotte stood by her window, her fingers gently brushing the sheer white curtains that swayed with the soft morning breeze. The pale golden light of the early sun spilled into her room, casting a warm glow on her porcelain-like skin and making her vivid red eyes gleam like rubies. Her ginger hair, a cascade of fiery curls, framed her sharp yet delicate features. Today wasn't just any day. Today, Sebastian Ellington was going to meet David Rosewood.
She felt her heart pounding like war drums in her chest. Her palms were cold, despite the warmth in the air. She had planned everything to perfection—every detail, every move, every word. And yet, she couldn't help but worry. One misstep from Sebastian could unravel it all.
She didn't trust him entirely. Not yet. But she had no other choice.
The sharp chime of her phone broke her spiraling thoughts. The screen lit up. Sebastian Ellington. She exhaled deeply and swiped to answer.
"Sebastian... are you ready?" Her voice trembled slightly, laced with anxiety. "You have to be ready. Please don't do anything that would jeopardize what we've built—what we're trying to accomplish."
Sebastian's voice came through the line, smooth and reassuring. "Yes, yes, Red... Relax. It's going to be fine. I'm Sebastian Ellington—he won't dare reject my offer. Still, there is a slim possibility that he might grow suspicious. For that reason, I think it would be best if you bought a burner phone. We need secure communication."
"Okay, okay," she replied, biting her lip. "I'll get one today. And... please, Sebastian, just—be composed in the meeting. We can't afford mistakes. Good luck. Please... don't mess it up."
There was a soft chuckle on the other end. "Red, you're more anxious than I am. But I get it. It's okay to be nervous. Just trust me. We'll get the collaboration. I have to go—it's nearly time for the meeting."
"Alright... I'll call you tomorrow. With the burner phone."
"Bye, Red."
The call ended, and Charlotte slowly lowered the phone from her ear. Her heart thudded violently as she stared at her reflection in the glass.
I really hope he doesn't mess things up.
---
Later that evening, Charlotte walked into a small electronics shop. Her red eyes darted across the shelves until she found a plain black burner phone. She paid in cash and left without saying a word. That night, she saved Sebastian's number under a cheeky alias: Bitch.
---
The next morning, the sunlight poured into her apartment in golden sheets. It was already noon. Charlotte sat cross-legged on her bed, the new phone in hand. Her ginger curls were loosely braided over her shoulder, and she wore a loose-fitting ivory sweater and black slacks. Her fingers hovered over the call button, then tapped it.
Ring. Ring. Click.
"Sebastian? How was it?" Her voice was laced with nervous energy, anticipation clinging to every syllable.
"Well..." came his reply.
"What? What is it? Did we get the collaboration? Tell me, Sebastian, please tell me we did!"
There was a long pause before Sebastian finally responded, his tone casual, almost teasing.
"We got it. David has agreed. And we'll be announcing it today—6 PM sharp."
A sound of pure relief escaped Charlotte's lips. She clutched the burner phone tightly.
"THANK YOU SO MUCH, SEBASTIAN! BECAUSE OF YOU, WE'VE MOVED A STEP CLOSER TO OUR PLAN." Her voice was loud with triumph, joy breaking through her usual tension.
A slight pause. Then, Sebastian's voice, a little softer.
"Well... if you're really that thankful... would you consider a dinner? Or maybe a coffee? Or a movie? Your choice, Red."
Charlotte's lips curled into a hesitant smile. "I... I don't know. Okay. I'll give you one chance for a date—if we succeed in the final part of the plan."
"I'll make you the owner of Winemaker, Red. Trust me."
She glanced at the clock. 5:30 PM.
"It's already 5:30... I should go. Bye, Sebastian."
"Bye, Red."
She ended the call.
He's... charming. But I CAN'T fall for him. Never. He deserves someone better than me.
She pulled out her phone and opened the news channel. 6 PM was ticking closer.
The moment the clock struck 6, the news headline blazed across the screen: "WINEMAKER ANNOUNCES COLLABORATION WITH ELLINGTON."
Charlotte's heart pounded. Excitement bubbled in her chest.
David Rosewood appeared on the screen, all smiles, standing in a luxurious press room with glistening chandeliers and velvet drapes. He was tall, his blonde hair gelled to perfection, black eyes sharp with calculated charisma. He wore a sleek navy blue tuxedo that matched the regal aesthetic of the event. Beside him stood Sebastian—tall, confident, in a jet-black tailored suit, his blonde hair swept back, green eyes sparkling under the lights.
David spoke with grace, announcing the upcoming wine launch, scheduled for the 30th of March—just a day after tomorrow.
Charlotte's eyes narrowed.
Why so soon? That's suspicious.
---
March 30th – The Day of the Launch Event
The Winemaker-Ellington launch event was the epitome of luxury and influence. Held at the Grand Seraphim Estate, the venue was an architectural marvel—golden chandeliers dangled from high vaulted ceilings, and crystal fountains lined the entrance. Soft violin music played in the background, weaving through the crowd of high-profile guests: food critics, government officials, celebrities, and billionaires in designer suits and glittering gowns.
Charlotte arrived in a floor-length crimson dress, which hugged her figure like silk. Her ginger curls were tied in an elegant chignon, a few strands framing her face. Her red eyes sparkled beneath subtly done makeup. Her presence alone turned heads—powerful, poised, and unforgettable.
Sebastian stood at the podium with David beside him. The latter smiled with that same polished charm, wearing a grey velvet suit with obsidian cufflinks. But Sebastian's demeanor was different. Calm. Calculated. Confident in a way that unnerved even those closest to him.
David gave the opening speech, boasting about the collaboration, praising the fusion of tradition and innovation, and making grand claims about the future of luxury wine. The crowd applauded.
Then, it was Sebastian's turn.
He stepped forward slowly, cleared his throat, and adjusted the microphone.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he began, his voice carrying the weight of gravitas, "today marks a historic moment for the wine industry. But before we raise our glasses to this union... there's something you must know."
The crowd murmured.
Charlotte, seated in the front row, froze.
Sebastian continued, "When I entered into talks with Mr. Rosewood, I believed—as many of you did—that Winemaker was a name built on prestige and integrity. But recent investigations conducted by my team revealed something alarming. The wine presented by Winemaker... is not what it claims to be."
Gasps. Whispers. Cameras clicked furiously.
"I couldn't, in good conscience, allow this collaboration to continue without disclosing the truth. Lab reports, expert testimonies, and insider accounts all confirm that Winemaker has been selling substandard, even harmful, wine under the guise of quality."
David turned pale. "Sebastian, what are you—"
Sebastian silenced him with a raised hand.
"I didn't know, David. But once I found out—I had to act. People deserve honesty. And I won't associate the Ellington name with deception. From today, the collaboration is off. And legal proceedings will follow."
The crowd erupted. Media swarmed. Security moved toward David as he stumbled backward, his composure shattered.
Charlotte watched in stunned silence. She had never expected him to blow it up so... publicly. And yet, a strange pride filled her chest.
Sebastian had done it. And he did it for the people.
.