The last time Kimberly Owens stood in New York, she was barefoot, pregnant and bleeding from the heart.
Now, six years later, her heels clicked confidently, echoing across the floors of the Harrington Elite Modeling Agency, though her pulse betrayed her.
But the name of the Agency alone sent a thrill of excitement through her veins. This was it — the fresh start she desperately needed.
She had been nervous since the morning, worried about how the interview would go. But no matter the outcome, she was ready. She was there, and there was no going back.
She straightened her blazer, took a deep breath, and walked in, where a well-dressed receptionist greeted her with a kind smile.
"Good morning, ma'am. You're here for the modeling audition, correct?" The receptionist's voice was pleasant and welcoming.
"Yes," Kimberly replied, her voice steady despite the slight nervousness in her stomach.
"Perfect. Please take the second lift to the 15th floor, and join the others. The interview will be conducted by Mr. Harrington himself," the receptionist lady told her.
Kimberly nodded and made her way to the elevator, feeling an odd shiver at the mention of Mr. Harrington's name, though she couldn't understand why she felt that way.
The elevator ride stretched in silence, the number display blinking slowly. Her reflection stared back at her from the mirrored doors — nervous eyes, flawless makeup, a woman who had come too far to fall apart now.
When the doors slid open, Kimberly stepped into chaos.
The 15th floor was filled with excitement. Dozens of women — tall, beautiful, styled to perfection, occupied every inch of the waiting hall. Some practiced walks, others whispered, and many just cast glances her way as she entered.
Kimberly swallowed hard but stood taller and confident. She knew the way they looked at newcomers. But even though she was a newcomer to Harrington Modeling Agency, she actually wasn't a newbie to modeling. She had been on runways before. She just hadn't done it for over seven years now.
She straightened her shoulders, trying to shake the unease.
Taking a deep breath, Kimberly looked to her left and found an empty seat near the back, clutching her portfolio tightly in her lap as she strode toward the seat and sat down gently.
A sharp clap suddenly echoed through the hall the moment she was seated, silencing the chatter as a well-dressed assistant stepped to the front of the room, surveying the crowd with a no-nonsense expression.
"Alright, everyone. Settle down." His voice was authoritative, and everyone hushed as he began saying whatever he wanted to say to them. " Mr. Harrington will be here in the next few seconds. When he arrives, I expect professionalism. "You're all here to prove yourselves, so I suggest you be ready," the assistant instructed sternly, dusting off some invisible dirt from his shirt.
A murmur of anticipation rippled through the crowd after hearing that Mr. Bryce could arrive any moment from then. Some models began to adjust their postures, others fixed their hair. But Kimberly's heart pounded hard and loudly instead.
Yet she couldn't figure out why she was ridiculously feeling so nervous, even just mentioning Bryce's name made her nervous.
Why?!
A heavy silence fell over the room as all eyes suddenly turned toward the door at the far end of the hall.
Then, the door opened.
And in walked the man who would decide their fate.
His footsteps echoed against the classic stone surfaces, steady and authoritative, exuding power and wealth. His cologne lingered in the air, rich and intoxicating, slipping into the lungs of everyone present.
Kimberly's breath hitched the moment she saw him. A strange, unexplainable shiver ran down her spine yet again.
This man — Bryce Harrington. That familiar cologne. It hadn't changed. It wrapped around her like a ghost from the past.
She felt something — an eerie familiarity. His sharp jawline, the way his tailored suite hugged his frame, the quiet storm in his eyes.
And then Bryce turned his gaze toward her side, and their eyes met.
The moment struck Kimberly like a tidal wave.
Her fingers clenched against her portfolio as her heart pounded wildly in her chest.
Flashes of that night, a night she had buried deep — came rushing back in fragments.
The stranger. The passion. The man she never wanted to see again after that night. No. She actually never even got to see what he looked like, and neither did she know what his name was.
The longer she stared at him, the more she saw her daughter in him. The striking resemblance, those same gray eyes, the same bone structure, and the way he stared back at her.
He couldn't be the one.....could he?
Across the room, Bryce's footsteps abruptly halted too, eyes fixed intensely on Kimberly. There was a flicker of something that crossed his face.... confusion? Recognition?
The room instantly faded. The voices, the whispers, the excitement — it all vanished into a charged silence.
It was just the two of them.
Staring.