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His Lavender Love

His Lavender Love

Adira Shay

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Ruelle Farrington was known for her professionalism that held a touch of kindness- for those who deserved it- but when it came to Azazel Vandeleur, even if she dug deep in her heart, all she found was hate; a wrath so frightening that at times left her in wonderment. Though, disguised amongst the fueling rage were petals; petals as in fragments of memories from the past she so wished to turn into nothingness. And if unsolved emotions were less, came in a silhouette of black that left Ruelle surrounded in a shell of paranoia. Now the question was, amidst lurking dangers and uncanny notes, sneaky glances and arrhythmic heartbeats, how much could possibly go wrong?

Chapter 1 01: Small Mishap

Ruelle~

Sometimes it leaves me in wonder how I make decisions only to regret over them in silence.

Public statements didn't unnerve me, though they did leave me on edge. The slightest bit of anxiety would sneak in when I'd lose control of my emotions and that small slip was something I did not like.

I had decided to publicly announce the opening of the 63rd branch of Ardor across the continent. If that wasn't enough, I had agreed to give a speech to show how elated I was about the news.

I was more than elated but there was no need for people who would entertain themselves on seeing me stumble on my own two feet know.

"My my, aren't you looking like the perfect catch in the single market?"

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I gave a bored look to my nana who swatted her hand in the air only gushing around me with words of utmost praises and prayers to get rid of any unwanted eyes.

"You say that every time."

To my monotonous words, she kissed my cheeks and patted my back. Her wrinkled hands were anything but frail and the white hair she harbored with pride would let anyone mistake her age for less than 65.

"Because you look like an angel."

I heard a faint snicker from somewhere behind me and glancing back at the mirror, I raised an eyebrow at my assistant who straightened on sensing my gaze and smiled sheepishly.

Angel.

It was a funny word.

If you look good, you're an angel.

But what was good?

That we may never really know.

"Ma'am, the event starts at ten. It'll be better if we leave now."

Giving a nod to Louis, I turned to the side to check myself one last time in the mirror. I did not like being coddled and touched, the reason why I opted to get ready on my own.

Owning a fashion brand with a skyrocketing reputation should surely give away enough of my fashion sense.

The black form-fitting gown made my light dusky skin sparkle, an added benefit of the diamonds embedded on a golden plate on the chest region. The leather belt around my waist divided the material from transparent to the translucent chiffon length of the dress that ended past my feet. A long slit showed a good inch of my left leg till my mid-thigh. Knee-high-heeled black boots balanced the feminine touch with a hint of my usual aura.

Nana had insisted that I put on the diamond studs that true to her words looked good enough. My fingers as usual were adorned with rings and my left wrist was covered with Fossil Jacqueline's latest watch.

I especially liked dressing up— to admire myself.

"Lead the way."

Louis gave an excited nod because, for some reason, such functions were his favorite part of being my secretary. What was so good about being surrounded by biting shadows and two-faced dolls was something I could not comprehend.

Nana walked ahead of me, talking animatedly with Louis who made sure to keep her entertained. A small smile touched my lips seeing their interaction. No matter how the world portrayed my small family circle, it didn't dull the love I have for them.

Nodding at my head of security, Jose, I got in the white-tinted Volvo. Nana got in from the other side while Louis sat in the passenger seat beside Jose.

Louis briefed me about the guests and the approximate paparazzi that were given entry to the venue. My experience with the media has left a mark that strengthened my resolve to keep them at arm's distance.

I respect every profession but when it came to the media, I wasn't ashamed to say that I was biased- all for legitimate reasons.

"Oh.."

The hesitant exclamation made me glance at Louis. His eyes were fixed on the iPad screen and long gone was the excitement. He resembled a nervous deer as he looked my way. Raising a stern eyebrow at him, I watched silently as he chuckled and cleared his throat, murmuring incoherent words to himself and successfully testing my patience.

"Louis."

My words were void of any emotion but he knew well enough what I implied.

"W-well, you see, there's a small mishap."

"Mishap?"

It was Nana who questioned him. My nonchalant gaze turned into narrowed slits when he wouldn't say anything else, simply staring helplessly at the iPad as though asking it to speak on his behalf.

With an irritated breath, I snatched the device from his hand to which he shrieked, caught off-guard by the action.

The screen showed the guests that were invited and with furrowed eyebrows I scrolled down the list, unable to find a fault until a certain name caught my attention.

My grip on the device turned from casual to agitated the more I stared at the name, hoping for it to disappear but it never did. Keeping it on my lap, my eyes found Louis who was now fumbling on his seat and I did not miss the discreet move he made towards the door handle.

"How?"

I saw Nana frowning at the edge in my tone. She took hold of the device to see what was wrong. It wasn't long before I heard her taking a deep breath.

"I-I don't know. I- I swear, I asked Melli-"

"I ordered you to make the list, not anyone else."

His eyes met mine for a split second and they were laden with guilt.

"I-I thought a l-little bit of help-"

"You-"

"Rue."

Taking in a harsh breath, I gave Nana a look which she returned with equal intensity. We shared more than a few traits and anyone who knew us knew well that the feistiness in my blood was a gift from my Nana.

"Louis, it's alright. Mistakes happen."

"It's not alright."

"Behave."

Gritting my teeth, I gave one last glare to my assistant who cowered in his seat, not meeting my eyes or glancing my way again throughout the drive. The hall was forty-five minutes away from the penthouse and when the car finally came to a halt, my previous giddiness to share the news had dissipated, instead, all I felt was unfurling fire pricking my skin.

"M-ma'am.."

The faint voice was accompanied by the opening of the car door by my side. Not sparing Louis a glimpse, I got out and tried my best not to flinch when the numerous snaps sounded from all around along with streams of questions I graciously ignored.

Not stopping to answer the desperate media persons, I stepped into the bustling hallway that at once stopped the minimal chatter and gave me all of its attention.

Numerous pairs of eyes were stuck on me as I walked in, giving a forced smile to anyone who offered me the same.

Ardor was the brand I built from the bottom, from the first top designs launched by the brand to the sales management, I had done it all through a small showroom much to my parent's dismay.

Farrington was a big name in the business world and to think I'd step up to make my own brand was something my parents never thought of. Nonetheless, they have been supportive to a far extent and it should be no surprise that my father was the first investor of Ardor, and seeing him, many followed.

What started as a hobby turned into a full-blown shop in a year. The number of shops kept increasing as time passed by and nearly three years and six months from then, here I was, announcing the 63rd showroom.

"Calm down!"

A smile threatened to spill on my lips at the familiar voice. The previous tension resting heavily on my shoulders lessened minimally the moment I caught sight of my overly excited-looking father and beside him was mama, looking ever so done with her husband.

If anyone caught sight of the Jarred Farrington with such a carefree attitude, they were sure to have a mini-attack. The hazel brown eyes that matched mine brightened considerably and ignoring all that Mama was saying, Dad took long strides toward me before pulling me in a long hug.

"Congratulations, little Rue. I'm so proud of you."

Alongside the genuine words, he kissed the side of my head and something suspicious to overwhelming moisture clouded my eyes for a second. Blinking away the unannounced flow of emotions, I gave a toothy smile to Dad who chuckled patting my head.

"Do remember that you have a mother too."

Peeking over Dad's shoulder, I gave a sheepish smile to my mother. Pulling away from Dad, I embraced Mama who laughed softly, repeating the words Dad had said with an equally proud smile.

Miralle Farrington is a neurosurgeon by profession. Growing up, it was tough adjusting to her busy schedule but when I did give it a thought, I realized just how much it took to balance her professional life with her personal one. She tried to give her family as much time of her day as she could and by the time it was dinner, even as a child I could spot the touches of fatigue showing clearly on her face.

"Oh stop with the melodrama already! We need a touch of the badass CEO the world talks about. Such a disgrace you all are."

Nana's disappointed voice broke the merry circle and Mama hugged her mother, earning a well-deserved smack on her back because she hadn't picked up her calls from two hours back.

"Ma'am..."

Louis's nervous voice sounded to my right and with a sigh, I spared the man from more of my temper even though the brewing anxiousness within my heart was becoming clear second after second.

"Hmm.."

"Shall we?"

He motioned towards the podium. Rubbing a hand down my dress, the smile that was a normal reaction to my family's presence was replaced by one I wore when addressing the business world.

"Shut them up, little Rue."

Dad whispered to me as a way of encouragement and quickly kissing his cheek, I silently beamed at him. The poker face Jarred Farrington was known for was in place as he took a seat at the back with the senior board of directors.

The hall fell silent the moment I tapped twice on the microphone. The voice was dull but not enough to not be heard. Everyone scattered around to take a seat and seeing once most of them were settled comfortably, I let another one of those magazine smiles pull on my lips.

"A Good evening would sound appropriate to start the speech with.

When Ardor was first established, I knew well in advance that the designs would not be disappointing but what did worry me was the extended support that comes from the world beyond. It is astonishing how fast the brand is growing and all the thanks belong to the many workers and helpers at Ardor who strive to get close to perfection with each passing day. It has been an embarking journey and what makes it immensely sweet is the unconditioned love and support."

The foundation of Ardor was not to pocket money since I have enough of it. What really was the idea behind the brand were eyes that love it for its authenticity and beauty and keeping that in mind, each dress was priced at affordable rates. Yes, some dresses came under the label 'ridiculously expensive' but those were the ones studded with the most minute details and hours of hard work from a good number of people.

Ardor didn't put a tag on the dress, rather it put a tag to appreciate the people behind the showpiece.

Designing a dress was not a piece of cake as many would like to believe. Creativity blocks and lack of motivation were too common in the field and there were times when it hindered progress for a long number of days.

But then again, the more time it took to craft a masterpiece, the lesser the chances of any errors.

"Tonight is the celebration of a brand new community added to Ardor. Here's to the 63rd Showroom of beauty right in the middle of Paris. Hope you enjoy the designs just as much as a morning view of the Eiffel Tower."

My words were met with a few chuckles and a loud round of applause. I didn't do well with curt speeches and so, the casualness in my tone was familiar to the world.

Stepping aside from the podium, I stopped for a minute to let the magazines get their best shot. A subtle smile, a neutral expression, and to add more personal touch to it, I gave a flying kiss to the camera, hearing a satisfying click the very moment.

My eyes wandered across the hallway, rejoicing when the people moved around the hall to take a look at the few dresses enclosed in glass pieces. They were the ones that were recently featured in the Paris fashion week and were open for the highest bids.

Satisfied with how the night was progressing, I turned around to go back to my family, barely making a step in the direction when an all too familiar heat touched my skin.

The intensity in it was not subtle, not one bit. It burnt my skin, leaving behind marks that didn't hurt, no, much to my dismay it left me unarmed and tipped the confidence I had been wearing just fine for so long.

Blinking once, I felt my palm coiling in a fist when the intangible caress on my body gilded in ways that flared something akin to anger, and amidst the blazing fire were void pieces- pieces from an untold time.

It was pathetic how my body was all too aware of his presence.

Glancing over my shoulders, my eyes at ones connected with the all too familiar mystic greys. They held no sign of emotion apart from a ring of darkness that surrounded his irises as he stared into my hazel ones for long.

He didn't look away neither did I.

"Here."

I heard the faint voice of Louis and without breaking the heated stare, I took hold of the champagne glass.

Raising it to eye level, I cheered it to him before taking a sip; a slow, sensual gulp. I felt the tick in his jaw even from afar.

Giving him a smile that spoke of nothing apart from everything deranged and lost, I turned my back to him, not letting the burning vehemence affect my stance.

No matter how unfortunate, Azazel Vandeleur was here as a guest and would be treated as such.

Of course, that is, until I stayed true to my ethics.

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