16. DAHLIA HARPER

"Lia, is something bothering you about the meeting?" Marco said to me while he was driving me to the meeting spot. "Your knuckles are so white."

I glanced at my knuckles, which were white like all the blood had drained out of them. I quickly relaxed my hold on my purse and forced a smile.

"It is just my nervousness. I don't know if I would love my publicist or not." I made an excuse.

Marco nodded understandingly, his eyes reflecting concern. "Just remember, you're in control. You can always make changes if needed," he reassured me as we pulled up to the meeting spot.

"But is it really the matter?" Marco's expressions said it all. He doesn't believe me. He knows me very well in such a short time. That is another thing that tugs at my heart.

He knows I am making an excuse. I have not been myself since this morning. Today in the morning, while having breakfast, I dropped a full glass of coffee on myself. I was not talking much. I was fidgety and worried. My mind is filled with all the possibilities that could be, and most of them are bad.

I made an excuse to myself that probably my publicist has a voice like Roland, but still, it wouldn't help me that much at the very end. I was trying (and failing) to move on from my past, and if I had a publicist with the same voice as Roland, it would only get worse and worse. Imagine you'll have to hear a voice the same as his; it would be a struggle for me to even function properly.

What if it is Roland?

I don't want to go there.

.

"We are here, Lia." Marco opened the door for me to get out.

"Thanks for the ride, dear." I replied absent-mindedly. IBut before I can get out Marco leaned , blocked the exit. He looked handsome,so god-like. All that olive skin and chiseled jawline made it hard to resist his charm. As he gazed into my eyes, I felt a flutter in my stomach, unsure of what was to come next.

"You don't need to thank me, Diamond. And is everything alright, or is it just being nervous?" Marco is still pressing me to tell him what the matter is. He is worried about my well-being, his concern evident in his furrowed brow.

But I can't.

I hate to keep it a secret from everyone.

Especially him and my parents.

What if they start seeing me differently? That I am not all that brave little girl they thought I was.

"It's just stress and nervousness mixed together. I have some important events and I have to get in my best shape. Nothing, really."

"Best shape? Are they kidding me. You are perfect just the way you are. You don't need to change a thing for anyone." Marco said, stepping to the side to let me exit. The air splashed on my face and I tucked few strands of hair behind my ear.

"No one is perfect." I say.

" Well, you're perfect to me," Marco replied with a smile. "Just be yourself, and everything will fall into place."

I can never get tired of his smiles. They are something different entirely. His face lights up in a way that is contagious, making me feel at ease and accepted. It's a rare quality that I cherish in him. His dark eyes get a twinkle, his face radiates warmth, and his presence is comforting.

His smile is like a warm hug on a cold day.

"Why are you staring at me? Is something wrong?" Marco asked, breaking me out of my thoughts.

"It's called looking lovingly at you," I replied with a grin. "Your smile just has that effect on me."

"Is that so?" I can practically see his ego inflating as he puffs his chest out slightly.

"I have to go. Stop thinking about me and drive safely." I tell him, at which he grabs my waist and pulls me closer. I can feel his heartbeat against mine, and in that moment, everything seems to fall into place.

"That's the only ailment I have, sweetheart. I can't stop thinking about you." He says and dips his head.

I wanted his lips on mine, but I knew what was going to happen if people saw him kissing me. I don't want to keep it a secret, but I want to tell our families first. I wouldn't be able to handle Dad and uncles if the news burst out first. His dropping me off can be considered an act of favor, but kissing me, nah. Plus, he is one of the most sought-out bachelors in town, and I don't want to be the cause of any drama or scandal.

"Not here; a word will get out ." I whispered as he leaned in, understanding my concerns.

"I don't care about them. People could talk all they want." He said. "Plus, I can take care of them if they try to start anything."

I pushed him back. "We need to talk to our families first."

"Let's talk to them today." God, this man. He was so impulsive, but I couldn't help but be drawn to his confidence and protectiveness.

"Come on, patience is a virtue."

"Virtues aren't for me ." He said with a smirk, pulling me closer.

A flush crept to my cheeks.

"Okay, enough talk. I need to go, and don't you have a company to run?" I smiled coyly.

"My business could run without me not being there for an hour or two." He said it lazily, oozing casual arrogance, that smirk never leaving his face.

"Are you ever worried about anything?" I asked. Maybe it would make me feel better.

"I take stress, but there is only one thing I'm worried about."

"What is it?"

"I am worried about losing you." His steady gaze was burning into mine. How can he say this so casually, as if it were a simple fact of life? It made my heart skip a beat.

Oh my, will he be worried about keeping me when he learns what deeds have happened to me? Or will he turn away in disgust at the thought? But I can bear to lose him when I finally feel safe with someone. When I can freely show affection and be vulnerable without fear of judgment. His words, though simple, carried a weight that I had never experienced before. My vision becomes foggy, a strange wetness forming in my eyes as I struggle to maintain composure.

"Diamond, don't cry. I can't stand it." He swept me into his arms, his arms wrapping around my body as if he were shielding me from the world. "I know something is wrong, and I am sorry to push you so hard to tell me. Tell me when you can, but don't hold it back."

"No, don't be sorry. It is not your fault; it is my nightmare. I want to escape them, but they seem to have come back. Every time I try..." It was half truth and half lie. I indeed wanted to escape my nightmares. But the truth was, I was afraid of what might happen if I let anyone else in. My past was a burden I didn't want to burden anyone else with.

I buried my face into his chest while he reassured me, "You are strong and brave. Just take some more time. I'm here for you, right by your side, every step of the way." His words were a comfort, but deep down I knew that facing my nightmares would be a battle I had to fight alone.

I stayed like this in his arms for a moment. capturing all the warmth and confidence. I don't care if people see me because I am sure Marco will tell Taehyung to handle all the media shit if I tell him to.

"Distruggerò chiunque tenterà di farti del male, lo prometto." He said

(Translation: I WILL DESTROY ANYTHING IF IT TRIES TO HARM YOU, I PROMISE.)

The butterflies in my stomach took flight and brushed my heart.

"Grazie per avermi lasciato e per essere qui per me." I say, and wait for his reaction.

[TRANSLATION: THANKS FOR DROPPING ME AND BEING HERE FOR ME]

His face showed surprise, but not as much as I expected. His expression was like, I guessed it right.

"I thought that. How could Dad not teach you Italia"n? He guessed absolutely right; it was my uncle who introduced me to Italian, which I pursued. I am happy I can speak five languages.

"Ti amo, diamond."

"Ti amo tanto."

[....................].

I entered the meeting room of my agency. Martha was sitting beside the seat that was supposed to be mine, busy with some papers. There was a seat opposite mine that was reserved for my new publicist, whom I don't want to meet. Maybe I am just being paranoid.

I took the seat beside Martha and tried to focus on anything at all except the nagging worry in my mind.

"Miss Harper, we have been waiting for you for so long." She looked at me over the papers she was engrossed in.

"Martha, you can call me Lia. We have been working for almost 6 years." I reminded her.

Martha was a 44-year-old woman who was perfectly perfect at handling things and work. She had ocean blue eyes and caramel brown hair. She wasn't gorgeous by conventional means, but it would be unfair to say that she wasn't beautiful.

I met her when I was 18 and was new to this agency. I had urged her to call me by my name, but she insisted on calling me Miss Harper. She handled everything very effectively.

"Miss Harper would be fine for me." She collected the papers and kept them in the file lying beside them.

I failed again to convince her.

"Should we talk about your new publicist?" Martha asked me, her eyes carrying a strange shine in them. Like the one that happens when you kind of find a solution to the worst of your problems.

I don't need to be afraid. Even if it's Roland or someone else, I am a strong woman who could achieve anything. I can shoot a gun (thanks to my dad). I am not that 14-year-old Dahlia. I could meet him and then reject him. I will move past this phase and end this chapter once and for all.

What if he still has your videos somewhere?

He doesn't have my videos now, maybe. I stole and destroyed the physical means and did some basic hacking I learned from watching Dad late at night and some not-so-conventional means to erase some digital footage when I couldn't bear the blackmail and threats from him. I am not a genius like Dad, so I may have left something, but I don't think so. Because he left after I deleted this evidence. Mom told me his mother fell sick, but I didn't believe it. He fled because he knew he had nothing to keep me under him.

When he went away, I tried to be normal and forget about it. I simply couldn't. The trauma of two years with him haunts me to this day. Mom told me that maybe it was too early for me to go to modeling classes, but I was ambitious, and I went, only to regret it all my life. He didn't rape me, but did all kind of abuses. I felt trapped in a cycle of fear and manipulation, unable to escape the memories of his cruel actions. The scars he left on my mental health were far deeper than any physical wounds he could have inflicted.

Maybe I should have told dad? He would never have judged me. He loved me right and would have supported me through it all. He was so ever- present and understanding. I wish I had confided in him sooner.

I am rn loathing myself a lot for even thinking that dad, the man who could destroy the world for me, and mom would blame me for all of it. I couldn't' shake it off. I feel like I have been brainwashed. Whatever Roland said to me still makes me suspicious about things. about myself. I may have moved on physically and professionally, but mentally, I am still somewhere stuck in these memories.

But I have to get out of the loop. I can't remain here forever. I am wasting days of my life. I could have spent all this time joking and flirting with the man I love rather than worrying and concering him. I need to stop. I need a fucking closure. I need to confront Roland and demand answers. I can't let his words continue to control me and my thoughts. I deserve to move on and live my life without constantly questioning myself. It's time to break free from this toxic cycle and find peace within myself. I am ready to let go and finally find the closure I so desperately need.

"Miss Harper, what is the matter?" Martha's voice drifted me towards reality. I blinked, realizing I had been lost in my thoughts. Taking a deep breath, I turned to Martha and replied, Who recommended him?"

"He himself asked to work with you, and I checked his portfolio. He's new, worked for a Korean celeb, and prevented his image from getting tarnished. YOU know how hard it is there. He doesn't come forward to the cameras but works from behind the scenes." Martha stated. "Plus, you don't love people sticking around you. So it's a win-win."

I said that about bodyguards, but anyway.

Here he comes.

I looked up to the door and saw someone stepping inside.

My hands started to tremble, and sweat beaded on my forehead. It was none other than Roland Willman. My nightmare in front of me. again.

DAHLIA, THERE IS NO REASON TO BE AFRAID. JUST CLOSE THIS CHAPTER.

YOU ARE A STRONG GIRL AND YOU COULD DO THIS

You are strong and brave. Just take some more time. I'm here for you, right by your side, every step of the way

My little butterfly can ace anything. I believe in her.

Dahlia, you are capable of anything.

YOU ARE YOUR OWN KID.

"I would like to talk with Mr. Willman alone and let you know my judgment afterwards." I spoke, sounding as bold as I could over the thumping of my heart. I looked at Roland, that same cruel monstrous face. Brown hair and black eyes. Tan skin and a gaze so devilish it made my blood run cold.

JUST GET OVER THIs.

"But Miss—

"I trust myself to handle this. I'll let you know my decision." With a deep breath, I stood my ground, determined to face Roland head-on. My confidence wavered slightly, but I refused to let it show as I faced the intimidating man before me.

Martha left, leaving me alone with him.

"So how are you, Lia? I hope you are fine." Roland said it to me in a devilishly polite tone.

Anger and frustration bubbled over me. All these years, I have been so tormented by the memories that I could barely sleep at night. And he asks me how have I been , as if nothing ever happened between us. I took a moment to compose myself before responding, "I've been better, Roland. Let's cut to the chase - why are you really here?"

"What can I say? I missed my little girl." He drawled, eyeing me with a hint of nostalgia in his gaze. It was clear that he was trying to manipulate my emotions, but I refused to let him get the best of me.

"I am not your baby girl or anything. I have moved on from the past and I am not interested in revisiting it with you." I stated firmly, maintaining my composure despite the flood of memories his presence brought back.

"Oh! I see you have got a pretty mouth, haven't you?" He stood up and walked towards me. He circled the chair and placed his hands on my shoulder. He leaned so his breath fanned my ear. "Yes, I have come here to make love to you like I did. You did some bravery, like your asshole father, to destroy the evidence and thought this thing was over. No, darling, it is not. I couldn't live without you and your precious body, which no one will ever love except me. Who will ever love that disgusting girl with curls and long legs? Just accept it, and I will cancel the punishment for your talking back." Here he goes again, manipulating me. But I remind myself, that Marco loves me. With all my curls and legs. My friends loves me for who I am. My parents do. My family does.

I stand from the chair , my heart pounding. I will not let him control me any longer. I will not allow his toxic words to define my worth. It's time to walk away and never look back. "Accept it? Never. I'd rather be hated by everyone than to be loved by you. This precious body and soul are mine to cherish, not yours to degrade. This meeting is over, Mr. Willman. And Roland? Talk about my father like that again and I'll show you what Harpers are truly made of."

I gave him a scathing look, sweat on my forehead, and turned to leave the room , my heart pounding with adrenaline.

"You are still your daddy's girl. But that dad doesn't know the slutty thing her whore of a daughter did, does he? Does he know that his precious daughter is nothing but a lying, conniving snake?"

My blood boiled as I clenched my fists, trying to control my anger.

"I was not a slut. You forced yourself on me. You manipulated me into thinking I didn't deserve anything. You traumatized me. In that two years, I didn't leanr modelling, I learnt how to hate myself." The memories flooded back, the pain still fresh in my mind. I knew I had to confront him, to finally speak my truth and take back my power.

"Say the truth, Dahlia; you didn't have the guts to do that. You are still a bitch, and—"

I don't know what happened to me, but I crossed the room and slapped him hard on the cheek. Satisfaction crept through me at the imprint of my hand on his cheek , a sense of empowerment washing over me. It was the first step in reclaiming my self-worth and standing up for myself after years of emotional abuse.

I snapped, " I will not tolerate being disrespected any longer. You son of a bitch. Say another word about me or my family and you will regret it." I kicked him and he fell down on his knees and looked at me with shock and anger.

"You look great when on your knees. Mind my words, If I decide to move , you will wish you had never crossed me." With that, I turned and walked away, feeling a newfound sense of strength and confidence.

"What is the problem, Miss Harper?" Martha asked me , concern evident in her voice.

"Reject him. Contact Sloane Castillo's Pr firm. They are the best."

Martha nodded in understanding, knowing that I meant business. "Consider it done," she replied, before heading off to make the necessary arrangements.

I felt free. This was the end of it. The end.

I wanted to have a party.

I texted the group chat.

ME: Hey, girls. Wanna have a girls night at my house today?

Josie: I'm in. Meet you at 8.

Sofia: Count me in too.

Sofia and Camilla had become best friends with Josie over the years. Aunt Vivian met Aunt Ava and Bridget at an event she planned. They became friends since Josie got included in our tiny girls group.

Princess: I miss you all. Come to Eldorra soon for mom and dad's anniversary.

ME: We will come.

JOSIE: Why is this party happening suddenly? Any scene with Jasper?ME: There is nothing like this. Don't give Sofia false hopes.

I was happy, but there was some voice in my mind, which was mostly right, and I hated what it told me.

' Something is going to happen'