𝗩𝗜𝗫𝗘𝗡 | 𝗠𝗮𝗿𝗸 𝗟𝗲𝗲 || ᴀᴍʙᴡ

𝗛𝗘𝗥

The soft hum of the luxury car engine faded as Mark Lee stepped onto the polished marble floor of the studio. His eyes darted around, taking in the high ceilings, sleek equipment, and the quiet buzz of assistants preparing for the shoot. Despite his calm exterior, there was a flicker of nervous energy underneath. He had worked on countless projects before, but this one was different.

Visha.

He had heard of her before—who hadn't? The model and video vixen was known not just for her striking beauty but for the aura she commanded both on and off set. Her name alone was enough to make people straighten up, speak more carefully. It wasn't just her appearance that captivated, but the power that radiated from her every move.

Mark wasn't sure what to expect, but he knew today would set the tone for their time together.

As he approached the dressing room where she waited, the door creaked open, revealing Visha standing there in front of the mirror. She didn't turn to greet him immediately, instead taking one last look at her reflection, adjusting the collar of her sleek black blazer. When she finally turned, her eyes met his, and a smirk tugged at the corner of her lips.

"I'm glad you could make it," she said, her voice calm but laced with something that felt almost teasing.

Mark straightened his posture slightly. He wasn't the type to get nervous, but Visha's presence had a way of making anyone feel small in comparison. He gave her a polite smile, the kind he had perfected for the cameras. "I'm glad you could too, considering your situation."

She raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by his comment. "Relax, it's just a little rumor." Her tone was dismissive, but there was no mistaking the confidence in her voice. She didn't waste time explaining herself or justifying anything. Visha wasn't the type to bend under pressure—Mark could see that already.

He chuckled softly, trying to ease the tension that had settled in the air between them. "So, tell me about yourself," he said, slipping his hands into his pockets. "Considering we'll be working together for a while."

Visha leaned back against the vanity, her gaze never leaving his. There was a pause, as if she were deciding how much to reveal. "I like things a certain way, and that's not how the world works around me," she said finally, her voice low and controlled. "So, I do things myself."

Her words hung in the air, and Mark could feel the weight of them. She wasn't just talking about her work ethic—there was something deeper there, a glimpse of the control she maintained in every aspect of her life.

He nodded slowly, absorbing her words. "What about you, Mr. Lee?" she asked, turning the tables. Her eyes gleamed with curiosity, though her posture remained effortlessly composed.

Mark blinked, momentarily caught off guard by her sudden interest. "Me?" he repeated, his voice soft, as if he hadn't expected her to ask. He hesitated, thinking for a moment before responding. "I like... following a path, I guess. I've always worked hard to meet expectations. Sometimes it feels like I'm just—moving forward, doing what's expected."

Visha's gaze sharpened, as if she could see straight through him. "So, you let the world dictate how things should go?" Her question was direct, challenging, but not unkind.

Mark shifted his weight. "I guess you could say that. I've never really thought about it that way, though."

Visha smiled, a knowing look in her eyes. "Maybe you should. There's power in doing things your own way."

Mark couldn't deny the way her words stirred something inside him. There was a confidence about her, a certainty in the way she approached life, that left him feeling... curious. He had always done what was expected of him, moved through life carefully, but Visha seemed to play by her own rules.

He couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to let go of the reins, to let someone else take control for once.

"Well, Mr. Lee," Visha said, standing up straight and brushing past him with a graceful ease. "I'm sure we'll have plenty of time to figure out how we work together."

As she walked past, Mark caught a whiff of her perfume, a scent that lingered in the air like a subtle command. He turned his head slightly, watching her disappear down the hallway, leaving him standing there, feeling like the air had shifted.

This was going to be an interesting collaboration.

And Mark had the feeling that he wouldn't be calling the shots.

4o