fight for control ↠ harry styles [b1] ✓

CHAPTER 60

Renleigh Kensington

How fucking random was it that the minute I spoke about someone, they just appeared out of nowhere? The worst thing was that I couldn't even blame anyone for anything other than myself because... well, because in a way, it was my fault.

My charity balls – or anything that I ever did – were always invite-only. And plus one. But it never occurred to me that certain people could have a link to someone who got that invite or that those invited would bring someone from my past along as their plus one.  That may have been because my judgemental arse didn't think anyone from my old life would ever do anything worthy to be around people like those who attended my events.

So, yes, that was all on me.

It took me by surprise. It really did. Seeing old faces around, wearing the clothes I made was the biggest glitch I have ever witnessed. And no one, other than me and those involved, knew that we knew each other. I could have pretended like I didn't know them, I could have had them thrown out. But I just went along with it.

For one, they had to have money if they attended and since this ball was for a good cause, I wasn't about to deny those in need from all the penny they could get. Secondly, it felt good. To see them at my event, to know that they knew this was my event. That they knew I did this, that they knew I succeeded and all that shit talk about me becoming rich and owning all these fancy cars and a penthouse weren't just empty words.

It was all reality.

I made my dreams come true even with so many people whispering and chuckling, thinking I would never be able to make anything out of myself. Because I was a mess during my university days. I was in a rough situation. At times, I, myself, didn't believe I would ever make it out of that time but here I was.

Successful and alive.

That shit never felt better than in that moment.

"Mhm, you look incredible," my whole body jolted when I felt a pair of arms around my waist and a body attached to mine from the back. My hair was brushed from my shoulder to one side before soft lips left a kiss on my skin, just where my red dress reached my neck.

It was long sleeved and reached down, below my knees. It had a slit on the left side so my left leg was out with a very daring V cut in the front. And it was red. The power I felt wearing that dress was insane and it made me feel good when I got compliments on the fits I wore.

"I have to," I smirked as I turned around. There were not many people around us, which was nice because I didn't really want to be seen. "Didn't think you'd come."

"I had to," he shrugged. "Gotta support the cause."

"You could have just made a donation," I teased and he rolled his eyes. I watched him cross his arms in front of his chest, the velvet material of his suit tightened on his upper arms. He was always in a good shape and it made me wonder when he found the time to work out.

"Fine-fine," he sighed as he gave in. "Just wanted to support you in person. Is that better?"

"It'll do," I nodded a little as I turned around. The people that were there, all dressed in nice, expensive clothes – more of them in my designs than not – I felt at peace. Every time an event worked out, I liked looking at the outcome and just feeling like I had achieved something good.

"Wait..." he said as he stepped next to me. It made me laugh. The way we just stood on the side, arms crossed and judging everyone. OK, well, maybe not judging but definitely observing. "Is that Megan?" he asked in a shocked state.