The Bound Flame

op

ing scent of turpentine in my cramped art studio or the increasing

Kelvin had been less of a conversation and more of an ultimatum. "You have

anges blended in chaotic harmony but staring at it now, all I saw was the crushing weight of failure. I looked around my room. The scattered paint tubes, half-finished sketches, and stacks of unpa

ck to reality. I grabbed it off the table, expecting another call from Mr. Ke

answered

professional. "This is Mr. Crawford, personal assistant to Julia

who he was- the billionaire CEO of Blackwell Corp, known for his cutthroat business strategies and an em

I managed to say w

impressed and would like to discuss a potential collaboration with you. Are

re was interested in my work? It didn't make sense. I wasn't famou

atedly, my mind racing

receive an email shortly with the details.

For a moment, I just stood there, staring at my p

, a midestvolace with checkered tablecloths and the best coffee in the city.

d. "Julian Blackwell, the guy who owns Manhattan; wan

as some sort of mistake. "That's wh

ould be your big break

red slowly. "What if it's a sca

softening. "You're insanely talented! Have you seen your work from people

feeling that opportunities like this didn't just fall into peop

s I borrowed from my best friend Lily- and I had practiced a professional pitch as little as I could.

g, every inch of it a testament to the man who

s finally opened, I was greeted by a bustling room filled with the city's eli

Ben

ching. "I'm Mr. Crawford," he said with a polite nod. "Thank

m the floor to the ceiling windows. The city stretched out, glittering and alive. For a moment, I allowed myself

ice sent shivers down my spine, I turned t

nsity that seemed to radiate from him. His dark hair was perfectly styled, and his suit was t

," I said, ext

" he said, a faint scowl etched on his face, and then a sm

expected a business-like exchange, but the way he looked at me;

to steady my voice. "It's not every day someo

eyes. "I believe in recognizing potential when I see one. But

r of the room. As we sat, his demea

see promises in your works- I see an opportunity for both of us. But op

ic, and the weight of his gaze made me feel as though I

ies? I asked, my voice

t quite a smile. "Let's just say it's not

t; and risk you may not be ready for, but it could chan