Love Inferno: When Fire Meets Ice

DORIS EVANS scurried through the crowded airport, searching frantically for the lost and found office. Her heart pounded against her chest and her breath shortened and quickened as she pushed her way through the throngs of people. She felt panic rising inside her, and her hands trembling as she fumbled through her pockets, looking for her phone.

OH, DORIS! YOU AND YOUR SCATTERED BRAIN!

How had she misplaced her purse? There were important things in there that she couldn't afford to lose.

Just when she was about to lose it completely to panic, she spotted a sign pointing to the lost and found, and she hurried towards it, feeling a glimmer of hope.

She shoved past someone as she reached the entrance. Subconsciously, she apologized hastily before proceeding to the clerk's desk.

Doris cleared her throat. "Uh. . . Hi, there!" She said, addressing the clerk. "I lost my purse some minutes ago."

Desperate, she pleaded with the clerk, explaining that she had her passport and other important documents in the purse. Luckily, someone had just brought in the same purse she had described.

"Is this your purse?" he asked, holding up a small black handbag.

Doris' eyes widened in recognition. "Yes!" she exclaimed. "That's it. That's my purse! Oh! I was really starting to panic. Thank you so much!"

After going through the identification process and whatnot, it was released back to her.

Before she turned to leave, relieved with the fact that her belongings were retrieved, she asked the clerk, "Do you have a clue who might have found my purse? I would love to thank him personally."

"Oh? He was just standing there on the phone a few minutes ago."

Doris remembered blindly bumping into someone right at the entrance. "Ah! Thanks again," she cried. Then she hurried out. Hopefully, she would catch up with whoever the lifesaver was.

She spotted the tall, dark-haired hunk, cladded in a white and black checked suit, who was still on his phone. She recognized him immediately. When she'd bumped into him earlier, she'd slightly noticed his unique sense of fashion and his refreshing essence.

"Excuse me. . . Excuse me. . ." she called, chasing after him. When she drew closer she tapped, his shoulder. "Uh, excuse me, I learned you found my purse. I can't thank you enough. This—"

"Doris. . .? Doris? Is that you?"

A moment of silence saturated the air as their eyes met, and Doris felt jolts of electricity running through her body. His gaze was intense and magnetic, and she couldn't look away.

It couldn't be. . .

Doris finally managed to break the silence, her voice trembling slightly. "Brad. . .?"

There was an awkward pause as the two of them stood there, looking at each other in disbelief. The tension in the air was palpable as if they were both waiting for something to happen.

Brad's gaze was mesmerizing, and Doris could feel her heart pounding in her chest, her pulse revving, giant butterflies flapping her wings in her stomach.

As much as she tried not to, a brief flashback of their time together flashed through her mind. The late nights, the whispered conversations, the stolen moments of passion. It had been a whirlwind, but it had ended so abruptly.

And now here he was, standing right in front of her, glowing in his beautiful, heart-tingling smile, making her break the promise she'd made to herself four years ago. . .

NEVER FALL AGAIN!

* * * *

SEETHING WITH wrath, Doris burst through the entrance of sky-towering building of her modelling agency.

D&M Agency was her pride and joy. She'd never believe she would come this far with her dreams all by herself without anyone's help.

As a typical Daddy's Girl whose "Daddy" was amongst the top five wealthiest tycoons in the states, she'd grown up having all the options and luxury. She'd been treated like a princess for as long as she could remember, getting anything. . . and everything she wanted at her beck and call.

She'd had maids to wait on her at every second of the day. Spoilt with expensive gifts and a lavish lifestyles.

Most kids got toys, puppies, and other cutie stuff on their fifth birthday but her father had given her a piece of real estate.

He'd gifted her a Ferrari at ten she wasn't even old enough to ride it. A yacht with her name inscribed on it at sixteen. A limitless Black Card at eighteen. . . the list went on and on and on.

Since her birth mother had died the same day she was born, she never had the chance to meet her. Her father was the only family she had left, so turning to him for help had always felt natural and instinctive.

Truth be told, she hadn't needed to reach out to him. He'd always seemed to have a way of knowing when she needed help and often solved her problems before she could even ask. It was as if her father could read her mind.

However, at a certain point in her life, she decided to strike out on her own and explore life without his guidance or financial support. She knew it would be risky, but she was determined to make her own way and find her own success. She was ready to take flight and see what she could achieve on her own.

And that she'd done when she moved to Paris four years ago, away from family and friends.

She'd left her old life behind and start over in Paris. It had been a fresh start, a chance to leave her heartbreak and pain in the past and put her life back together.

Doris had worked hard to establish her modeling agency from the ground up. It had been a struggle at the start but she'd succeeded in making it a thriving business. Now, she had models from all over the world working for her, and she was considered one of the top agencies in Paris in just two years.

She was proud of what she'd accomplished. . . and extremely protective of it. That was why she was prepared to raise hell on earth after learning what had happened to one of her models.

"GIVE ME THE DEETS!" Doris exploded as she blasted through the door of the meeting room. "What exactly happened when I was away?!"

Everyone rose to their feet, their expression glistening with surprise as she stormed in, including Geneviève Moreau, her acting president.

When she established her agency, she hadn't been ready to step into the limelight. She'd wanted to remain behind the scenes while running the affairs of the company. After careful consideration, she'd appointed Geneviève Moreau, a woman who exuded not just beauty and poise but also terrific insight, to take on the office of acting president and the public face of the company, while Doris remained the beating heart of the company, hidden from the world's view.

Which was quite funny considering the fact Doris had lived constantly in the public eye all her life. She'd been a child model, fell in love with the profession, and decided it was the career path to walk through and she'd smashed it quite excellently but now she was terrified to step into the spotlight.

It hadn't always been that way. In fact, it was far from it. She'd walked runways of prominent fashion shows, been on the cover of popular fashion magazines, starred in one or two musical videos and movies, and had over twenty million followers on her social media page.

She'd flourished in the industry and cherished all the attention she received but everything had changed on that day four years ago.

That day she'd never forget.

"Ma'am! You didn't have to come all the way here from Nigeria," Geneviève said to Doris in her thick French accent. She hurried towards her instantly, her ruby red lips stretching in a smile. "I and the rest of the team are getting the situation under control."

Doris had found this stunning young lady on IG, a couple of weeks ago and had decided her agency needed a fresh face like hers. Her beauty was striking, but it was her raw talent that truly captivated Doris. Hence, she'd flown all the way to West Africa herself determined to get her girl. Although it would have been more convenient to let the casting team handle it, Doris knew that when it came to scouting underaged potential models, she preferred to do it in person.

And there had she heard all the buzz revolving around her agency.

Doris raised a well-carved eyebrow. "Oh? Then why is the dougebag still not behind bars."

"Well. . ."

"Tell me! What. Exactly. Happened?" Doris cut in, drumming her po