Chapter 3
Iris
The next morning at 8 AM, sunlight filtered through white lace curtains onto the wooden dining table. I sat at the breakfast bar, picking at Elena's French toast while observing Sebastian's morning routine: black coffee, no sugar, LA Times arts section, occasional frowning.
Three days, and he was still carefully avoiding my gaze.
Elena's phone suddenly rang, and she answered with excitement: "Dr. Martin! Yes, tonight? That's perfect!"
My fork froze mid-air, and Sebastian's newspaper trembled slightly.
"Victoria will absolutely love Sebastian," Elena turned to us, her eyes sparkling with matchmaker enthusiasm. "I've been telling Dr. Martin how wonderful my son is."
"Elena, I'm not interested in dating." Sebastian's voice was colder than usual, not even lifting his head to look at us.
"Don't be ridiculous, you're 26. You can't stay single forever." Elena sat down, her tone carrying an undeniable firmness. "Victoria is a pediatrician—smart, beautiful, you'll have plenty to talk about. Tonight, 7 PM, Rosebud Restaurant."
I felt the French toast in my stomach suddenly turn to lead.
"That's great, Sebastian needs a social life." I forced my voice to sound casual and light, though alarm bells were screaming in my head. "I'll check out the art institute, won't interrupt your date planning."
Sebastian finally looked up at me, those deep eyes holding some emotion I couldn't decipher. Confusion? Disappointment? Or... relief?
'Damn it,' I thought, 'I can't just lose to some Victoria I've never even met.'
At 11 AM, the photography department gallery at Pasadena Art Institute buzzed with activity. The modern glass building let sunlight pour in unreservedly, illuminating student works on the walls.
I'd come to clear my head, but found myself captivated by a series called "Urban Intimacy."
Black and white photographs captured private moments in the city: lovers embracing on the subway, strangers making eye contact in coffee shops, tears during breakups in parks. Each image pulsed with raw emotional intensity.
"Your profile would be perfect for black and white photography," a gentle male voice said behind me. "Interested in collaborating?"
I turned to see a young man, about 23, with amber eyes and a vintage camera hanging around his neck—that sharp awareness unique to artists.
"You're the photographer who shot these?" I gestured toward the wall.
"Caspian Rivers." He extended his hand. "I was watching your expression while you looked at my work. Very compelling. Perfect bone structure, especially from this angle."
He gently adjusted the angle of my face, the professional yet natural touch making me realize a perfect opportunity was unfolding before my eyes.
"What kind of project?" I deliberately showed keen interest.
"Emotional portrait series, exploring modern women's inner worlds." Caspian's eyes lit up. "I'm looking for models who can express complex emotions. There would be compensation, of course."
'Perfect,' I celebrated internally, 'let Sebastian see I'm not just some little girl waiting around for him.'
"Sounds fascinating," I smiled. "When do we start?"
"If you have time, we could do some test shots this afternoon." Caspian handed me a business card. "My studio's not far from here."
I took the card, deliberately letting my fingertips graze his: "I'm Iris. Looking forward to it."
At 3 PM, Caspian's temporary studio occupied a converted industrial building. Raw brick walls contrasted with modern photography equipment, the space radiating creative freedom.
"Relax your shoulders, eyes toward me... that's it." Caspian directed from behind his camera, shutter clicks echoing in the open space. "You have a natural camera presence—rare."
I deliberately let my hair fall across my shoulders, following his suggested poses. Being photographed by a professional felt intoxicating, like I was helping create some kind of art.
"Move in closer," Caspian approached to adjust my position, his hand grazing my chin. "Perfect."
At that exact moment, the studio door burst open.
"Iris, Elena's looking for you."
Sebastian's voice cut through the air like ice. He stood in the doorway, face ashen, hands clenched into fists. Seeing Caspian's hand still touching my face, I swear I saw something dangerous flash in his eyes.
"You must be the stepbrother artist." Caspian turned, completely unfazed by Sebastian's appearance, actually seeming somewhat provocative. "Iris just mentioned you. Sebastian Thorne, right? I've heard your name in art circles."
I felt the tension crackling in the air, but decided to fan the flames: "Caspian, this is Sebastian. Sebastian, Caspian invited me to be his exclusive model."
Sebastian's gaze moved between Caspian and me like he was assessing some kind of threat.
"Interesting collaboration," Sebastian's voice was terrifyingly calm. "Iris, Elena really is looking for you. Now."
"Of course," I deliberately walked toward Caspian, exchanging contact information right in front of Sebastian. "Continue tomorrow?"
"Absolutely." Caspian took my hand and kissed the back of it, completely ignoring Sebastian's increasingly dark expression. "You're the most promising model I've ever worked with."
Walking out of the studio, Sebastian said nothing, but I could feel the anger and something more complex radiating from him. Jealousy? Possessiveness? Or simple brotherly protectiveness?
'Whatever it is,' I thought, 'at least he's reacting.'
At 6 PM, I deliberately changed into the black dress I'd worn during the afternoon shoot. The fitted design highlighted my curves, the deep V-neck perfectly, tantalizingly sexy. I knew Sebastian was about to leave for his date, and I wanted to ensure he'd remember this image.
Sure enough, Sebastian came downstairs right on time, wearing a navy suit, hair perfectly styled. When he saw my outfit, he stopped at the bottom of the stairs.
"Where are you going?" His voice sounded strained.
"Caspian invited me to a midnight gallery opening." I answered casually, deliberately fixing my hair in the mirror. "You and Victoria have fun."
Sebastian stood by the door, hand on the handle, motionless for a full 30 seconds. I could see the tension in his facial muscles, like he was fighting some fierce internal battle.
Just then, my phone rang. Caller ID: Caspian Rivers.
I answered right in front of Sebastian, my voice sickeningly sweet: "Hi handsome, I'm ready..."
"Great, I'm outside." Caspian's voice came through clear enough for Sebastian to hear.
After hanging up, I grabbed my clutch and headed for the door. Sebastian still stood there, statue-still.
"Don't wait up for me," I murmured as I passed him, deliberately letting my perfume linger in the air.