Showni13- this one's just for you hope u like it. =)

Hope you all like it too.

Now I'm off to try and study for my finals in a few days, so far, failing miserably at just that. =P

Hope I do well, do pray. =p

DISCLAIMER: I OWN THIS STORYS PLOT AND CHARACTERS.

The start.

Today was just another day.

"Melissa Sheppard! What a pleasure!"

I wish I could say the same, I thought.

Putting it into sweeter words I said "Yes, it certainly is." For you, I wanted to add as he took my hand and kissed it like the million gentlemen present in this room.

I felt my mother, correction, step-mother pinch me slightly knowing what I actually meant by that statement.

I certainly knew I'd be getting a lecture from her as soon as I got home. Nothing new.

I felt like rolling my eyes but dare I say I'm not 'aloud' too.

I smiled at that thought.

"Can I interest you in a dance?" said the guy with the freaky hair otherwise known as Kevin Doyle, also the son of my Dad's rich-soon-to-be business partner.

"She'd love too" said my mother before I could refuse it.

So, I added "As long as you don't step on my foot Mr. Doyle." As he took my hand and led me to the center of this ballroom whilst my heels clicking against the polished marble.

He gave a nervous laughter and said "Call me Kevin."

"I'd rather not."

First name bases would mean I know him, which I don't and I'd rather be formal with everyone here trying to be suitable enough to be my 'spouse' as father had put it. Kevin was on the top of the list.

I'm not even old enough. I'm just 18.

Well, 18 is also the same age when Queen Elizabeth succeeded on the throne, also the legal age, also.. Well, nevermind. The point is I'm not going to let it happen. Dream on. Ha.

We started dancing, swaying from side to side, and his hands around my waste and mine on his shoulders; you know the typical ballroom dancing.

He wasn't sloppy, in fact I've heard he's quite the charmer. Certainly he can't charm me with this kind of hair.

What does father see in him? He doesn't even look like he takes a shower. Ew.

I'll tell you what he see's. It's the money. Definitely. Oh and how my mother loves him.

She has a thing for rich people. No wonder she pretends to like my father on the face and screw other rich men behind him.

Oh yeah, I know. But what can I say, she's sure a charmer.

Whenever I even try to tell my father about all this.. thing.. He shuts me up as if I wasn't his only child, only daughter, only proof of his long dead wife who he apparently loved.

Well, it's certainly expected like the way he treats me now doesn't it?

Like I'm some perfect porcelain doll. La la la. Sick of that.

"So.. What are your hobbies?"

Really? I mean REALLY? That's the only question that comes to his mind?

I gave him the look.

"You look marvelous in that dress"

I still didn't say anything which was making him extremely nervous.

"Not that you don't usually. I mean.. that dress is so lucky to.. I mean."

The music stopped and I said "It was nice dancing with you Mr. Doyle, if you'll excuse me now, I'm done pretending that you look good enough to dance with me or that you're not sweating like a pig."

I walked away to be grabbed by another man wanting to dance with me.

It was a vicious circle of men. It kept going on and on. Never ending. Boring.

I've had so many men fawn over me that I was used to it now.

Finally Malcolm came.

"Malcolm Davis! What took you so long?" I made a mock hurt expression.

"Ah, if it isn't the walking beauty everyone been talking about."

He looked so good in a suit. He was one of those guys who looked so good that people turned to look twice at him.

"Oh shut it." I went and grabbed his arm as he led me to the dance floor.

"What are you doing?" he said shocked. "What if your mother see's?"

I rolled my eyes as he took my hand, kissed it lightly and led me to the dance floor.

"Enjoying?" he asked.

"Very much. I had a blast with Kevin Doyle. Of course behind my mothers back." I smiled sweetly.

"You're such a good actress."

"Why thank you Malcolm."

Malcolm Davis is the son of one of the richest men in the world. He is also my best friend.

"Ooh check that hottie out. I'm gonna try my luck with her. Always a pleasure dancing with you"

"Same here" I smiled.

"Do you mean it or is it one of the sarcastic ones?"

"I mean it." I smiled wider.

He's a good old friend.

It's a known fact that he was a playboy but he had a good heart. At least he wasn't a two sided person like most of the rich people.

I wonder what he's doing at this party. It was for specific guests only. I guess he fit the bill.

After everyone left, as expected I got a behavior lesson from my step mom.

On how my manners needed polishing and my posture and the only reason men ran after me was because I was so 'proper' and 'untouchable'.

For Pete's sake this woman wouldn't rest it.

I was as 'proper' as any woman ever could be.

After an exhausting time I had a nice slumber in my cozy bed with fluffy pillows, silk sheets and the best hand woven blanket.

The next day was also just another day.

Waking up at 9 am, having breakfast, going to my dads company. Well, I did work there.

My skills were very good for the company. I was very.. persuasive when it came to closing deals and organized when it came to management.

Putting up my black coat on a white collar shirt accompanied with a waist high skirt and black stilettos I left in my cherry red Ferrari enzo.

I refused to sit in all the black cars we had, from Roles Royce to hummers and Mercedes.

I liked having a fashion statement or a style statement. Not just a 'Look that's his daughter.'

At least I had my own name now.

I went to the office where a nice warm cup of starbucks coffee awaited.

"Thank you Tracy. Any calls?"

"Mr. Brook called saying he needed to reschedule"

"Too bad, we don't have time. I'm not running some charity work here. People need to see if we're free not the other way round."

"Mrs. James called and wanted to meet us for another meeting before she finalizes that she wants us to handle her case."

"What? No. She has to choose us! We are the best law firm in the whole damn country. Plus we can't afford to, she's one of the biggest clients we have. Where is my father?"

I started walking towards the conference room.

"I'm sorry, you can't go in there."

"Why?"

Sara, my dad's secretary hesitated and said "Because an unauthorized meeting is going on.."

"Why wasn't I informed about this earlier?" I said feeling angry.

I walked towards the door and said "Nothing happens in here without me being informed, you might want to write that down for next time."

She gulped and nodded.

I walked in and saw my father sitting with Mr. Gabriel Doyle and another gorgeous man.

All three of them looked up as I said "I'm sorry for interrupting.. But what's going on?"

"None of your business." Replied Mr. Doyle easily.

"The hell it is. This is my company Mr. Doyle and I suggest you remain on the sidelines till my father collaborates with you." I said calmly even though I was feeling very angry.

When my mother, real mother died, I had built such a thick wall that not even my own father could break it down.

At least it taught me how to hide my emotions. That's all I needed to survive at the moment.

I was so against this whole partnership and my father went against my advice. Obviously he didn't listen to me. After all it was my word against my step mothers. She was probably be doing Mr. Doyle this times. No wonder she likes the Doyle family so much

"Sweetheart, this man here is Jonathan Wilde."

There was no doubt my father didn't love me or he hadn't spoiled me. He always had. But sometimes it sure didn't feel like it.

I looked at Jonathan Wilde as he smiled and with his index finger middle finger and his thumb, he gave a small salute.

"The one and only"

He was extremely pale with jet black hair which looked silky and fell in his eyes. His eyes were as black as the sky at night without a moon shinning. He had perfect sharp angular features and pearly white teeth that could be perfect to use in an advertisement.

My father with an edge to his voice.. Probably insecurity and a hint of possessiveness he added "He's a professional thief."

What?

I'm sure a look of disgust or shock crossed my face before I concealed it.

"I'm not a thief, I'm a con artist" he said simply.

He sure didn't look like one.

Don't forget to review. =p

Loads of love,

Zoya.