Chapter 5 A LIFE SOLD FOR EXPOSURE

The car ride was quiet as we sped through the bustling streets of the city. I tried to focus on the passing buildings, the blur of people going about their lives, but my mind kept circling back to what was coming next.

Liam hadn't said much after we left my apartment, only that he had everything planned and I needed to trust him. Trust-such a simple word, but the weight of it felt heavy in my chest. I was stepping into his world now, not just as someone on the sidelines but as someone who had to learn to navigate it on my own.

"Isabella."

I glanced over at Liam. His profile was sharp, focused, as he kept his eyes on the road. Even though he wasn't the one driving, he had this air about him like he was in control of everything around him, even the city itself.

"We're almost there," he said, breaking the silence that had settled between us. "Remember what I told you last night. You don't need to fit into this world. You just need to stand out."

I swallowed the lump forming in my throat and nodded. It was easier said than done. After the gallery email this morning, I'd been battling with the idea of what it meant to stand out. My art, the thing I'd poured my soul into for years, was about to take a backseat to this new life I'd agreed to. And yet, there was something thrilling about the unknown, about seeing how far I could push myself in a world that scared me.

Liam seemed to sense my hesitation, and for the first time since we'd met, he softened. His hand brushed lightly against mine, and though the touch was brief, it grounded me in the moment.

"You'll be fine," he said quietly. "I wouldn't have brought you here if I didn't think you were ready."

Before I could respond, the car slowed to a stop in front of a sleek, modern high-rise. The building towered above us, all glass and steel, reflecting the city around it like a giant mirror. Liam got out first, offering his hand to help me out of the car, and as I stepped onto the pavement, I felt like I was crossing a threshold. There was no turning back now.

We walked into the lobby, where the air was cool and polished, the marble floors gleaming under the soft light. The receptionist didn't even need to ask who we were. As soon as she saw Liam, she offered a polite smile and directed us to the private elevator.

"This is it," Liam said as the doors slid closed, and we ascended to the top floor. "Your first introduction."

"Introduction?" I echoed, my stomach doing somersaults.

"To the people who matter," he clarified. "The ones who will help shape your image. But remember, it's still your story. You're the artist."

The elevator dinged, and the doors opened to reveal a spacious, open room with floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a panoramic view of the city. It was breathtaking, but I didn't have time to take it all in before I was greeted by the sight of three people waiting for us.

There was a tall woman with sleek black hair pulled back into a severe bun, her sharp eyes assessing me as soon as I stepped into the room. Beside her stood a man in his early forties, impeccably dressed, his posture confident and commanding. And the third person, a younger woman in her mid-twenties, wore a bright smile that contrasted with the intensity of the other two.

"Isabella, meet Evelyn, Marcus, and Clare," Liam said, gesturing to each of them in turn. "They're the best in the business."

I wasn't sure which business he was referring to, but I smiled politely anyway.

"Isabella, it's a pleasure," Evelyn said, her voice cool but professional. "Liam has told us a lot about you."

"I hope all good things," I replied, trying to match her confident tone.

She raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a faint smile. "Of course."

Marcus, the older man, stepped forward next. "Liam's made quite the investment in you," he said, his eyes scanning me from head to toe. "We're here to make sure it pays off."

His words made my stomach twist uncomfortably, but I forced myself to smile. "No pressure, right?"

He chuckled, though there was little warmth in it. "Only if you let it get to you."

And finally, Clare, the youngest of the group, offered me a genuine smile as she stepped closer. "I'm so excited to work with you," she said brightly. "We're going to do amazing things."

I appreciated her enthusiasm, even if it felt slightly misplaced. I wasn't sure what amazing things they had in mind, but I wasn't about to find out by standing in the doorway.

"We have a lot to discuss," Evelyn said, taking control of the conversation again. "Shall we?"

Liam gestured for me to follow them into the sitting area, where plush white couches and sleek glass tables filled the space. As we sat down, Evelyn wasted no time diving into the reason we were all here.

"Liam wants to position you as a fresh new face in the art world, but with a story that sets you apart," she began, her tone all business. "Your background as an independent artist gives you authenticity, but we need to craft a narrative that's both aspirational and relatable."

I blinked, trying to keep up. "A narrative?"

Marcus leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "People don't just buy art, Isabella. They buy the story behind it. The artist. That's what we're going to sell."

I nodded slowly, though the idea of "selling" myself felt uncomfortable. Art had always been personal for me, something I did because I needed to, not because I wanted to market myself. But Liam had said this world was different, and if I was going to survive in it, I had to adapt.

Evelyn continued, outlining their strategy for me-public appearances, interviews, carefully curated social media posts, all designed to build a brand around me. It sounded overwhelming, but also... strangely exciting.

"And your relationship with Liam," Clare chimed in, glancing between the two of us. "That's going to be a big part of the story."

I stiffened slightly, not expecting that to be brought up so soon. Liam remained quiet beside me, his expression unreadable.

"What do you mean?" I asked carefully.

Clare smiled. "People are going to be curious. About you, about Liam, about how the two of you met. It's a compelling story, and it will add to your mystique."

I looked at Liam, unsure how to respond. Was this part of his plan all along? To use our connection-whatever it was-as part of the larger narrative they were crafting for me?

Liam finally spoke, his voice calm but firm. "We'll keep the details private," he said, his eyes meeting mine briefly before turning back to Clare. "Isabella's work is the focus. Not her personal life."

Clare nodded quickly, though I could see a flicker of disappointment in her eyes. "Of course. But we'll still need to address it, in some way."

Liam didn't respond, but his silence said enough. This was his world, and I was just beginning to understand the rules.

After what felt like hours of discussion, Evelyn wrapped things up, her gaze lingering on me for a moment before she spoke again. "We'll handle everything from here. All you need to do is focus on your art. Let us worry about the rest."

I nodded, grateful for the simplicity of her directive, though I knew that nothing about this would be simple. As we stood to leave, Liam placed a hand on my lower back, guiding me toward the elevator.

"You did well," he murmured as we descended back to the lobby.

"Did I?" I asked, my voice tinged with uncertainty.

Liam glanced at me, his expression softening for just a moment. "Better than you think."

I wasn't sure if that was true, but I appreciated the reassurance. As the elevator doors opened and we stepped outside into the bright afternoon sun, I felt a strange mixture of excitement and anxiety. I had taken the first step, but I had no idea what was coming next.

And as I looked up at Liam, his eyes reflecting that same calm confidence, I couldn't help but wonder-was I in too deep already?