Devil's Prisoner of Love by Prefer

Over the past three years, Aurora had navigated the competitive world of business, learning its rules through hard-earned experience. Her foray into perfume-making, however, had been a spur-of-the-moment decision.

If not for the provocation she had endured at Marcos' place, Aurora might never have chosen to study perfumery. From the initial inspiration to the final product, only a few months had passed. She was far from confident-she wasn't a miracle worker, after all- and the fear of failure loomed large.

When production began, Aurora deliberately avoided large-scale manufacturing. She wanted to test the market's reaction first, reducing risks and minimizing potential losses. As she often said, "Scarcity creates value." Limited- edition items held greater allure. Vanity drove people to covet things others couldn't have, elevating their sense of status.

Knowing the power of competition and pride, Aurora decided that a thousand bottles would suffice. Even if they didn't sell as expected, the loss wouldn't be too great. Yet, as she stood before the overwhelming demand, even she was taken aback.

The plaza, already packed with thousands of people, beceven more crowded as Marcos' customers were drawn to her stall. The entire square was a sea of humanity, and pre-orders had already surpassed ten thousand- a number far beyond her initial expectations.

"It seems we don't have to worry anymore. We'll take our leave," Irene said with a light smile. The event was over, and it was tfor her to go.

"All right, Irene. A small token of my appreciation-I hope you like it," Aurora replied warmly. Apart from the thousand bottles for sale, she had prepared ten limited-edition bottles as gifts for family and friends.

Irene's eyes lit up at the sight of the special packaging, her joy as pure as a child's. "You've really outdone yourself," she said, clearly delighted.

Aurora smiled. "I still have swork to finish today, so I won't see you off." With that, Irene left with Nick by her side. Nick, who hated crowded places, rarely made public appearances unless absolutely necessary. This was precisely why many had heard of Mr. Coleman but few had ever seen him in person.

Back in the car, Irene's earlier frustration with Nick seemed to have melted away. As she beamed with excitement, he watched her with an amused expression. It was just a bottle of perfume-was it really worth all this enthusiasm? Unable to resist, Irene sprayed a bit of the perfbehind her ear. Forgetting Nick was right beside her, she asked absentmindedly, "Does it smell good?" The words had barely left her mouth when Nick leaned in, closing the distance between them. Irene instantly regretted letting her guard down.

Nick caged her in, his arms braced on either side of her, surrounding her completely with his presence. His nose brushed against the delicate skin behind her ear as he inhaled deeply, his warm breath tickling her and sending shivers down her spine.

"That smells nice," he murmured, his voice low and intoxicating. After a moment, he added, "But any scent of yours would." Memories flooded Irene's mind-moments they had shared in the past, moments she thought she had left behind. Though two years had passed, the familiar scent, the familiar presence, the familiar voice-they all drew her in once more.

It struck her then: she had never forgotten him. On the contrary, he had only grown more significant in her heart. Even without doing anything, he left her flustered and off balance.

Pushing him away abruptly, Irene tried to regain her composure. Nick seemed as though he wanted to say something, but the weight of their shared history and the pain he had caused her kept him silent.

Meanwhile, Aurora was overwhelmed with the chaos of the event. Though sguests had left, a swarm of reporters had descended upon her.

"Miss Montgomery, did you expect such an overwhelming response?" one reporter asked.

Aurora felt a small sense of relief but kept her expression neutral. "To be honest, I'm a little surprised. I'm just starting out in this industry, like a child learning to walk. I still have a long way to go." "Miss Montgomery, your debut has been remarkably successful. Interestingly, today also marks Mr. Giron's perflaunch. You chose the sday and location-was that a coincidence or...?" The implication was clear. The reporter was trying to stir controversy. Aurora's expression remained calm.

"No, it wasn't a coincidence. I planned this carefully. Christmas is a tfor numerous events, and after much consideration, I decided it was the perfect tfor a launch. Additionally, the timing had to align with Candy's schedule. As for the location, this is a commercial hub, so it was a logical choice." Aurora made no mention of Marcos, but the reporters were relentless.

"I've heard that you initially intended to purchase Mr. Giron's perfbut backed out due to endorsement e issues. Is that what prompted you to create your own perfand launch it on the sday as his? Was this an attempt to overshadow him?" Though Aurora wasn't a celebrity, she had encountered similar situations before. She had prepared for questions like these.

"Excuse me? Overshadow him? Mr. Giron is a respected veteran in the perfindustry. We're all here to create perfumes we love. There's no we need for competition." "But Mr. Giron is an experienced perfumer, and his past launches have been highly successful. However, judging by today's turnout, his event pales in comparison to yours. As a newcomer surpassing a veteran, what are your thoughts on Mr. Giron's release?"

"Thoughts?" Aurora's tone remained composed. "I don't have any. I'd just like to remind everyone that this is merely a launch event. A smaller O crowd doesn't necessarily mean poor sales. So, where is the data supporting your claim that I've 'surpassed' Mr. Giron? Shouldn't your profession require you to speak with more accuracy?" Her calm yet sharp response sent a chill through the reporter. Aurora's gaze, though devoid of anger, carried an undeniable intensity. Young as she was, her composure and commanding presence were formidable. It felt like standing before a powerful figure, and the reporter's confidence wavered.

"My apologies. I misspoke," the reporter stammered, caught off guard.

Aurora smiled faintly. "Success means different things to different people. Perfumers are artists, and every bottle of perfis the result of countless trials and heartfelt effort. The fact that it even reaches you is already a success. It carries the perfumer's dedication and blessings." From that point on, Aurora deflected every question with poise and grace. She had no interest in exploiting her connection with Marcos to fuel gossip. Stirring unnecessary had never been her style.

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