A letter to the post man

I walked into the ballroom with as much poise as I could muster, feeling the weight of countless eyes on me. Every head turned in my direction, their gazes heavy and unrelenting. My steps faltered under the intensity, my confidence wavering.

The murmurs grew louder when Mr. Khan stepped forward, his voice commanding yet warm as he introduced me to the crowd.

"Please welcome Reina, our newest model at Vulgari."

A wave of applause rippled through the room, followed by cheers and exclamations of admiration for my beauty. My cheeks flushed, though the mask I wore hid some of my discomfort.

Then came the cameras. Flashes erupted from all directions, blinding and overwhelming. I stood frozen in place, unsure of how to pose or where to look.

As soon as the photographers turned their attention elsewhere, I took the opportunity to excuse myself, murmuring something about needing a drink. I didn't even know how to drink wine, but I needed an excuse to move around and escape the spotlight.

For what felt like ages, I wandered aimlessly, feeling like a mannequin on display. Eventually, I found myself outside in the fresh evening air, drawn to the gazebo and the stunning fountain nearby.

The water cascaded gracefully, sparkling under the soft lights, each droplet shimmering like a pearl. Mesmerized, I stepped closer, wanting to admire it up close.

Lost in the beauty of the fountain, I failed to notice someone in my path until I bumped into them. My mask slipped off and fell to the ground.

"I'm so sorry," I said quickly, bending to retrieve it.

The man turned to face me, a faint smile playing on his lips. His expression was calm yet mysterious, his presence commanding.

I recognized that smile. It was enigmatic and oddly familiar, though I couldn't quite place where I'd seen it before. He wore an elegant mask that concealed part of his face, but his aura—dark, confident, and magnetic—was unmistakable.

I smiled back at him hesitantly.

Without a word, he started to walk away.

"Wait!" I called out instinctively, my voice echoing slightly in the still night.

He paused, then turned slightly, his dark eyes studying me. "Little girl, what else do you want?"

That voice. I knew that voice. It struck a chord deep within my memory.

I studied him more closely—his long black hair tied neatly at the back, his sharp features, and his towering, commanding presence. It suddenly clicked.

"The mysterious man with the horse," I whispered, almost to myself. "Snowball."

He smiled again, a knowing glint in his eye.

"You look very familiar," I said aloud, my voice steadier now.

His smile widened slightly, and there was a playful edge to his tone when he replied, "Reina, how could you be so ungrateful?"

The pieces fell into place. My heart skipped a beat as I realized it was him.

"Thank you," I said hurriedly, my words tumbling out in a rush. "I'm so sorry for bumping into you."

I hesitated for a moment before asking, "What's your name?"

He looked at me with amusement dancing in his eyes. "Oh, little girl, I am Nath."

"Nath?" I repeated, frowning slightly. "So you're Nathaniel?"

He laughed, a deep, rich sound that sent a shiver down my spine.

"I am just Nath, not Nathaniel," he said with a smirk before turning and walking away, leaving me standing there, my heart racing.

He removed his eye mask, revealing even more of his captivating features, and walked back into the ballroom with an air of effortless confidence. My gaze followed him, unable to look away. There was something about him—his presence, his aura—that made my heart race.

But I quickly shook the thought away. My brother's words echoed in my mind: "Don't let love distract you." I couldn't afford to lose focus now, not when I was so close to achieving my goals.

Determined to suppress my thoughts, I composed myself and returned to the ballroom.

Inside, Mr. Khan's voice boomed across the room as he addressed the crowd. "Ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce my future son-in-law, Nath Anderson."

The announcement didn't surprise me. Of course, someone like Nath—handsome, composed, and clearly successful—was engaged to someone of equal stature. Mr. Khan's daughter must be remarkable to have captured his attention.

Yet, as I glanced around, I realized she wasn't present. Mr. Khan's daughter was nowhere to be found, an absence that seemed odd given the occasion.

Before I could dwell on it, Mr. Khan approached me with a warm smile and extended his hand. "Reina, would you do me the honor of a dance?"

I nodded, smiling politely. "Of course."

We swayed gracefully to the music, his demeanor kind and fatherly. But our dance was cut short when his phone buzzed with an urgent call. Apologizing, he stepped away, leaving me standing there awkwardly.

It was then that Nath appeared before me, his hand outstretched.

"May I have this dance?" he asked, his voice deep and steady.

I hesitated for a moment, then placed my hand in his. "Yes."

The music slowed, and we moved in sync. His touch was firm yet gentle, and his movements were fluid, as if he had been dancing his whole life. He swirled me around effortlessly, picking me up as if I weighed nothing.

The room seemed to fade away. The moment felt surreal, almost magical, as if we were the only two people there.

When the music stopped, Nath released me, his intense gaze locked on mine.

"So, how old are you, little girl?" he asked suddenly, his tone light but teasing.

I frowned, pulling back slightly. "I'm 18. And please stop calling me little. My name is Reina."

He smirked, ignoring my protest. "Little girl, I don't think you understand who you're exchanging words with."

Before I could respond, he pulled a card from his pocket and shoved it into my hand.

"Here. Take this," he said curtly and turned to leave.

I stared at the card for a long moment, puzzled. Eventually, my driver arrived to pick me up, and I returned to my apartment.

That night, as I lay in bed, I remembered the card Nath had given me. Reaching for it, I read the details carefully. It was a business card for his architectural company, named after his father, Joel Anderson.

Curious, I searched for more information about him. His reputation was as impressive as his presence—he had taken over the Anderson business three years ago, transforming it into one of the top architectural firms. Their designs were renowned for their unique, gothic aesthetics.

I also learned about his family. His father, Joel, was a stoic and influential figure, while his mother had been bedridden for five years. Nath's engagement to Mr. Khan's daughter, Catharine, was the talk of the region. Their union was not just romantic but also a strategic business alliance.

Catharine was admired by many. Despite her privileged background, she devoted much of her time to rescuing endangered animals, traveling extensively to support wildlife conservation. She and Nath were seen as the perfect couple, their relationship celebrated by the public.

As I lay there, I couldn't help but admire them from afar. They were everything people aspired to be—successful, kind, and admired by all.

But I quickly reminded myself of my goals. Tomorrow marked the start of my rigorous modeling training, and I needed to focus.

The next morning, I dressed for the studio, my determination renewed. Mr. Timothy welcomed me warmly and began showing me around.

"Modeling is an art of elegance and poise," he said, guiding me through the process with patience.

Over the next month, he trained me meticulously. I learned how to walk with grace, speak with sophistication, and present myself with confidence. Every step was challenging but rewarding.

By the end of the month, I felt like a completely different person. I was no longer the hesitant girl who stumbled into this world—I was ready for the runway, ready to take the first step toward my new life.

I arrived at work early one Tuesday, as usual, and decided to start the day with a light workout. As I was finishing up, the sound of clapping startled me. I froze, wondering who else could possibly be at work so early.

Turning toward the sound, I was stunned to see her. Catharine.

I quickly hurried over, extending my hand and shaking hers with nervous enthusiasm. For good measure, I even curtsied slightly, feeling a bit flustered in her presence.

She laughed, her voice light and melodic. "You don't need to treat me like a princess," she said, her smile warm and genuine.

I straightened myself, embarrassed but determined to make a good impression. "Lady Catharine, it's such an honor to meet you. How may I serve you today?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

Her laughter grew louder, and she waved her hand dismissively. "My Timothy has clearly taught you well—even how to speak so formally! Chill, girl. You can just call me Catharine."

Her easygoing nature put me at ease, and I found myself smiling.

She then asked, "What's your name?"

"Reina," I replied.

"Well, Reina," she said with a kind smile, "how about grabbing a coffee with me?"

Without hesitation, I slipped on my coat, and together, we headed out for coffee.

That morning changed everything. Catharine was nothing like I had imagined. Despite her status and beauty, she was down-to-earth, warm, and sweet. I instantly felt comfortable around her, and from that day on, we grew closer with each passing week.

Over time, she opened up to me about her life. She shared her passion for rescuing endangered animals, her extensive travels, and the challenges of being in the public eye. I admired her even more with every story she told.

Meanwhile, my career as a model was taking off. Mr. Khan paid me generously, and I made sure to send half of my earnings to Alex every month. Knowing I was helping my siblings kept me motivated, even as the work grew more demanding.

Catharine always supported me, cheering me on during shoots and offering advice whenever I felt overwhelmed. She became more than just a friend—she was like an older sister to me.

Soon, my face was everywhere. I appeared on the covers of magazines and in newspapers. The northern lands were buzzing about the new model who had taken the industry by storm.

But with fame came challenges. I couldn't walk down the street without being recognized. People would stop me for pictures, and the constant attention was overwhelming at times.

Still, I reminded myself why I was here—for Alex, for our sister, and for a better future. And with Catharine by my side, I knew I could handle whatever came my way.