THE BILLIONAIRE SECRET DEAL

The atmosphere at Sofia Collins's art studio was exceptionally fumed with the stale stench of turpentine and a slight odor of canvas. The room was alive with color: some artists' pieces were left half painted and stacked against the wall while others had paintings hanging on easels with thick red and blue decorations in rusty brown wooden stands. The chair, on which sat Sofia, was so frail that one could guess it could wobble at any given minute while the brush she held was dipped into the pot of the green paint, coming out as steady but racing inside her head.

This piece had to be perfect. The breakthrough strokes-ambition/desperation-fueled her as she labored over the centerpiece for her first solo show.

For the final time in her life, the gallery exhibit was the only opportunity for her to make her mark in the city filled with talent and apathy.

Her phone rang, and she was immediately alert. She glanced at the screen.

"Unknown Number."

Turning away, she shook her head and sighed before replying, bringing a cloth to her hands.

"Ms. Collins?" A cold, inflected voice was waiting for her.

"Yes, speaking."

"This is Karen Whitley from the Stanton Gallery. I have some good news. I know because the arrangements you made for the exhibit are for next month."

Sofia gasped and nearly slipped out of the phone. It was for this very Stanton Gallery for which she had been chasing for years, its name something of a glory for the art scene in Manhattan.

"Uh... incredible," Sofia stammered out. "Thank you so much."

He waited for her to go on and then said in her most official, granite voice, "There is a detail." "This gallery has recently been bought by someone new, and the owner is very keen to be involved in the organization of all future shows."

Sofia frowned. "Who's the new owner?"

There was a momentary pause, then Karen responded, "Austin Reed."

Sofia was astounded by the name as if someone had blown a gust of cold wind over her. The egotistical, often ruthless, Austin Reed, the billionaire who made the headlines almost on a daily basis. A known figure in hostile takeovers and ruthless negotiations; a complete personification of everything Sofia despised about the corporate world.

"Is that going to be a problem?" Karen asked.

Sofia hesitated. It was impossible for her not to help. This was her only job, and even if she felt some displeasure, she would endure all that was required for this show to be successful.

"Not a problem," replied Sofia, fear in her voice more evident than before. The next afternoon, riding the elevator to the upper floor of Austin Reed's penthouse felt like years. Sofia clutched a portfolio of sketches to her bosom as if it were an armor and was still filled with a combination of adrenaline-like feelings of excitement and fear.

As the doors of the lift opened halfway, Sofia entered a room that was beyond vulgar and kitsch it was vulgar luxury. Manhattan skyline views visible through large glass panels were on all the walls around us. It was cold, and the sun was pale, but otherwise it was a fine winter day in Mildura, as the light illuminating the city suggests. All furniture was modern with black and white color combinations; a light and pleasant smell of cedar and leather could be detected.

And there he was.

Austin Reed leaned against the windows; his figure was visible He stood Tall broad shouldered and impeccably clad Austin Reed was the epitome of power and authority. Sofia stared into his jagged gray eyes when he turned to her and she saw the hatred.

"Ms. Collins," he said in fluent English, speaking and extending his hand.

Sofia was able to smile and take his hand, her eyes narrowing at her, but his grip was firm and not painful.

"Mr. Reed," she replied, calm as she spoke to him.

"You won't get an earful," Austin said, offering her the clean leather couch in the company's office. He was opposite her, in a casual yet authoritative position. "They have reviewed your portfolio, and they see they have something in you, but they also see that they are putting your life at risk." This is the prestige of the gallery, and I want you to solemnly swear to me that you will get the job done."

Sofia always hated his direct approach but kept her face diplomatic. Well, I've prepared for months on this show, Mr. Reed. My work speaks for itself."

Austin's face twisted itself into a bittersweet smile with his lips still closed. 'Passion, Ms. Collins?' She snorts softly, 'Passion is fine, but this is business.' So, "passion alone doesn't pay the bills."

Such nerve to make such a comment made the fire in Sofia's chest sizzle, but she said nothing. She didn't reply, but she stepped closer and looked him in the eye.

With all due respect, Mr. Reed, if you did not believe in my work, we would not have this conversation.

This Austin's expression seemed to change a little when he closed his eyes halfway, part of correction. "Fair point," he conceded. "But let's be clear. This is not simply you, your art, or anything you, as an artist, may do. It's about the future of the gallery, my investment, and our joint business venture."

"Mutual?" Sofia repeated and simply arched an eyebrow.

"Yes," Austin replied to him shortly. You may not like my methods, but I didn't climb to this position by being sentimental. Somehow the situation has reached a point where, if we're going to make this work, you need to trust my judgment.

"Trust?" Sarcasm was clearly dripping off Sofia's lips. I remember she said, "That's quite a bit to ask of someone I just met." Austin leaned back, and his face had no expression. "Trust has to be earned, Ms. Collins," He slid one document across the coffee table, and all of a sudden the bright white paper with the black writing looked almost mocking. Sofia read the terms, feeling her stomach do flip-flops. Austin also contracted creative control over the exhibit to a large extent, a term that irked her.

"You are getting too much control over things," she added while seriously looking at him. Austin shrugged. In regard to those, he said, "That is normal in such situations." You could always consider it as a backup plan-for both of us.

Sofia stood slowly to find herself fighting between her conscience and a once-in-a-lifetime chance. She hated the fact that even such a thought of compromising any inch of creativity was not okay, but then she could not afford to stay.

"Good," she said after a while, her voice sounding strained. "But don't think I will just agree with everything you do."

Austin nodded slightly and grinned sarcastically with a half-open mouth. "I wouldn't dream of it."

The contract was still fresh on Sofia's mind this time as she got back to the penthouse.

She had sealed the exhibit, but what was cheeky that was worth the price?

This was abruptly drowned out by the howling of the wind, and with taking her first step outside, she was in New York, Manhattan. Anna pulled her coat closed and decided that she would not let Austin gainsay her. She would teach him-and everyone else-that she didn't paint for profit alone.

What she could not know was this began the battle to come, which would also challenge her spirit and heart.