Chapter 709 By Any Means Necessary
Oliver extinguished the remainder of his cigarette and approached her.
"Where did you go?"
Natalie woke up as expected, and as Oliver settled beside her, she subconsciously nestled into his arms.
Oliver instinctively stopped her from getting closer.
"You smoked?" the half-awake Natalie muttered with a hint of disgust.
"Do you dislike it?" Oliver asked. In fact, he knew Natalie found the scent of smoke unpleasant, so he made an effort to smoke less around her and never in her presence. He merely wished to hear her voice.
Yet, no response came.
Soon, the woman in his embrace resumed deep, steady breathing, indicating she had fallen back into a deep slumber.
"Natalie?" Oliver whispered, his fingertips delicately tracing her eyebrows and eyes, radiating tenderness and affection. Assured she was asleep, he murmured, "You won’t hold this against me, will you?"
After a brief pause, Oliver chuckled, his laughter tinged with self-derision.
“What’s the use in holding it against me? You understand, I’m not a man of virtue. I’m prepared to do whatever is necessary for you to stay by my side.”
"Sweet dreams, my love."
He concluded with a gentle kiss on her forehead.
…
The day before, Natalie had slept early and rested well. The following morning, she experienced a slight abdominal discomfort but observed no indications of her menstrual cycle, making her wonder if it was due to overeating the night before.
"I’ll drive you," Oliver offered after breakfast, having waited for Natalie to finish her meal, he reached for the car keys.
"There’s no need; it’s not far," Natalie quickly declined without much thought, "It’s only a twenty-minute walk. Moreover, there are shuttle buses."
The estate was expansive, equipped with scheduled shuttle buses to accommodate the mobility of its residents and visitors alike.
"Are you worried Joseph would see you?" Oliver suddenly asked.
"What does Joseph have to do with any of this?" Natalie responded, puzzled and wary. She wondered if he was feeling jealous again.
"Since you’re not worried about being seen, let me drive you.”
Seizing the moment, Oliver picked up Natalie's handbag and instinctively moved to offer her his other hand for support. However, he hesitated midway, as was his habit, and withdrew his hand. His attention then shifted to Natalie's footwear before he said, “Change your shoes.”
Natalie looked down at her shoes, the latest Dior model of the year, which perfectly complemented the patchwork dress she had chosen for the day.
"Why?" she asked, puzzled, "You were the one who bought these shoes for me."
She wondered if Oliver had forgotten he had purchased the shoes for her and was now expressing dissatisfaction with her choice to wear them.
"Please put on a pair of flats," Oliver advised, pausing briefly before continuing, "You’re attending as a mentor and judge, not as a model."
"Mr. Windsor, wearing high heels is considered a requisite trait for models," Natalie felt obliged to point out.
"Today, you’re a mentor, not a model; that trait is not necessary," Oliver insisted, "It’s fine to be unconventional."
"What sort of reasoning is that?" Natalie cast a perplexed glance at Oliver but refrained from further comment. She proceeded to open the shoe cabinet in search of a more appropriate pair of shoes. Indeed, flats were significantly more comfortable than high heels.
Considering most of the models, particularly the males, were taller than her, Natalie reasoned that with or without heels, she would still be shorter than them anyway. Moreover, Oliver's perspective was valid. She was participating as a mentor, not as a model. The ‘Supermodel’ competition placed a high value on the distinctiveness and idiosyncrasies of each mentor. There had been a mentor in the past, a supermodel who preferred being barefoot and frequently did so during the contest, even donning flip-flops.
"How about this pair?" Natalie selected a pair of white ballet flats.
Observing her choice of attire for the day, Oliver suggested a pair of red flats instead, handing them to Natalie.
"The red ones seem a bit too bold," Natalie remarked, although the color and style were in harmony with her dress.
Oliver laughed. "Mrs. Windsor, are you trying to be low-key?"
…
Oliver drove a different car from the one he drove yesterday. He opted for an Aston Martin instead.
"Be careful. Don’t get injured,” Oliver cautioned Natalie as she prepared to exit the car.
Natalie acknowledged with a nod.
"There’s another matter."
"?"
"Keep your distance from Joseph," Oliver said.
Natalie regarded him with a disdainful look. "You know about Joseph and Emily’s unusual relationship. Don’t you think you’re overthinking things?”
Oliver gently tucked a strand of hair behind Natalie's ear and said nonchalantly, “Just keep a distance from him. I don’t like seeing other men with you. Surely you don’t want him to be targeted by me like how Samuel targeted him in the past, right?”
…
Natalie stayed outside, so she was the last to arrive at the venue.
This time, the competition featured a total of five mentors. Apart from Cocker, Joseph, and Natalie, the other two were men in their forties and fifties respectively.
One of them was Melvin. He had shoulder-length curly hair and was a distinguished fashion photographer. The other, Innes, appeared somewhat less fit but exuded a strong fashion sense. Formerly a director of a premier fashion show, he had since stepped back from the limelight.
Contrastingly, Cocker, Joseph, and Natalie were recognized as the vanguard of the new supermodel generation. They were designated to instruct the contestants directly in this competition, while Melvin and Innes were to serve strictly as judges, thereby lending greater significance to their evaluations.
All five, being notable figures within the fashion industry, were familiar with each other's reputations, if not personally acquainted. Following cordial introductions, they proceeded to meet the contestants.
Natalie stole a covert glance at Joseph; this was the closest she had ever been to him.
At nearly 30 years old, Joseph maintained an appearance strikingly younger, resembling someone in their mid-twenties. His height was notable, approximately 6'4" or 6'5". His features were attractive, a beautiful blend of the East and the West. His figure, adhering to the golden ratio, looked flawless in his minimalist attire—a long white shirt that exuded style and elegance.
"Joseph," Natalie called out. To ensure privacy, she lowered her voice before she continued, “I want to thank you. I’m not sure if you remember, but I’m talking about the incident a few months back.”
Joseph cast a brief glance at Natalie. His demeanor bore an inherent haughtiness, tinged with a measure of disinterest, which suggested that he was someone to be admired from afar rather than approached closely. Despite this, his arrogance did not make him unlikeable.
It was evident, considering both his physical appeal and personality, that Joseph was impeccably suited for the modeling industry.
"You’re welcome," he responded, his gaze lowered, signaling a reluctance to engage further with Natalie.
Natalie, feeling somewhat awkward, contemplated Joseph's distant behavior. His apparent disinterest in fostering any relationship puzzled her, making her wonder why he had chosen to defend her previously.
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