The Demon’s Claim

Moans and groans echoed through Odetta's kitchen, the sound of unbridled passion.

Saskia writhing in ecstasy, was lost in her desires.

One of Odetta's men, his hands roaming freely, gripped Saskia's breast as he thrust into her mercilessly. Saskia's cries grew louder, her body arching in pleasure.

Her sex addiction consumed her, driving her to seek solace in carnal delights.

As the intensity built, Saskia's gasps quickened. Her partner's grunts mingled with hers, creating a symphony of lust.

Odetta entered the kitchen, unsurprised by the scene before her, "In my kitchen, really?" She said annoyance lacing her voice.

Saskia's lips curled into a sly smile, "Just having a little fun Odie."

The guard, lost in lust, didn't notice Odetta's arrival. His eyes widened when he saw her, and hastily dressed, avoiding eye contact, he swiftly exited.

Saskia, still naked, glares at Odetta, annoyance etched on her face, and irritation lacing her voice, "I thought you were asleep."

Odetta leaned against the counter, arms crossed, "In my kitchen!"

Saskia shrugged, nonchalant, and began searching for food, "I just needed it, I can't help it."

"Seriously, Saskia? A bodyguard?" Odetta's tone mixes disappointment snd frustration.

Saskia shrugged bring into an apple.

Odetta shook her head, "get a man, Sas. Just settle down already. I won't even be surprised if you contract an STD."

Saskia bit into an apple, her expression unrepentant, "I want to explore, not tied to some guy. I'm never making that mistake agsin. Some men are just jerks." She rolled her eyes.

...

.....

Odetta strode out of her apartment, commanding attention. Her black curve-hugging suit gown showcased her tone physique, while her cleavage drew admiring glances from her guards. Yves saint laurent heels clicked against the floor, complemented by a matching handbag. Black shades added an air of mystery.

"Slayyyyyyy Odie!" Saskia called out now fully dressed.

Odetta flashed a smile, "get a man, bitch!" She winked as she slid into her sleek buggati, it's black leather interior enveloping her.

One of her bodyguards, Marcus, held the door open, his gaze lingering on her curves.

As they drove, Odetta checked her schedule. A packed day of meetings and preparations lay ahead.

"Marcus drop me at the office," she instructed.

Odetta's Bugatti pulled up to the office building, but before Marcus could open the door, paparazzi swarmed around the vehicle. Cameras flashed, and reporters shouted questions.

"Odetta, what happened with Tyler?"

"Is it true he cheated?"

"Did you break up with him over his scandal?"

Odetta's expression remained poised, but her heart raced, she hadn't prepared for this.

Marcus swiftly exited from the car and shielded Odetta from the chaos, "Let's go, miss Odetta."

Odetta stepped out, her heels clicking on the pavement. She smiled graciously, navigating the sea of cameras.

A reporter thrust a microphone forward, "Odetta, sources claim Tyler's infidelity ended your relationship. Care to confirm?"

Odetta's gaze locked onto the reporter, her voice steady, "My personal life is private. I'm focused on my work and commitments."

The paparazzi persisted but Odetta maintained her composure. Marcus escorted her into the building, the headquarters of her fashion empire, Elysée…his sharp eyes scanned the lobby, before shutting the door behind her.

Odetta exhaled deeply, and made her way across the lobby, her heels clicking on the polished marble floor. She passed by the sleek, minimalist reception desk, where a friendly face greeted her with a smile. The elevator, with its brushed steel doors, and subtle LED lighting, stood waiting nearby.

Odetta stepped inside, and the doors door shut behind her, enveloping her in a soft, pulsing glow. The elevator began its smooth ascent to the top floor, where her modern workspace awaited.

The door slid open on the top floor, revealing a sleek and modern workspace that was bustling with activity. Odetta's team of designers, pattern makers, and seamstress were all hard at work, creating the next big thing in fashion.

As she entered, every head turned to gaze at her. Her black jumpsuit hugged her curves perfectly. Her flawless skin, razor-sharp cheekbones, and full lips, Odetta exuded an aura of confidence and sophistication.

Her employees, both male and female, couldn't help but stare.

The women admiring her poise and beauty, wishing they could emulate her success and style. The men on the other hand, were drawn to her captivating presence.

As she made her way to her office, she greeted her employees with a warm smile. Her signature catwalk, a fusion of sass and elegance, left a trail of admiration in her wake.

Her workers respected her immensely, not just for her incredible talent but also for her kindness and generosity. However, they also knew that Odetta had high standards, and if those standards weren't met, she wouldn't hesitate to express her displeasure.

Just as she entered her office, her assistant, Jenny, rushed in, looking excited, "Miss, we have a call from Jen Rausch, Angelina Jolie's stylist," she announced, holding the phone.

Odetta's eyes sparkled with interest as she took the phone from Jenny, "Jen, darling! How are you?" She asked, her voice warm and inviting.

"Odetta, I'm fabulous, thanks for asking," Jen replied, "I'm calling because Angelina needs a show-stopping gown for the Oscar's, and we immediately thought of you,"

"I'm intrigued," she said, her mind already racing with ideas, "what's the theme or inspiration Angelina has in mind?"

"I'm thinking of a classic hollywood glamour looks with a modern twist," Jen said, "Angelina wants a gown that's both sophisticated and daring. She's leaning towards a bold, jewel-toned color, perhaps emerald green, or sapphire blue.

Odetta's mind began to whirl with ideas, "I love it," she said, "I can see it now-a flowing, floor length gown with intricate beading and embroidery. The emerald green would be stunning against Angelina's skin tone."

"Exactly!" Jen exclaimed, "and Angelina wants the gown to have a bit of edgy feel to it. Maybe some subtle cut-outs or a daring thigh-high slit."

Odetta's eyes sparked with excitement, "I can make that happen," she said, "I'll send over some sketches and fabric swatches for Angelina to review."

"Sounds perfect," Jen replied.

"We'll schedule a fitting for next week."

As soon as the call ended, Odetta turned to Jenny, "Jenny, I need damage control," her voice firm.

"Already on it, miss Odetta," Jenny replied. "Your PR team is drafting a statement."

Odetta sighed, feeling a headache coming on. She has a long day ahead of her, dealing with the media and designing a gown for the Oscar's.

She was the the go-to designer for A-list celebrities, and this Oscar's season was no exception. Not only was she creating a custom design for Angelina, but she was also working on outfits for other high profile clients.

Zendaya had commissioned a fairytale-inspired Cinderella dress, complete with intricate lace details and a dramatic train.

Odetta's team was working tirelessly to bring the design to life.

In addition to Angelina and Zendaya, Odetta was also designing custom looks for a few other celebrities, including a show-stopping number of actress Scarlett Johansson, and a sleek tuxedo for actor, Michael B Jordan. With so many high-profile clients to cater to, Odetta's fashion empire was buzzing with activity as her team worked to meet the tight deadline.

Jenny handed her a schedule for the day, "You have a meeting with vogue's Anna Wintour to discuss the upcoming met gala, followed by a fitting with supermodel, Naomi Campbell, for the new Elysée campaign.

Odetta's eyes scanned the schedule, her mind racing with task ahead.

She also has a meeting with her textile designer to finalize the fabrics for the Oscar's gown, and a conference call with her production team to discuss the logistics of the fashion show.

"Jenny, can you please get me a coffee and some ibuprofen?" She asked rubbing her temples. "It's going to be a long day."