The Marked One (The Marked Series Book 1) Read Online Free Page A

have women who have never even had a proper pimple mark their faces represent them to gain clients. It makes the product look even better. Do you understand?”
    Aaliyah looked at the wall behind Ms. Johns, where the last few years’ advertising campaigns decorated an otherwise empty space. She spotted the one where the woman had a scar on her cheek in the before photo and in the after, it was gone. It was that particular advertisement that made Aaliyah reach for this product every single day, but now she saw the truth.
    Even if the product worked, they all showed the norm. They showed markless, smooth, Photoshopped faces of what society wanted everyone to be.
    What she wasn’t.
    “Yes, I understand. I understand this interview was highly influenced by the way I look. And while the company is searching for a certain look, one that isn’t mine, it is clear that you aren’t the type of company I ever want to be associated with.” She found her feet, her handbag tucked under her arm and her notes in her hands. “Thank you for your time, Ms. Johns, but I never had pimples.” She nodded at the woman and headed out of the office.
    The main office area seemed calmer and the women were scattered about at their desks, but they all looked at her as she walked out. Being the receptionist and later maybe a distributing consultant for this company had seemed appropriate, as she truly believed in the product. Selling what you believed in was always better than not. But she had been too hopeful and that was her greatest weakness.
     
    ***
     
    Tristan
     
    Tristan looked at the caller ID on his cell phone as he got into the town car. His assistant, Ivan, was still somewhere in the building grabbing contracts that needed to be signed, before they both headed to meet up with a business associate for brunch.
    “Hello, Father,” he chimed.
    “Well done, son, I’m impressed. How ever did you manage to buy out all of Feldman’s stocks from the Craigs Company?” His father’s tone held glee he obviously didn’t care to hide. He’d wanted those stocks for years now.
    “ Persuasione . Motivazione .”
    “ Resistenza ,” his father completed their little rhyme in Italian, which translated to: Persuasion. Motivation. Endurance. Tristan looked at the building’s entrance to check if Ivan was nearby, only to spot a woman leaving the building looking truly furious. She was walking down the few steps at the entrance, her head held low. Her long dark brown hair made it impossible for Tristan to see her face, as it created a small protective curtain, but he didn’t like seeing anyone leave one of his buildings acting in such a manner. It gave the wrong impression.
    She stopped a few metres away from his car, shaking her head to herself as she looked at the ground. He got out of the car because he wanted to know why she was looking so furious. If it had been a client who had irritated her, she needed to know that was how the world worked in business. If her boss had treated her unfairly, it needed to be reported.
    Every company in the Gerardo Corporations building was owned by his family, and any company causing trouble made his family’s good name look bad.
    “Son, are you still there?” his father asked, concern filling his tone as the woman turned to face the building. She said something that he could barely hear, but he did make out the Gerardo motto paired with lies. She spoke in an accent he couldn’t figure out, which played with the words in an odd fashion.
    “Yes, just a little issue.” A man passing her on the hectic sidewalk seemed to say something to offend her. “I’ll call you back in a moment,” he told his father and ended the call.
    The woman took in whatever the man had told her and kept looking at him as he walked in Tristan’s direction. When she faced him, he understood why the man said something she disliked. It was likely the reason why people were staring. Initially, he thought all the eyes on her was