Chapter 13
Hot Mic, Cold Heart: The Billionaire's Ruin
The atelier hummed with a frantic, electric energy.
Bolts of raw silk, organza, and velvet were strewn across the massive cutting tables like casualties of a beautiful war. The air smelled of hot steam from the irons, fresh coffee, and the sharp, metallic tang of shears slicing through heavy fabri
Chapter 14
The night air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of crushed pine needles and expensive perfume.
Backstage—a massive, heated luxury tent erected just outside the glass conservatory—was a symphony of beautiful, organized chaos. Hairdryers roared, makeup brushes flew across cheekbones, and dressers
Chapter 15
The morning sun poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Elena’s new studio, illuminating the space in a brilliant, golden wash.
The atmosphere was entirely different from the frantic energy of the night before. Today, the studio felt like a sanctuary. Elena sat behind her massive glass desk