Chapter 2: Fashionable Flames

Sylvania watched him for a second, and then she switched on the TV. The news came on right away.

"Breaking news: A large fire has broken out at Abibba’s commercial house in downtown New Haven. Firefighters are on the scene."

Her eyes widened. Abibba House? She had no time to think about it. With a little look at the clock, she knew she was running late.

“Damn!” Sylvania muttered, rushing to the bathroom for a quick shower.

After getting dressed in a white, fitting dress and heels, she checked herself in the mirror. With a swipe of red lipstick and she was ready to go. She grabbed her bag and patted Coco one last time before heading out. Climbing into her beautiful black Benz, she drove off to Style Studios, and she was willing to be there on time.

In another part of the city, Zagaff Manscent, also known as “The Don,” sat in his office, sipping wine and thinking about how to expand his power in New Haven. The police were a big problem, but he knew he had to find a way to show them he was in control.

He turned to his laptop and opened an email with a video attachment labeled “Abibba.” Clicking on it, Zagaff leaned forward as the black-and-white footage showed his men moving through Abibba’s corridors. They worked quickly, emptying safes filled with cash. One of them lit a match and threw it into a pile of papers, setting everything on fire.

Zagaff smiled. My men did well. They had sent a message; one that Victor Morano wouldn’t ignore.

Victor, a powerful mafia figure, had once tried to get rid of him. He hired a hitman to kill Zagaff at a business gala, making it look like a robbery. But the plan failed, and that Zagaff survived.

Now, he was just returning the favor. Victor will soon know who truly runs this city.

Sylvania stepped into Style Studios, her heels clicking on the shiny floor. The room was alive with movement as designers bent over their sketches, hands flying across pages, while models walked up and down the runway, practicing their steps. The air smelled of fabric, new leather, and fresh coffee.

She walked in with a smile, her white dress catching the light, and everyone turned around just to look at her.

“Wow, Sylvania!” Vivian’s eyes lit up. “You look stunning!”

Josh whistled. “That dress is made for you. You shine in white.”

Sylvania laughed, twirling slightly. “I couldn’t help myself. It felt like a wear-this-now kind of day.”

Vivian ran a hand over the beaded area of the dress. “It sparkles like stars. You look like a queen.”

Sylvania grinned, enjoying the moment. But then, Vivian’s face grew serious.

“Did you hear about Abibba House?” she asked.

Josh’s smile faded. “Yeah, I heard. Was it bad?”

Sylvania nodded. “I saw the news this morning. The fire looked serious.”

A sharp gasp broke the air.

Anita’s hands flew to her mouth. “My sister…Amanda! She was working the night shift!”

The noise of the studio disappeared.

Anita’s fingers fumbled as she grabbed her phone. She quickly pressed the call button when she had found Amanda’s name.

It rang continuously and there was no answer. She swallowed hard and called again, but still nothing.

Her hands shook. “Come on, Amanda… pick up.”

Josh leaned closer. “Try texting her.”

Anita’s breath came fast, her fingers tapping quickly on the screen.

Amanda, are you okay? Please call me.

She hit send, staring at the phone waiting for it to buzz.

Sylvania placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “The news said no one was hurt. She’s probably okay.”

Anita nodded, but her eyes stayed locked on her phone.

Minutes passed. The sound of sewing machines, typing, and chatter filled the room again. But Anita wasn’t listening. She dialed Tony, Amanda’s husband who picked up at the first ring.

“Tony?” Her voice cracked. “Is Amanda okay? She won’t answer, and I’m scared.”

“She’s safe, Anita,” Tony said. “She’s at the police station.”

Anita’s stomach clenched. “The police? Why?”

Tony sighed. “Some guys forced her to open the safes. She’s not in trouble, but the police need her statement.”

Relief hit Anita so hard she had to sit down. Her legs felt weak. “Oh, thank God.”

“She’s fine,” Tony assured her. “She’ll be home soon.”

Anita hung up and quickly typed a message to the group.

Amanda’s safe! She’s at the police station but okay.

Sylvania’s phone buzzed. She read the message and let out a deep breath.

Thank God! So glad she’s okay. Let us know if you need anything.

She set her phone down and turned to her desk. Rolls of fabric lay open, soft silk draping over the table. She ran her fingers over a rich blue piece, picturing it flowing down the runway at New Haven Fashion Week.