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Chapter 73

Author: Nova Blaq
last update Petsa ng paglalathala: 2026-08-13 07:29:01

The first model walked.

The audience went quiet in the particular way that told you they were actually paying attention.

The first piece was from the partner house, one of their signature silhouettes reimagined through the lens of the collaboration. The applause when she turned at the end of the runway was warm and immediate.

Then the second look. This one was Nadia’s design. Someone in the third row lifted their phone. Then the person beside them. Then a buyer in the front row leaned forwar
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    Dorian’s POV My mind had stopped working completely somewhere between my mother opening the envelope and the room erupting around me. One thought was moving through my head, very slowly underneath all the noise. How? Everyone was watching me. I knew that. I could feel it even through the chaos of congratulations happening around us. My mother. Lena’s parents. My father, standing slightly apart from it all, watching me quietly. I forced a smile. “I…” I said. “I wasn’t expecting this.” Lena laughed, relieved. “Neither was I, honestly. Not this soon.” She slipped her arms around my waist and looked up at me, waiting. Everyone was still watching. “Say something,” she said softly. I pressed my lips to her forehead. I held them there for a second longer than I needed to. “I’m ecstatic,” I said. Everyone smiled. The conversations restarted. Nobody noticed how rigid my arms were when I held her. Except my father. I could feel him watching me from across the room, his expressio

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    Dorian POV I was buried in documents when my secretary knocked and told me my father wanted to see me. I assumed it was about the Henderson account. We had been going back and forth on the terms for two weeks and my father had opinions about the final numbers that he hadn’t fully voiced yet. I saved my work, straightened my jacket, and walked down the corridor toward his office with my mind already organizing the relevant figures. I walked in. My father was sitting behind his desk, not looking at documents, not on a call. Just sitting there with his phone in his hand and an expression I couldn’t immediately read. “Close the door,” he said. I did. “Sit down.” I sat. He looked at me for a second. “Is everything alright between you and your girlfriend?” I frowned. “Of course. Why?” He didn’t answer right away. He just turned his phone over and slid it across the desk toward me. I looked down at the screen. It was a message. From Lena. Sent to my father’s number. Mr. Hargrove

  • Falling For My Ex Husband’s Uncle Wasn’t Part Of My Plan    Chapter 75

    Dorian’s POV I almost turned around twice. Once at the corner two blocks away, where I sat at a red light with my hands on the steering wheel, genuinely reconsidering. Once again at the entrance to the parking garage, where I sat with the engine running for about a minute before finally getting out of the car. Inside, a receptionist behind the front desk looked up. “Good afternoon. Do you have an appointment?” “No,” I said. “I don’t. I’m a personal contact. Could you let her know Dorian Hargrove is here?” The receptionist’s expression didn’t change. “I’ll see if she’s available. One moment.” Then I had to wait. Standing in the lobby of Nadia’s building, in front of Nadia’s receptionist, beneath the logo of Nadia’s brand on the wall above the desk. I put my hands in my pockets and looked around the space and thought that this building, this entire professionally functioning world, had nothing to do with me in any way. That was an unusual feeling. She came down about five minu

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    Dorian POV The event should have been easy to forget. That’s what I kept telling myself, for the first day or two afterward. It was a work event, essentially. A business function I had attended because my name was on the guest list through a professional connection. I had watched a runway show, drunk champagne at a reception, and gone home. Simple. Forgettable. Except I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I sat through meetings, nodded at the right moments, signed off on reports that crossed my desk, answered emails that required my attention. Externally, nothing was different about my week. But every few minutes, without warning, my mind drifted back. The applause. The way it had grown louder after each look, building on itself. Nadia walking onto that runway and stopping for a second, blinded by the cameras, and then smiling. That real, unguarded smile that reached everywhere on her face at once. Everyone around her, congratulating her, reaching for her, wanting to be near the t

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    The first model walked. The audience went quiet in the particular way that told you they were actually paying attention. The first piece was from the partner house, one of their signature silhouettes reimagined through the lens of the collaboration. The applause when she turned at the end of the runway was warm and immediate. Then the second look. This one was Nadia’s design. Someone in the third row lifted their phone. Then the person beside them. Then a buyer in the front row leaned forward and began writing something in the small notebook they had been holding unopened since sitting down. By the fifth look, the editors were whispering to each other. Not distracted whispers. Engaged ones, the kind that meant they were already thinking about which image they wanted to lead with. By the eighth look, buyers were writing notes before they could second-guess themselves. The applause grew louder after each successive look, building gradually. The finale arrived. All the models cam

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