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Chapter17: A Name for a Guardian
Veröffentlichungsdatum:
30.08.2026 18:44:21
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My Statue Husband Chapter 61: The Magic Tapestry
Vivian povThe backstage of the Grand Palais smelled of burnt hairspray, ozone, and impending ruin.Around me, models floated past like tall, elegant ghosts, wrapped in silk and organza, their steps practiced and hollow. Down the long, fluorescent-lit hallway, the muffled roar of the crowd sounded like a hungry ocean waiting to be fed. In less than two hours, the Paris Fashion Week showcase would begin. This was supposed to be the coronation of my career—the culmination of seven sleepless years, ruined relationships, and cold cups of coffee at three in the morning.Instead, I was staring at a corpse.My fingers trembled as I reached out to touch the hem of the show's centerpiece gown. The dress—a custom gown woven from a rare, metallic silk blend meant to look like liquid starlight under the runway lamps—was disintegrating.There was no other word for it. The fibers, once tight and shimmering, were fraying before my eyes. Small, fine cobwebs of silver thread hung limply from the waist
My Statue Husband Chapter 60: Zara’s Bribe
Vivian povThe scent of scorched lavender and scorched silk was the first thing that warned me something was wrong.In high fashion, fabric didn’t just carry a color—it carried a soul. The Charmeuse silk I had sourced from the Lyon mills for the Final Showcase of the Apex Design Competition was supposed to feel like liquid glass, heavy enough to drape like water, light enough to breathe with a woman’s pulse.What lay spread across my cutting table did neither.I reached out, my fingers trembling slightly as I pinched a swatch of the ivory bolt between my thumb and forefinger. I didn’t even need to burn a scrap thread to test it. The texture was static, artificially slick, emitting a subtle, acrid chemical odor that set off an immediate alarm in the back of my mind.It was a synthetic blend. A cheap, highly flammable polyester-nylon compound that looked identical under the harsh fluorescent lights of the contestant prep hall, but would melt under the heat of a runway spotlight—or worse
My Statue Husband Chapter 59: Inspiration from Stone
Vivian povThe metallic tang of ozone hung thick in the air, biting at the back of my throat as the shattered glass from the water pitchers glinted on the studio floor. Nobody dared to move. The silence across the cavernous room was heavy, almost suffocating, punctuated only by the erratic, dying buzz of the overhead lights.My fingers remained frozen over the cutting table, pressed against the warm, thrumming metal of the copper chest-piece. The single drop of my blood had already vanished into the tarnished surface, and where red had met dark metal, tiny, spider-web fractures were creeping across the metal.Across the aisle, Stan stood motionless beside the judges' dais.For the first time since I’d known him, his unyielding composure had shattered. The deep golden light in his eyes flickered, darkened by a raw, visceral fear that made my stomach drop into a hollow pit. He hadn't come here to ruin my chances. He hadn't stepped onto this stage to humiliate me or treat me like a thief
My Statue Husband Chapter 58: The Semi-Final Challenge
Vivian povThe fluorescent lights of the studio hummed with a low, grating vibration that seemed to settle right behind my teeth. On the cutting table before me lay six yards of midnight-blue raw silk, smooth as liquid shadow, beside a tangle of weathered metallic thread—the few scraps of my grandmother’s estate I had managed to drag across borders and through years of desperate starting over.TIMELESS HERITAGEThe theme was etched onto a glass display board at the front of the hall, glowing in sharp, unforgiving white LED light. To the twenty-one other designers sweating through their linen shirts in the arena, it meant archives, antique lace, and clever reinterpretations of Victorian corsetry. To me, it felt like an invitation to dig up a grave.Around me, the frantic scraping of heavy steel shears against oak tables and the sharp clack-clack of tailor's chalk filled the cavernous room. Across the main aisle, Julian—the golden boy whose family owned half the silk mills in Lombardy—w
My Statue Husband Chapter 57: Denial And Resolved
Vivian povlow hum of fluorescent lights in the studio did nothing to warm the chill in my bones. Spread across the long mahogany drafting table were swatches of crushed velvet, silk chiffon, and the charred remnants of my spring collection sketchpad.Three hours ago, my lead workshop manager called to tell me the east wing of the atelier had suffered an electrical fire. Half of the prototype gowns for the upcoming Paris showcase—the showcase that was supposed to secure my brand's global expansion—were reduced to ash.I sank my palms onto the wooden edge, breathing through the acrid scent of smoke still clinging to my clothes. I had built Vivian Vance Couture from a tiny, basement apartment with nothing but a pair of shears, unpaid electric bills, and sheer spite. I wasn't going to let a bad wire ruin me. I couldn't.My phone buzzed against the table, the vibration rattling a silver tray of pins.I picked it up, expecting another frantic call from my press secretary. Instead, the scre
My Statue Husband Chapter 56: The Fullmoon Deadline
Vivian povThe moonlight didn't fall on Stan’s skin as it did on mine; it pooled in the cracks.I sat on the edge of the velvet sofa, my fingers trembling around a silver etching tool I hadn’t used since my last fashion line flopped. Across the room, Stan stood motionless near the French doors, bathed in the pale glow of the midnight sky. From a distance, he looked like a masterpiece—chiseled jaw, broad shoulders, a man carved by gods. But up close, if you dared to touch him, his flesh felt like cold marble.And tonight, the silence between us felt heavier than stone."You're hiding something," I said, my voice barely above a whisper, cracking under the weight of the dread that had been pooling in my chest all evening. "Stan, look at me. You haven't looked at me since the sun went down."He didn't turn around. His gaze remained locked on the sky outside, where the moon hung like a suspended crescent, sharp and unforgiving."Vivian," he began. His voice sounded lower than usual, carryi
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