All Chapters of Trapped in my Sister's Wedding Vows: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

By the time evening arrived, the grand venue had completely transformed. Soft golden lights washed over the runway, reflecting gently off the mirror-polished floor like a liquid sunset. The rows of minimalist chairs that had looked so empty and terrifying earlier in the day were now filled, one row after another, as the doors opened. Conversations blended into a warm, buzzing hum of pure excitement. Outside the hall, a massive banner stretched across the entrance, the letters sharp and clean: MIREYA SUTTON - DEBUT COLLECTION. Inside, fashion lovers mingled with prominent business figures, professional stylists, boutique owners, bloggers, reporters, and eager students who simply adored clothing and design. Mireya had intentionally ensured this was not an exclusive event reserved only for the rich and powerful. Anyone who loved the art of fashion had come. Some guests wore bold, highly artistic outfits, eager to be noticed by the flashing cameras, while others came dressed elegantly,

By the second day of the academy program, Mireya realized something very important. Teaching was harder than designing. So much harder. Her workspace, usually a quiet sanctuary of structured thoughts and organized sketches, had turned into an arena of controlled chaos. One hundred and fifty aspiring designers filled everywhere, bringing a volatile mix of raw energy, jagged nerves, excitement, and fierce competition. The heavy hum of sewing machines was a constant vibration through the floorboards. Fabric scraps of every texture and hue littered the ground like confetti, and sketches were pinned over every available table. Voices overlapped in a frantic, overlapping chorus. "I need the fabric shears!" "Who took my measuring tape? It was right here!" "Wait, this sleeve layout is completely too short!" Diane stood near the main entrance with a heavy clipboard, watching the madness unfold with a calm, amused expression. She leaned slightly toward Mireya, raising her voice just enoug

The livestream ended just minutes later. Diane had been the one to finally remember they were still broadcasting to fifty thousand people and quickly cut the digital feed, laughing quietly to herself as the glowing studio monitors went dark. But the heavy moment lingered long after the lenses shut off. Even after the excited chatter of the newly accepted academy students filled the room again, Mireya still felt the warmth of Ronan's words vibrating in her chest. She had heard professional compliments before from staff, from demanding clients, and from prominent figures in the fashion industry. But what Ronan had just said before the world was entirely different. It hadn't sounded rehearsed. It hadn't sounded like he was doing it to keep up their image to the public. It sounded profoundly genuine. And that was the exact part that unsettled her the most. Ronan Ashcroft was not a man known for being gentle, warm, or openly supportive of anyone. At least, not in the version of him sh

Morning sunlight spilled across the wide windows of the academy studio, casting long shadows against the neat rows of white mannequins. For the first time in weeks, Mireya felt something close to absolute peace. The room was alive with a vibrant, electric rhythm. Aspiring designers moved around the floor in small groups, sketching ideas, adjusting paper patterns, and debating design elements with fierce enthusiasm. Some leaned heavily over the wide cutting tables while others practiced draping raw muslin fabric over dress forms. It was loud, messy, and intensely real. It was exactly how Mireya wanted it to look. She stood near the central worktable, carefully flipping through one of the primary students' sketchbooks. Her analytical eyes scanned the lines. "This particular silhouette is exceptionally good," Mireya said calmly, tapping the charcoal drawing on the page. "But the neckline feels entirely too safe." The student frowned slightly, her shoulders dropping. "Safe?" Mireya

The academy was completely quiet, but Mireya couldn't rest. She stood alone beside a mannequin, adjusting the folds of a midnight blue fabric over its shoulder. The past few days had been a nightmare. The plagiarism rumors online, the stolen fabrics and the suspicious whispers among her students. She had tried so hard to act strong and invulnerable in front of everyone, but tonight, the crushing weight of the exhaustion had finally caught up with her. But she refused to leave. If she backed down now, the academy would fail before it even started. "You're not giving up," she whispered to her reflection in the dark studio window. Then, a sharp, chemical smell hit her nose. Mireya froze. She turned around slowly and saw it, a thin haze of gray smoke creeping across the ceiling from the storage room hallway. Panic flared in her chest. She ran down the corridor and pushed open the storage door. A wall of intense heat slammed into her face. Flames were clawing up the back wall, eati