It's A 10 Silk Novels & Stories

From shop to shop for us to find the perfect outfit. And apparently, the perfect outfit was supposed to be formal but not too formal. So I couldn’t wear a suit ensemble. But a silk shirt, paired with matching silk pants and accessorized quite stylishly was okay. Under normal circumstances, I would have enjoyed the whole pampering. But with how occupied my mind was, I couldn’t even be still enough to get myself to relax. By 12 o’clock in the afternoon, I was done with everything and a driver was taking me to ColElectronics grounds. My heart felt strangely heavy, beating like there was actually something between Jax and I and we needed these men’s approval. I was very nervous.

I slice the tape. Inside, nestled in black tissue paper, is a coil of rope. It’s gorgeous. heavy, shibari-grade silk rope in a deep, blood-red color. It shimmers in the light. I run my fingers over it. It’s soft as butter but strong. There’s a card tucked underneath. A heavy, cream-colored stock with handwritten ink. I pick it up, my hands trembling again. For when we meet. —A.R. My heart slams against my ribs.

“Running away means you’re hiding. Rebuilding means you have a plan. Which is it?” “Both, maybe. I’m hiding from who I was. Rebuilding into someone new.” “And who is this new person?” “I don’t know yet. That’s what I’m trying to figure out.” Genevieve smiled. Actually smiled. “Honest answer. I like that.” She tossed me the fabric. “Tell me what this is.” I caught it, felt the weight and texture. “Silk crepe de chine. Good quality. Probably sixteen momme weight. It would drape beautifully but wrinkle easily. Best for structured pieces with lining support.”

And I was there… in a dress that didn’t belong to me - but somehow was me. Crimson silk, custom-made. Cut to cradle my waist and fall like molten fire down my hips. Backless, of course. It hugged every inch like it had been born for my skin, with just enough shimmer to catch the moonlight and make it sigh. He’d bought it. Calvin.

Chapter 13: Whispers Behind Glass Walls The silence in the office was the worst kind the kind that felt too aware, too orchestrated. Lana’s heels clicked sharply on the marble tiles as she walked into the tenth-floor workspace of Silken Group. Heads didn’t turn, but she could feel the weight of every pair of eyes. Watching. Whispering. She adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder and held her chin high. A receptionist gave her a strained smile. “Good morning, Miss Valen.”

Tears spilled down my cheeks. I let the poker fall. It struck the floor with a deafening clang. “I’ll go,” I whispered. The mirror in the Guild Hall dressing suite was three times my height, framed in tarnished gold. Blood-red silk covered my body, double-woven with silver threads that pinched against my skin. Four seamstresses moved around me, tightening the stiff bodice against my ribs. I couldn’t breathe. Not because of the corset, but because of the weight of the lie I was wearing.

I turned to her and saw her pointing at a dress lined with white beads and diamonds. I stared at the dress and realized that it is the best-designed dress inside the shop. It is in the center and I think it's also the most expensive one here. It's a halter A-line dress made of silk and chiffon over it. I walked closer and touched the texture of the dress.

I think about it. "Because silk is extraordinary. Everyone thinks of it as delicate. Romantic." I lean forward slightly. "But scientifically, it's one of the strongest natural fibres on earth." His eyes sharpen. Now we're speaking the same language. "It has tensile strength comparable to steel." "Yes." "And yet," he adds quietly, "people underestimate it." Something in his tone makes my heart beat faster. "People underestimate many things," I reply. For a moment we simply look at each other. The conversation has shifted. Not flirting. Not exactly. But definitely not just academic.

"I want something elegant and sophisticated. Maybe tea length? Something I could actually move in." "What about color?" Maya asked. "Not pure white. Maybe ivory or champagne? Something softer." Elena looked at fabric samples. "What about this?" Maya held up a beautiful silk in a pale gold color. "Champagne with hints of gold thread woven through." Elena touched the fabric, feeling its weight and texture. "It's beautiful." "And for style, I'm thinking a simple A-line silhouette. Fitted bodice, flowing skirt that hits just below the knee. Elegant without being overdone." Maya started sketching rapidly.

"Camilla, it's barely past dawn. What are you talking about? What is that?" "Your saving grace," she said, zipping open the bag with a sharp slice. The fabric that spilled out took the breath right out of my lungs. It was a magnificent, flowing formal dress made of the heaviest, most luxurious midnight-blue silk I had ever seen. The material was unreal; it caught the light, shifting from a deep indigo to a dangerous, icy silver every time Camilla moved it. The neckline was sharp and modern, and the skirt fell in thick pools that looked like the night sky turned into liquid cloth.