“You mentioned we needed more models,” Tony chimes in, taking over the conversation. “Viper and Bianca are friends of mine, and they offered to help.”
“Yes, perfect! You’re both so gorgeous. You’re going to elevate the show!”
“They will. Zara and I have chosen which designs we want them to wear, but if the other designers need additional bodies…”
“We do! I was hoping to acquire two more models, but I wasn’t having any luck. Now, if I could just find another stylist, we’ll be all set.”
“Well, aren’t you lucky, because we have one,” Tony says, placing his arm around Izzy and pulling her forward. “Izzy is amazing. I think you’ll love her work.”
“I think I love you all,” Darlene says with relief. “You’ve done my job for me. Now let’s get to work!”
The loft explodes into motion.
Voices fill the space as Darlene and the designers shout out orders. Models move from designer to designer, getting instructions on what they’re wearing and the timing of each change. Hunter and Rattler position themselves casually near the exits, eyes scanning the room with predator calm. They look out of place among the silks and the flash—but their presence makes me feel safer.
I guide Bianca to my rack.
Front and center hangs my favorite piece: a bright pink dress in silk charmeuse, structured at the bodice with architectural seams that contour the waist before spilling into a dramatic asymmetrical hem. It’s daring in color but elegant in cut.
Bianca runs her fingers over it. “This is stunning.”
“It needs someone who owns the room,” I tell her honestly. “That’s you.”
She squeezes my hand before slipping behind the changing screen.
Nearby, Tony helps Viper out of her jacket, revealing the sculpted lines of her torso beneath a fitted tee. Tony’s design hangs ready—a risqué ensemble that blurs subtle sexiness with overt power. The red number combines silk with black leather, a sleeveless harness-style top that barely contains her breasts in the red silk while not hesitating to reveal her sculpted arms and toned abdomen. A sliver of red cascades down her waist to encircle her hips, once again leaving black leather strips circling trim thighs. It’s very provocative and intensely powerful.
I worry that Viper will balk at how much of her it exposes, but she studies the finished piece and nods.
Chill sees me watching Viper and slides up next to me.
“She used to be a showgirl, remember?” Chill reminds me. “Viper could walk across that runway stark naked, and she wouldn’t bat an eye.”
I chuckle just as Bianca steps out from behind the screen.
My breath catches.
The pink is electric against her ebony skin, the structured bodice enhancing every curve while the fluid skirt moves like liquid around her legs. I shake myself before swooping in to adjust the hem and pin the back.
“You look amazing,” I whisper.
Bianca beams. “It’s your design.”
We move into fittings with the rest of the models, adjusting straps, tightening seams, and swapping shoes. I kneel to fix a hem, fingers flying as I re-stitch a loose thread. Tony debates accessories with Bianca, finally settling on minimalism so the structure can speak.
Marlene calls out, “Runway rehearsal!”
The models line up.
Music pulses through hidden speakers—deep, rhythmic, commanding.
Bianca goes third. When she steps onto the runway, she transforms. Her walk is fluid but strong, shoulders back, chin lifted. The pink dress catches the light, glowing as the asymmetrical hem flutters with each step. She pauses at the end, pivots sharply, and for a split second, I can already see cameras flashing and applause rippling through the audience.
Then Viper’s turn.
She strides out like she owns the building. The leather-and-silk piece is a perfect fit for Viper’s personality and presence. Her long legs eat up the runway as she strides to the end. She pauses just before turning to give the audience the full impact, then strides away. She’s as powerful leaving as she was coming.
Tony grabs my hand, squeezing hard. “We’re going to kill this.”
