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I’m finally starting to feel like me again.
“That one’s amazing,” I whisper, as a dark-haired model struts down in a black thong and matching bustier adorned with crystals.
Mum takes my hand, a bright smile on her face as we sit together and watch each model showcasing stunning piece after stunning piece.
“That one’s like the first set you sent me,” I gasp as the face of the brand, a stunning model called Sinclair steps onto the runway. A hum of energy ripples through the room as she walks the runway in sky-highheels that make her legs look amazing. She reaches the end and turns, her blonde hair shining beneath the lights like ice before she struts back up again.
I smile as my gaze wanders, letting it track along the front row on the opposite side of the runway. There are two actresses I recognize, a male fashion designer, countless stylish women, and—
Fuck no.
Cool blue eyes burn into mine, making goosebumps scatter up my spine. He doesn’t look surprised to see me. Not like I imagine I do—eyes wide, heart pounding, face on fire. He’s sitting there with the calm arrogance he’s known for. Like he’s been watching me for a while.
“Shit,” I mutter too quietly for Mum to hear above the music.
The familiar rage swirls in my gut as Jet stares at me. He’s cut his hair, it’s a little shorter on top, and he looks broader in his deep blue suit, his white shirt fitting snug over his chest, like he’s been working out more.
He’s probably skipping nine hundred times in a row now.
Bastard, I mouth, more to myself than anyone. But the way his eyes narrow and darken tells me he saw it.
I look away, forcing myself to concentrate on the show. But now that I’ve seen him, all I can see in my peripheral are intense blue eyes watching me. I straighten in my seat, lifting my chin, trying my best to look unaffected but my heart is hammering againstmy ribs, my blood heating at the relentless attention he’s got fixed on me. I look back, checking the seats either side of him. Both are occupied by women talking to the people beside them. Neither appear to be with him, which means he’s here on his own. But why would he come to a lingerie show alone?
“You have that one,” Mum exclaims, drawing my attention back to the model on stage.
The nude lace bodysuit fits her perfectly. The pearl strands draping over her hips accentuate them in a way that’s so sexy, everyone’s eyes are on her. I look at her face, and my throat goes dry.
Francesca Callaghan.
She looked beautiful when I saw her in New York. But seeing her now… she’s a literal goddess.
The back of my neck flares with heat as bile rises up my windpipe. I look at Jet, but his eyes are on Francesca, his usual scowl even deeper as he watches her do a spin.
“I feel sick,” I mumble.
Mum squeezes my hand. “Let’s go to the restroom. You look pale.”
“I’m fine. You stay. I just need a minute.”
I reassure her again, then apologize to the people in our row as I make my exit.
I push through the door at the rear of the room and march out into the cool corridor. The pearls that felt smooth against my skin now feel like barbed wire, each one tearing at my skin. What the hell was I thinking? I was so determined not to let Jet ruin thethings for me that I love. Not to let him take anything else from me, that I’ve still been wearing the bodysuit he sent me.
“I’m such a fucking idiot,” I hiss as I storm along, searching for a restroom where I can go and rip the stupid thing off. I don’t even care that I’m about to throw a thousand dollars of silk and pearls into the trash. I’d pay ten times that amount to get the thing off me.
Maybe this is what he does. Sends all the women he fucks the same design, getting some weird perverse pleasure from knowing we all wear it for him.
“Asshole.” I seethe as I rush around a corner. “Where are the fucking restrooms?” I yell in frustration as another deserted corridor greets me.
“You walked past them.”
I spin so fast my brain rattles in my skull.
Jet’s standing a few feet behind me, watching me with a grimace.
“I told you not to even look at me if we were in the same place again. What part of that didn’t you understand?” I spit.
“I never agreed to that,” he rasps, his deep voice bringing a flurry of memories with it. His eyes darken until he’s glowering at me so hard it makes me swallow with unease.
