Chapter 30
Olivia
I stood there, watching as they took my best friend away in the ambulance. Dark satisfaction coursed through my veins–warm, molten, almost addictive.
Sirens howled in the distance, fading slowly as the ambulance disappeared around the corner.
Well, I got a little help from a certain four–eyed apprentice. Turns out Kaylee had been torturing the poor soul for a year and a half now. But I didn’t expect the reaction from Virexil Noir to come this soon, though.
Oh well. The earlier, the better, I suppose.
I couldn’t wait to see what her face would look like afterwards–but that is only the beginning.
That was just the matchstick.
I was going to take every shade of success from her and bring her down to nothing. Not just scratch her ego, no–grind it to dust. That self- confidence she prided herself on so much… let’s see how that holds up once her face recovers.
As I stood there, reminiscing on my victory like it was some sweet childhood memory, a voice came from behind me.
“Excuse me? Is that Olivia–you’re Olivia Lancaster, right?”
“Yes, I am.” I nodded, turning slowly. The voice belonged to the middle–aged general manager of Jênaz Couture. He looked… apprehensive. Borderline terrified. His eyes danced around like he was debating whether to run or shake my hand.
“Kaylee’s best friend?”
“Yes,” I nodded again, softer this time, letting out a sad sigh I didn’t mean one bit. “I’m just about to follow the ambulance to the hospital.” “That’s too bad. We thought maybe you would be able to… replace her.”
Well that was blunt.
Many years ago, I’d first auditioned to be a Jênaz model. With Kaylee, of course. I was picked. She wasn’t. That was the start of everything- the blackmail, the manipulation, the slow, suffocating death of my dreams.
I had to give up modeling so she could rise.
And now… he still remembered me?
I blinked the thought away, forcing a shaky breath.
“I’m sorry about that. She’s my best friend, and I really need to be by her side now.“!
A sly grin threatened to break free when his shoulders sagged with frustration.
He walked off, muttering something under his breath, and I turned, heading over to where my own team of experts was already waiting for me -bright–eyed, prepped, and loyal to the bone.
I was making my debut in the fashion world on the very day my best friend’s career went up in flames.
And getting revenge on Kaylee? That would be far sweeter from the shadows.
Everything was in place. Perfectly arranged like the final pieces of an elaborate chessboard. And my team? They were ready–primed and prepped like a backstage ariny.
Everything was going according to plan–though I couldn’t deny the nerves bubbling beneath my cool exterior. Maybe I should’ve told Seb about this. It was a huge step I was about to take, after all.
I sat in front of a mirror, the bright bulbs surrounding the glass casting halos around my reflection. A lot of different things were happening to me all at once. Everyone was working on me–makeup artist, stylist, hair specialist–all professionals.
I knew this was the kind of pressure that came with the job, so I prepared myself. Let them paint me. Shape me, Frame me. I was the canvas and the artist both.
Modeling had always been something I wanted to do ever since I was little.
But of course, whatever I wanted was exactly what Kaylee wanted too. Like some sick game of twin desires–except only one of us ever got to win.
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I’d refused opportunities so she could get them.
My dreams of ever becoming a model–I put them all down because I wanted her to shine, to be seen. And she’d call it ‘just dumb luck.‘
As if luck ever tasted like sacrifice.
The makeup was done. A soft, clean look that didn’t require much effort–but somehow made me look untouchable.
“Thank you, Savannah,” I said, turning to the makeup artist.
She blinked.
Once. Twice.
“Did I say something wrong?” I asked, tilting my head a little like a confused porcelain doll.
She shook her head. “No, I just didn’t expect the Olivia Lancaster to ever say thank you.”
I gave her a small smile. It wasn’t fake.
I forgot I still had a reputation to burn to the ground. But I wasn’t that stuck–up bitch anymore.
And apart from everyone here, no one could ever know who I truly was.
I gestured for her to come closer. “I won’t tell anyone if you don’t. ‘Thank yous‘ aren’t really my thing,” I whispered into her ear. We both burst out laughing, and her eyes softened.
Tonight was the perfect time to introduce myself to the fashion world, but I wasn’t going to walk the red carpet as Mrs. Lancaster.
Please.
I was going to be someone else entirely–someone different.
A shadow.
An unseen face.
If I was going to get back at Kaylee, the first step was to take her most prized possession–her career and reputation, the city’s angel was about to lose her proud wings.
“Are you ready for your outfit?” another lady asked, walking toward me. I think she was the stylist.
My heart raced–a chaotic mix of anxiety and thrill. “Yes, I am.”
She led me into a room that practically looked like my walk–in closet–just bigger and far more intimidating.
My stomach tightened, but I held it together. I’d always wanted to be here–and now I was.
Nothing was going to stop me,
The stylist held up a structured two–piece: a sharp, corset–style top with a plunging neckline and a floor–length satin skirt that shimmered like oil under light. I ran my hand through it, admiring its beauty.
But it was a statement piece for me.
A silent scream that said: I’m back bitches.
And then there it was–the mask.
The most important part of the look.
No one would see my face until I was ready.
The mask was black, covering the upper part of my face–beautiful, yet mysterious.
Goddess energy. Femme fatale chic. It was perfect.
I got dressed, and when I walked out of the dressing room, everyone stared at me–speechless.
Staring at myself in the mirror, I looked more stunning than ever.
The mask elevated my look even more, bringing my dream to life–and in all this, all I could think of was Sebastian.
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How much I missed him.
And needed him.
I wished he could be here right now. No one mattered more to me than him in this moment.
I wasn’t supposed to be here, but I had my ways.
And when it was time for another model to walk, I went in instead.
I had never walked a runway before–but I walked it like it had always been mine. Chin high, spine straight, I stepped into the spotlight with the kind of calm only real stars wear like perfume.
This was what all those hours in front of my mirror had been for.
The camera lights flared–bright and blinding.
But I didn’t blink.
I didn’t flinch.
I moved like the floor was built for me.
Like the show didn’t start until I stepped on stage.
I imagined Sebastian in the crowd, eyes locked on me.
That thought alone pulled a slow, deliberate smile to my lips–the kind that turned heads before the dress even had the chance to shimmer.
As I reached the end and turned, the sound hit me:
Applause.
Loud. Rising. Relentless.
People were on their feet, cheering.
And yeah, I was pretty sure they thought the mask was part of the look.
Let them.
I walked back steady, unbothered, eating up every second. I didn’t trip. I didn’t falter. I thrived.
The adrenaline that comes with being in front of all those people–some may find it terrifying. But that’s exactly what drives me.
As I tried to make my way to my car, paparazzi kept following me, bombarding me with questions.
“Can we get a name please? Who are you?”
“Tell us something about your look tonight?”
“Is this your debut into the fashion world?”
Now, that was the kind of question I was willing to answer.
I turned toward them, cameras flashing in my face, mask still on.
“Yes, this is my debut into the fashion world,” I said.
I got into my car and drove off.
That message was specifically for Kaylee—because I know she’d see it.
And in this game, I played to win.
When I got home, I sat in my car for a moment–the quietness deafening.
I hadn’t talked to Sebastian for days, and it was slowly starting to drive me mad.
I walked into the house, absentminded. I just wanted to make it up to my room and lie in bed.
That was when something caught my attention.
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A figure in the kitchen.
I saw his back–he wore black trousers and a crisp white shirt with the sleeves folded up those muscular forearms.
And whatever he was preparing smelled heavenly.
Like warmth. Like home.
My heart raced as I rushed in, needing to make sure I wasn’t imagining things.
When I got close enough, I saw his side profile – and I almost screamed.
A small smirk sat at the corner of his mouth as he focused on what he was cooking.
“Welcome home,” he said, facing me as he set the spoon down.
His smile was bright, his eyes lighting up.
I jumped into his arms, holding him tightly, never wanting to let go.
My heart raced in my chest, praying this wasn’t some weird dream I’d wake from in my car.
He hugged me back, lifting me effortlessly.
“Maybe I should travel more often,” he teased.
I didn’t respond to his remark–I just held him tighter, breathing in his scent.
“I missed you so much, Sebastian,” I whispered, the words escaping like a breath.
He pulled back slightly, locking eyes with me before pressing his lips to mine–desperate, full of longing and desire.
My mouth moved against his, unraveling everything I felt but couldn’t put into words.
I melted into him–into his kiss, into his arms.
