Beautiful Disaster
778 Words
Chapter 10
One Month Later
CONTI Studios was chaos before noon.
Beautiful chaos.
The kind hidden beneath luxury heels, expensive coffee, and people pretending they weren’t seconds away from emotional collapse.
Assistants rushed across the studio carrying garment bags.
Someone near production was arguing over missing lace samples.
Two stylists were loudly debating whether silver heels were “editorial” or “a public crime.”
And somewhere near the fitting section—
someone was already crying.
“I said ivory,” a designer snapped dramatically. “IVORY. Why is this white?”
“Because ivory IS white!”
“It’s emotionally different!”
The entire studio moved like organized disaster.
Phones ringing. Sketches everywhere. Music playing softly from overhead speakers. Coffee cups abandoned beside fabric rolls worth more than rent.
And in the middle of all of it—
Rose Carter sat calmly at her workstation like the madness bent itself around her.
One month ago, nobody knew who she was.
Now?
“Rose, can you check this hemline for me?”
“Rose, do you think this fabric works for evening wear?”
“Did Rose approve the Noir sketches yet?”
Lucia Moretti nearly stabbed her tablet pen through the screen hearing that last one.
Across from her, Serena leaned dramatically against a table, iced coffee in hand.
“I’m telling you right now,” Serena said, watching Rose from across the room, “if Luther Bianchi falls for the new girl before noticing me, I’m retiring emotionally.”
One assistant burst into laughter.
Lucia didn’t.
“There’s nothing happening between them,” she said sharply.
Serena raised an eyebrow.
“Lucia. He literally looks for her every morning.”
“That means nothing.”
“Mm.” Serena sipped her drink slowly. “And I’m naturally humble.”
Before Lucia could answer—
the studio shifted.
Not quieter.
Just… aware.
Luther Bianchi had arrived.
Three interns immediately straightened.
One nearly dropped a tray of fabric samples.
“Oh my God,” somebody whispered near styling. “Why does he walk like he owns Europe?”
“Because he probably does spiritually.”
Laughter broke out quietly.
Luther ignored all of it as usual.
Dark sleeves rolled slightly past his wrists, tablet in one hand, expression unreadable.
Cold. Focused. Impossible to impress.
And somehow—
still the center of attention every time he entered a room.
Rose didn’t notice him immediately.
She was standing beside one of the central design tables reviewing sketches with a junior designer.
“…No, the neckline isn’t the problem,” she explained calmly. “The structure underneath is too heavy.”
The designer blinked.
“…Wait.”
Rose flipped the page smoothly.
“If you reduce the inner layering, the fabric falls naturally instead of fighting itself.”
A pause.
Then— “Oh my God.”
Another assistant leaned over the sketches dramatically.
“She fixed that in ten seconds?”
“I hate talented people,” someone muttered.
“I hate calm talented people specifically.”
Serena laughed into her coffee.
Lucia’s expression darkened further.
Then Luther stopped beside the table.
Directly beside Rose.
Of course he did.
The junior designer nearly moved out of the way on instinct.
Luther looked down at the sketches briefly.
“You changed the cut.”
Rose nodded once.
“The original restricted movement.”
His eyes lingered on the design another second.
“It’s better now.”
Dead silence.
Then immediate whispering exploded the second he moved away.
“He complimented her AGAIN.”
“At this point just date already.”
“Shut up before Lucia hears you.”
Too late.
Lucia had absolutely heard them.
And judging by the look on her face—
someone might not survive lunch break.
Rose sighed softly, gathering the sketches.
“You all realize he compliments good work in general, right?”
The entire nearby table stared at her.
One assistant blinked slowly.
“…Rose.”
“What?”
“That man once rejected a collection using only the word ‘unfortunate.’”
Serena choked on her drink laughing.
Even Rose looked slightly surprised by that.
From across the room, Luther glanced briefly in their direction again.
And Serena immediately grabbed Lucia’s arm dramatically.
“LOOK. LOOK AGAIN. HE DID IT AGAIN.”
Lucia pulled her arm away.
“You’re embarrassing.”
“No, HE’S embarrassing,” Serena whispered loudly. “He’s one eye contact away from writing poetry.”
Several interns burst into muffled laughter.
For the first time all morning—
Rose smiled.
Small. Quick. Barely there.
But Luther noticed it instantly.
And unfortunately for Lucia—
so did everyone else.
- Writer
