"A classical sonata will s*******r my runway."
Isabella Rossi stood her ground. Ryan Parker walked into the center of her chaotic command center. He wore a bespoke midnight blue suit.
Magnus Mace stepped through the heavy metal doors right behind him. The giant underground kingpin crossed his thick arms. The remaining backstage crew froze in pure terror.
"High fashion demands digital aggression," Isabella warned him. "It requires heavy bass and hypnotic rhythm. If you play Mozart while my models walk, my investors will abandon me by morning."
"I am not here to play Mozart," Ryan stated.
He turned his head toward the open loading dock. He signaled his security team.
Six members of the Acoustic Vanguard rolled a massive object into the room. The stagehands gasped and backed away from t
