Artemis POV
A few moments earlier
My watch read fifteen minutes to showtime. Fifteen minutes until the entire fashion world judged me. Investors, critics, rivals—every one of them ready to cheer my brilliance or devour me alive.
And someone had dared to sabotage me by stealing my design.
Not just any design. The design. The one shoe that mattered most. Crafted out of blood, sleepless nights, and obsession. A shoe that had become more than leather and fabric—it was a symbol of my hunger, my defiance, my need to prove I was still untouchable.
And I wanted Lana to wear it.
Lana.
Damn it. Why was she the first thought that struck my mind instead of the company? Why did her disappointment matter more than the applause of the entire industry?
I tore through the design room like a madman—
