she is the boss
1187 Words
Scene: Marcus Enterprises – Fashion Show Planning Room
Designers and event coordinators buzzed around with fabric samples, mood boards, and model rosters. The air was electric with ambition.
Mercy walked in with her tablet. “Everything’s moving fast. We’ve got celebrity stylists, media houses flying in, and even the Minister’s wife confirmed attendance.”
Isabella stood by the floor-length windows, arms crossed. “Good. This show needs to be perfect. It’s not just fashion—it’s legacy.”
But across the room, a new intern—planted by Angela—slipped a small flash drive into a designer’s laptop while pretending to plug in a charger.
---
Scene: Roland Mansion – Angela’s Secret Room
Angela and Mrs. Roland reviewed a collection of documents and videos on a laptop.
Angela grinned. “Thanks to our little friend on the inside, we now have access to backstage footage, design leaks... and confidential sponsor lists.”
Mrs. Roland leaned in. “We plant rumors that Isabella stole those designs from her late father’s old partners. That she’s using knock-offs and calling it ‘inspired vintage.’ It’ll be all over the blogs before the runway lights come on.”
Angela smirked. “Let’s destroy her before the show even begins.”
---
Scene: Marcus Enterprises – Marketing Department
Whispers began to swirl.
“Hey, did you hear? Some of these designs might not be original.”
“Someone online claimed they saw similar patterns in a 1998 Marcus collection.”
Mercy caught wind immediately and stormed into Isabella’s office. “We’ve got a problem.”
She threw a tablet on the desk, revealing trending hashtags:
#MarcusFashionFraud
#StolenDesigns
Isabella frowned, scrolling through the growing accusations. “Anonymous accounts... time-stamped photos from our secured system. Someone’s leaking files.”
Mercy looked tense. “We might have a mole.”
Isabella’s jaw clenched. “Then it’s time to tighten security. No one gets backstage without clearance. And Mercy—”
Mercy looked up. “Yeah?”
“Let the fire burn. I’ll walk through it in heels.”
---
Scene: Back Alley Meeting – Intern & Angela
That night, under cover of darkness, the planted intern handed Angela a small envelope.
“That’s everything. Model changes, music cues, stage schematics.”
Angela flipped through them, satisfied. “Perfect. Let’s make sure her grand finale ends in disaster.”
Scene: Marcus Enterprises Grand Ballroom – Fashion Show Day
The ballroom had been transformed into a cathedral of light and beauty. Crystal chandeliers sparkled above a glossy black runway. A-list guests filled the golden seats—politicians, celebrities, media tycoons, and international designers. Cameras clicked, champagne flowed, and murmurs of expectation rippled through the glittering crowd.
Backstage, chaos hummed behind the curtain.
Makeup artists rushed. Models rehearsed final walks. Designers tweaked gowns in whispers. Mercy barked into a headset, coordinating logistics while dabbing her forehead with a napkin.
Isabella walked in wearing a tailored black silk gown with emerald cuffs. Her poise was flawless—but her eyes scanned the room sharply, searching for anything off.
Mercy hurried over. “We’ve already spotted two influencers sharing edited photos of designs with fake time-stamps. Someone’s still leaking.”
Isabella nodded, jaw tight. “Keep eyes on the models. Check every outfit before it walks. If anything’s been tampered with, it doesn’t go on stage.”
Just then, Nathan stepped through the backstage curtain. He wore a sleek dark green tux with a subtle lapel pin bearing the Marcus logo.
“You called?” he said, calm but alert.
Isabella exhaled. “They’re still trying to sabotage the show. We’ve sealed files, secured the computers, and yet somehow... it’s not stopping.”
Nathan looked around, then leaned close. “Let me help. I know how Angela thinks.”
Isabella hesitated—then nodded.
Nathan got to work, speaking discreetly to security, tracing staff credentials, even walking into the tech booth to oversee sound systems. In less than twenty minutes, he had identified two suspicious crew members and had them removed before the first spotlight even warmed the stage.
---
Scene: Lounge Area – Red Carpet Reception
In the front lobby, paparazzi snapped photos as VIPs arrived:
> “The Minister of Culture just walked in!”
“That’s the editor of Vogue Italia!”
“And that—oh my God—is that Prince Marco of Spain?”
Angela arrived shortly after—wearing a deep red satin dress, her makeup sharp and eyes burning. She smiled for the cameras, waving like a starlet.
Mrs. Roland followed, whispering into her ear, “Everyone’s watching. Just wait until the final act.”
Angela grinned. “She’ll regret ever trying to shine.”
---
Scene: Backstage – Just Before Showtime
Isabella reviewed the show flow one last time when Mercy pulled her aside.
“One of the models is missing. The girl wearing the finale gown—she just vanished.”
Isabella’s blood ran cold.
“We go live in ten minutes,” Mercy added, panic rising.
Nathan reappeared. “I’ll find her.”
Five minutes later, he returned with the model—shaken but unharmed. “She was locked in a storage room. Door jammed. No accident.”
Isabella’s hands curled into fists. “They’re getting bolder.”
Nathan looked her dead in the eyes. “Let them come. You’ve already won just by standing here.”
She looked at him, really looked—and for a moment, the cold armor around her cracked.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
---
Scene: The Fashion Show Begins
The lights dimmed. A single violin played.
Then, the music swelled. Models began to walk, one by one—draped in breathtaking gowns, dramatic cuts, regal colors, and ancestral embroidery that paid homage to Isabella’s late father’s original designs.
Every step down the runway was a reclaiming of her legacy.
In the crowd, murmurs turned to gasps. Phones flashed. Applause began to build.
Halfway through the show, rumors online shifted:
> “Turns out the ‘stolen’ designs were tributes. Confirmed by the Marcus family archives.”
“Classic Roland sabotage fails again?”
“Isabella is THAT woman.”
Angela sat in the front row, fists clenched on her lap as the applause grew louder and louder.
---
Scene: The Finale
The finale gown shimmered like starlight—stitched with emeralds and black velvet. The model walked with a crown placed delicately on her head. As she turned, the name Marcus was embroidered in gold across the back of the cape.
The audience erupted.
Standing ovation.
Tears welled in Isabella’s eyes as she stepped on stage for the closing bow. The applause swallowed the room.
Somewhere in the audience, Angela slipped out in silence.
---
Scene: Backstage – After the Show
Isabella sat alone for a moment, the crown in her lap. Nathan walked in quietly.
“You were incredible,” he said.
She smiled faintly, exhausted but triumphant.
“I never thought I’d survive tonight.”
Nathan sat beside her. “You didn’t just survive, Isabella. You conquered.”
They sat in silence, the weight of the moment settling in.
- Writer
