After Zayne’s driver dropped me home, I did the first thing any sane person would do: I Googled the name Vittorio Mancini.
What I found sent a chill through me.
Article after article called him the gatekeeper of the modeling world. He decided who advanced, who stalled, and who never got another chance. Careers lived or vanished at his command. If you landed on his red list, you might as well search for another path. People feared him.
I was grateful I hadn’t known his reputation before meeting him. I would’ve fallen apart under that gaze, too terrified to breathe. Zayne had introduced me like it was nothing, like passing me a glass of water, and I’d sat across from the man most models only dream of meeting. And he had approved of me.
That thought alone sent a jolt of giddy electricity
