CHAPTER 14
1314 Words
Chapter 14: “A Model Betrayal”
The day of the press preview dawned with an icy drizzle that streaked the windows of Blackwell Tower, leaving the skyline cloaked in a dull, silver mist. Despite the weather, the lobby buzzed with reporters hauling camera equipment, interns rushing with garment bags, and stylists lugging cases of cosmetics.
This was supposed to be a controlled event — a polished glimpse of the upcoming gala. But the tension simmering under the surface felt like a live wire.
Ava stood backstage at the runway hall, a headset in place and a tablet tucked under her arm. She could hear the muffled chatter of journalists outside the curtains and the hiss of steamers as assistants prepared the gowns. The Starfire gown shimmered on its rack beneath a protective cloth, waiting like a caged star.
Her stomach tightened as she checked the data feed again. No anomalies. For now.
---
“Everything ready?” Liam’s voice came from behind her.
She turned to find him dressed in a navy suit, his tie slightly askew, an unusual sign of his restless mood.
“As ready as we can be,” she said. “I’ve double-checked the transitions and added two backup overrides. If something glitches this time, it won’t catch us off guard.”
“Good,” he said, his voice low. “Let’s make sure today is quiet.”
But in the pit of her stomach, Ava doubted quiet was in their cards.
---
The first few minutes went smoothly. A handful of models strutted down the glossy black runway, the embedded lights responding flawlessly to the music. The press murmured appreciatively, camera shutters clicking like rain.
Then came Elara, the Starfire gown’s lead model, wearing a different sample dress for the preview. She walked with effortless grace, her features carved in focus. Ava watched her closely, noting how Elara’s composure never cracked despite the flurry backstage.
As Elara exited the runway, Samantha approached her to adjust the next outfit — an avant-garde silver sheath meant to tease the technology behind the Starfire without revealing its final design.
“Quick change, thirty seconds,” Samantha instructed briskly.
Ava noticed a flicker of something — tension, maybe — pass across Elara’s face before she disappeared into the changing area.
---
Minutes later, the show continued, but just as the fifth model stepped forward, a sudden flurry of commotion rippled through the press section. Reporters’ phones started buzzing in near unison, screens lighting up.
A murmur turned into a rising wave of whispers.
Ava’s heart sank. Something was wrong.
The director paused the show. Liam’s phone vibrated almost instantly; he glanced at it, his jaw tightening as he strode over to Ava.
“Look at this,” he said, showing her the screen.
A headline glared back at her:
> “EXCLUSIVE: Starfire Gown’s Final Design Leaked — See the Forbidden Photos Here”
Ava’s blood ran cold. The photos splashed across the article were unmistakable — detailed close-ups of the Starfire gown’s final pattern and even snippets of the transition code. The leak was more devastating than before, revealing the entire centerpiece before the gala.
“How is that even possible?” Ava whispered, horrified. “We locked down every terminal after the last incident!”
“Someone had access,” Liam replied grimly. His eyes scanned the room before settling on the changing area. “And they struck again.”
---
Within minutes, the press preview dissolved into chaos. Reporters clamored for confirmation, flashing cameras like lightning. Samantha stepped in to handle the crowd, her voice sharp and commanding as she urged everyone to remain calm.
Meanwhile, Liam ordered security to seal the building. No one in or out until they determined the source of the leak.
Ava followed Liam backstage, her pulse hammering. They found Elara seated on a stool, scrolling furiously through her phone. She looked up, her expression too composed for someone witnessing a crisis.
“Something you’d like to share with us, Elara?” Liam asked coolly.
The model raised an eyebrow. “Why would I know anything about this leak? I was on the runway the whole time.”
“Were you?” Ava asked quietly, recalling the tense flicker she’d seen earlier. “You disappeared for longer than a quick change.”
Elara’s lips curved into a faint, cold smile. “Are you accusing me, designer? You should focus on fixing your tech instead of pointing fingers at me.”
Ava bristled but held her tongue, sensing Liam’s subtle nod — a silent plea not to escalate.
---
Security arrived moments later, reporting that they’d found an unsecured tablet hidden under a pile of garment bags in the changing area. The device was still logged into an anonymous email account that had sent the leaked photos to a press contact less than ten minutes ago.
All eyes shifted to Elara.
“That’s not mine,” she said flatly, though her tone lacked conviction.
Samantha stepped forward, her voice crisp. “You were the only one in that area during the window of upload.”
Elara crossed her arms, chin tilting defiantly. “Circumstantial. You have no proof.”
Liam’s expression hardened, the weight of leadership bearing down on his shoulders. “Until we have proof, you’re suspended from the show. Security will escort you out.”
The model’s eyes narrowed, but she stood without protest, tossing her hair back as if unfazed. “You’ll regret this,” she muttered, then followed the guards out, her heels clicking like gunshots against the marble floor.
---
After the chaos subsided and the press had been ushered out with promises of an official statement, Ava slumped against the backstage wall, exhausted. The Starfire gown remained untouched on its rack, now shielded by a heavy black cloth as though mourning the humiliation.
“This keeps getting worse,” she murmured.
Liam stood beside her, his gaze fixed on the darkened runway. “The leak wasn’t just about photos. Did you notice the code fragments they released? Whoever’s behind this wants to dismantle our tech advantage, too.”
Ava nodded grimly. “That’s not something Elara could’ve pulled off on her own. Someone fed her the material — or used her as a delivery system.”
He glanced at her then, the line between anger and weariness clear on his face. “We’re running out of time to get ahead of this.”
---
That night, back at her small apartment, Ava sat curled on her couch with her laptop open. She scrolled through social media, where hashtags about the leak were already trending, critics speculating whether Blackwell Corp had lost its edge.
A notification pinged — a private message from an unknown account.
> “You’re good, Ava. But not good enough. Back off before you end up like the others.”
Her hands went cold as she stared at the screen. The threat was more pointed than before, suggesting that whoever was orchestrating this knew exactly who she was — and was watching her closely.
She quickly screenshotted the message and sent it to Ethan with a single line: “We’re running out of time.”
Meanwhile, Liam stood alone in his office, overlooking the rain-slicked streets below. The city’s lights reflected off the glass like distant constellations. He thought of the warning Ava had received days earlier and the message she hadn’t yet told him about tonight.
He picked up his phone, his thumb hovering over her name, then set it back down. Whatever this war was becoming, he knew she was already in deeper than she realized — and he wasn’t sure how to protect her without pushing her away.
Outside, the drizzle turned into a steady rain, drumming softly against the windows as though keeping time with the ticking clock of their unraveling empire.
- Writer
