Page 42 of And Back

"Sabine’s work is always so detailed," I comment quietly to Virgilio and Valerie as a model wearing one of Sabine’s intricate gowns steps onto the runway. The garment glitters under the lights, capturing everyone’s attention.

They both nod. "She’s good," Virgilio agrees.

"That one’s beautiful," I say honestly as another of Sabine's creations—a stunning cocktail dress with elaborate embroidery—makes its way down the runway.

“It truly is a work of art,” Valerie admits despite her feelings.

Virgilio smiles at me warmly. "Is it okay if I say I prefer my girlfriend's designs better?" Virgilio whispers, a playful glint in his eyes.

“Am I your girlfriend now?” I chuckle softly, feeling a rush of warmth.

“Are you not?” He quirks an eyebrow at me.

“Only if you are my boyfriend.” I tease him.

“Deal.” He smirks, then kisses me on the cheek while I keep intently watching Sabine’s runway.

The final model steps onto the runway, wearing the pièce de résistance of my collection—a breathtaking gown that took days to perfect. The audience gasps in admiration as the model glides down the runway, the gown’s intricate lace and flowing silhouette catching the light beautifully. My heart swells with pride and anticipation as I watch every graceful step.

Valerie leans over and squeezes my arm gently. "You did it, Zoe,"

I nod, my eyes never leaving the runway. The applause grows louder as the model reaches the end of the runway and strikes a pose, showcasing every exquisite detail of the gown. The lights dim slightly, signaling the end of the show, and the audience erupts into enthusiastic applause.

The applause still roars in my ears as the man at the podium gestures for silence. "Ladies and gentlemen, we have witnessed some truly extraordinary designs today," he announces, his voice resonating through the hall. "I would like to invite both Sabine Johnson and Zoe Gray to the stage."

I rise from my seat and Virgilio gives my hand a final squeeze before I let go, feeling the loss of his warmth instantly. As I walk towards the stage, Sabine joins me, her expression unreadable. We stand side by side, the spotlight bathing us in its harsh glow.

"Both of you have presented remarkable collections," the man continues, looking between us with a smile. "Now, it's time for our audience to vote. Please use the small tabs in front of you to cast your votes."

A large screen flickers to life behind us, displaying two different colors. Numbers begin to appear, changing rapidly as votes are tallied. My breath catches in my throat; I have no idea which color represents my designs or Sabine’s.

One number starts to pull ahead, higher by twenty-four votes. My heart pounds louder than ever as I watch the gap widen slightly, then narrow again.

The man raises his hand for attention once more. "Thank you for voting," he says, turning back to us. "The time has come to reveal the winner."

The room feels like it's holding its breath as the judges deliberate. My heart races, each beat a reminder of how much this moment means to me. I glance at Sabine beside me, her face a mask of calm professionalism, though I know she must be feeling the same tension I feel.

Finally, the man at the podium seems to receive a message through his in-earbud, then he clears his throat and addresses the audience. "Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your patience. The judges have made their decision."

The large screen behind us flickers to life once more. The man at the podium smiles warmly.

"It is my great pleasure to announce that the winner of today's fashion show is... Zoe Gray!"

The hall erupts in applause. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes as I look out into the crowd, seeing Virgilio and Valerie standing with beaming smiles. The noise is overwhelming, but in the best possible way.

I turn to Sabine and extend my hand. She hesitates for a brief moment before taking it. We exchange a respectful nod, acknowledging each other as worthy competitors. Despite our rivalry, I can't help but admire her talent and determination.

"Congratulations," Sabine says, her voice steady but with a hint of genuine respect.

"Thank you," I reply sincerely. "You did an amazing job too."

The competition was fierce, but it brought out the best in both of us.

The moment is overwhelming, but in the best possible way. This is everything I've worked for.

Just as I'm about to step off the runway, a sudden, loud noise pierces through the air. My heart skips a beat. Gunshots. The crowd erupts into chaos. People scream and duck for cover, their faces twisted in fear.

My heart races as I look around frantically, trying to understand what's happening. Panic grips me, making it hard to think clearly. My eyes dart across the room, and that's when I see him—Benedetto Messina. He's here, and he's not alone. His men storm the venue, their faces set with grim determination.

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