Chapter 27 – Morgan
27
LIAR LIAR
MORGAN
Lance had lied to me.
I should have been riding high, adrenaline coursing through my body after the show. But instead, I was numb. My brain was still trying to work through what Adele had said.
The revelations about Lance and his family ran through my head instead of me focusing on how well I’d done tonight.
My designs had hit the runway, and they’d looked even better on the models than I had imagined. Every stitch, every fold of fabric—it all flowed perfectly, exactly as I’d envisioned. For once, I didn’t feel like I had to claw my way up to be seen. Today, people saw me. Today, I’d belonged.
I tried to focus on that for a moment. To really breathe it in. I hugged myself tightly, warmth filling every inch of my body.
For the first time in nearly two months, I wasn’t drowning in self-doubt.
I had a damn shot. Adele Beekman had loved my work, and I was going to get to work with her and design a real line of my own.
Today I’d proven to myself, to everyone, that I was good enough. Maybe more than good enough.
Then, something changed. I felt it before I saw it. A chill ran down my spine, and suddenly, the air around me felt heavier. My smile faltered, and my steps slowed as my gaze flicked around the room, trying to locate the source of my unease.
Hector .
He was leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, watching me with a look that made my skin crawl. His smirk was sharp and predatory, like a vulture circling its prey. There was something about him that always set me on edge. Maybe it was the coldness in his eyes, the way he always seemed to be one step ahead, watching everything and everyone with detached amusement.
But here he was, standing in the middle of my moment.
“Morgan,” he said smoothly, pushing off the wall and strolling toward me with a slow, deliberate pace. “That was quite the show.”
I forced a smile, though my stomach churned at the sight of him. “Thank you,” I replied, keeping my tone as neutral as possible. Every instinct screamed at me not to engage, not to let him pull me into whatever game he was playing. But something told me Hector wasn’t the type to let things go easily.
“You’ve been a surprise,” he continued, his gaze sweeping over me like he was assessing a new acquisition. “I can see why my brother is obsessed with you.”
His words hit me like a punch to the gut, and his chuckle grated against my nerves.
“He’s always been a little embarrassed by me, you know. Doesn’t like being reminded of where he came from. But we can’t escape who we are, can we?”
I swallowed hard, keeping my face as unreadable as I could. I didn’t like where this conversation was going.
“I don’t think it’s about that,” I replied evenly, trying to regain control of the conversation. “Lance is a good man,” I said, my voice steady, though my hands were shaking slightly. “I trust him.”
Hector’s smirk deepened, and he took a step closer, invading my personal space. “Trust is a dangerous thing, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Especially with someone like Lance. He’s always been intense about what he wants. And right now, what he wants is you. But I’m not so sure you know what you’re getting into.”
I clenched my jaw, refusing to let him rattle me. “I know Lance,” I said firmly. “And I know what I want.”
Hector tilted his head, watching me with those cold, calculating eyes. “Do you, though? Or do you just know the version of him he wants you to see?”
My heart was pounding in my chest. I didn’t like the way Hector was twisting things, planting doubts where there shouldn’t be any. But the worst part was that a small part of me wondered how much truth there was to what he was saying.
“You’re trying to mess with me,” I said, my voice tight. “I do not know why but it’s not going to work.”
Hector chuckled again, but this time, a low, dark sound that made my skin prickle with unease.
“Sweetheart, I don’t need to mess with you. But don’t say I didn’t warn you when things start to fall apart.”
I took a step back, my pulse racing. This was too much. I didn’t need this right now—not after the high I’d been on from the show. Not after finally feeling like I was getting my footing.
“You don’t know me,” I said, my voice shaking despite my best efforts to stay calm. “And you don’t know Lance anymore.”
“You’re right,” he said softly. “I don’t know you. But I do know my brother. And trust me, sweetheart—Lance has a way of making things… complicated.”
I wanted to scream, to shove him away, to make him stop talking. But I couldn’t. His words had planted something in my mind, something dark and insidious, and I hated that he had that power over me.
“Thanks for the advice,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “But I don’t need it.”
Hector shrugged, completely unfazed by my tone. “Suit yourself,” he said lightly. “But don’t be surprised when the cracks start to show. They always do with Lance.”
Before I could respond, he turned and walked away, leaving me standing there in the middle of the bustling backstage area, feeling like the ground had been ripped out from under me.
I stood there for what felt like forever, my mind spinning. I didn’t want to believe Hector. I didn’t want to let his words sink in. But they already had. The doubt was there, gnawing at the edges of my mind, threatening to unravel everything I thought I knew.
Lance has always had a dark side.
Hector’s words echoed in my mind, and I hated that they made me question everything. What else was Lance hiding from me? Was there a side of him I didn’t know about like my father said?
No. I couldn’t go down that road. Lance had been nothing but good to me. He had shown me time and time again that he cared about me and that he was someone I could trust.
But Hector’s words kept slithering back, whispering that maybe I didn’t know him as well as I thought I did.
What if Hector was right?