Chapter 39
ADRIAN
The Teatro alla Scala’s smaller sister venue, Teatro degli Arcimboldi, had been transformed into something between a boudoir and a palace. Red velvet draped every surface. Gold accents caught the theatrical lighting, and everywhere I looked there were touches that screamed seduction.
Dash’s theme. Of course.
“This is impressive.” Elizabeth stood in the entrance, taking it all in. “Wow.”
“Subtle, isn’t it?” I said dryly. “Very Dash. When the theme is seduction, why not just make everything look like a high-end brothel?”
“How do you know what a high-end brothel looks like?” she asked with a grin.
“Very funny,” I said, shaking my head.
“It’s not that bad.” Elizabeth was grinning.
“Okay, it’s a little bit bad. But in a good way?
It’s bold. I was under the impression seduction and decadence were the same thing.
I was oh so very wrong. This is a very different vibe.
I feel like I can smell musky, powerful perfume just by looking at this place.
It’s temptation. Isn’t that one of the seven deadly sins? ”
I laughed, pulling her closer as we moved deeper into the venue. “Lust, technically. But yes, that’s exactly what Dash was going for. He wanted people to feel like they were being seduced just by walking into the space.”
“Mission accomplished.” She tilted her head, studying the ceiling where more fabric created an almost tent-like effect. “It’s over the top, but it works. There’s something about it that makes you want to lean in, get closer, see what secrets are hiding in the shadows.”
“That’s the point. Dash is all about the experience—not just the clothes, but the entire atmosphere.” I spotted my youngest brother across the room, deep in conversation with what looked like the lighting director. “Come on, let’s see if he’s nervous yet.”
“Does Dash get nervous?”
“Never. Which is either impressive or deeply concerning, depending on your perspective.”
We made our way through the organized chaos of pre-show setup. Models were getting fitted, makeup artists were setting up stations, and the energy was electric in a way that was distinctly different from my show or my other brothers’ events.
This felt dangerous. Exciting. Like anything could happen.
Dash spotted us and broke into a grin, leaving his conversation to stride over. “There’s the happy couple. Elizabeth, you look stunning. Adrian, you look like you’re about to have a heart attack. Relax, brother. Everything’s under control.”
“That’s what worries me,” I said. “Your version of ‘under control’ usually involves some level of chaos.”
“Controlled chaos is the best kind of chaos.” He winked at Elizabeth. “Are you ready to see your dresses make their debut?”
“I don’t know,” she groaned. “I’m beyond nervous.”
We’d arrived early because I wanted Elizabeth to see the venue before the craziness started.
I wanted her to understand where her dresses would be showcased.
This was her debut. I debated holding off to avoid her dresses being features in the seduction show because I just knew her mother would have a fit.
But fuck it. The dresses were good, and I wanted them to be seen.
I was probably more nervous than she was.
“Come on,” I said, taking her hand. “I want to show you something.”
I led her backstage with Dash following behind us.
“I need your approval on the graphics,” I told her. “Where’s your computer, Dash?”
“Over there.” He absently gestured toward a table before going after a model. And not in the sexual way.
“Graphics?” Elizabeth asked.
“For your logo.” I pulled up the file on Dash’s computer. “I had the design team clean up what we sketched yesterday. Take a look.”
The screen showed our heart-shaped EL logo, refined and digitized, ready to be projected on the massive screens flanking the runway. It looked professional and elegant.
“Oh my God,” she breathed. “Adrian, that’s so pretty.”
“That’s going to appear when your first dress comes out. The screens will show the logo, announce the ‘Elizabeth Laramie Collection,’ and you’ll have your moment.”
She turned to me, eyes bright with unshed tears. She grabbed my face and kissed me like I’d given her the moon.
“Thank you,” she whispered against my lips. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
“You earned it.” I held her close, not caring who was watching. “Your designs earned it.”
“Okay, lovebirds, save it for the cameras.” Dash was grinning though. “Speaking of which, we’ve got press photos in twenty minutes. Both of you need to be picture-perfect.”
Elizabeth pulled back, wiping her eyes. “Right. Photos. I can do photos now.”
“You absolutely can.”
The transformation from two weeks ago was remarkable.
The nervous woman who’d frozen in front of cameras was gone, replaced by someone who understood how to work them.
She was comfortable at my side. I wasn’t sure if it was the regular sex that made her more comfortable or if she was just getting used to the whole dog and pony show.
We made our way to where the press area had been set up. There was more red and gold, naturally, with a backdrop featuring the Blackwell logo intertwined with theatrical masks. Very on brand for an opera house venue.
Sebastian and Briggs were already there, both looking considerably more rested than Dash. Mom appeared a moment later, elegant in a black dress from one of our older collections. It was one Dad had designed. It was no coincidence she was wearing it tonight.
“Family photos first,” the photographer called out. “All the Blackwells together.”
Elizabeth started to step aside—technically she wasn’t a Blackwell—but Mom caught her arm.
“You too, dear,” she said to Elizabeth. “You’re part of this.”
Elizabeth looked surprised and happy. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely,” Mom replied. “I think it would look strange if you weren’t in the photos. After all, you’re engaged.”
Elizabeth nodded. “You’re right. Of course.”
She took her place beside me. We all arranged ourselves for the photographer.
“Adrian, put your arm around her,” the photographer instructed. “Elizabeth, lean into him. Perfect. Now everyone look at me.”
We went through the standard poses with the photographer calling out adjustments. I watched Elizabeth handle it all with grace, smiling naturally, following directions without the stiffness that had plagued her early photos.
“She’s gotten so much better at this,” Sebastian murmured during a setup change. “Remember New York? She could barely look at the camera.”
“She rises to every occasion,” I said quietly. “She just needed to believe in herself.”
“And someone to believe in her.” Sebastian gave me a knowing look. “You’re good for each other. Don’t fuck it up.”
Before I could respond, the photographer was calling us back for more shots. Elizabeth and I posed together, then with various combinations of family members. Through it all, I kept noticing little things about her. I knew her, but this version of her was so different from that woman I first met.
She knew her angles and how she could turn on charm for the camera while staying genuine. She’d made so much progress in such a short time. From terrified to confident, from hesitant to assured.
I was so damn proud of her.
After photos, we did the obligatory press interviews. It was mostly softball questions about Fashion of Love Week. There were a few about our relationship, but thankfully, the press stayed on topic. They asked questions about what to expect from tonight’s show, which Dash handled easily.
“Are we going to see Elizabeth walk again?” one reporter asked. “Her appearance in New York was a highlight.”
“Not tonight,” Elizabeth said smoothly. “Tonight, I’m here as a designer. I’ll be debuting three original pieces in Dash’s show.”
“Original pieces?” The reporter perked up. “Can you give us a preview?”
“You’ll have to wait and see.” She smiled mysteriously. “But I will say they’re unlike anything you’ve seen before.”
The reporter ate it up. I felt a surge of pride. She’d found her voice, learned how to talk about her work with confidence and passion.
After the press obligations, Elizabeth disappeared with Annika for final fitting of the dresses while I tracked down Dash to review the show flow.
“Your girl’s pieces go in between the main bedroom collection and the lingerie finale,” Dash explained, pulling up the running order on his tablet. “It’ll create a nice palette cleanser—still sexy, still seductive, but with more romance. More emotion.”
“They’re not bedroom pieces,” I said. “They’re actual dresses.”
Did I sound defensive? Probably. I didn’t want her to feel like she was being lumped in with Dash’s more dangerous designs.
“I know what they are. I’ve seen the designs, remember?” Dash grinned. “They’re perfect for what they are. Bold without being obvious, sexy without being vulgar. They’ll photograph beautifully and stand out without feeling out of place.”
“You’re going to give her logo a few minutes of screen time, right?”
“Yep. Screens will go black. Then her logo fills them. It’ll be a moment.” He looked at me seriously. “Adrian, her designs are good. The fashion press is going to lose their minds.”
“She deserves it.”
“I agree,” he said. “I know this started as a PR stunt, but Adrian, I’ve watched you this week. You’re different with her. Lighter. More like yourself instead of the CEO robot you became after Dad died.”
“I’m not a robot.”
“You were. Are. When you’re in work mode. But with her, you’re just Adrian again. The brother I grew up with.”
It was a weirdly sentimental moment. I wasn’t sure what to do with it. My brothers and I didn’t really do raw honesty like this.
“Get out of here. I’ve got a show to finalize and you’re distracting me with your lovesick puppy face.”
I found Elizabeth in the dressing area, standing on a platform with Annika while she made final adjustments to one of the models wearing the sapphire gown. The dress looked even better than I imagined. I hoped she was ready to become a household name.”
“Adrian!” Elizabeth waved me over, excitement radiating from her. “Look at it. It’s perfect. It’s exactly what we envisioned.”
“It’s incredible,” I said honestly. “Elizabeth, this is going to blow people away.”
“We have to credit Annika too. She’s the one who made my sketches a reality.” Elizabeth gestured to where Annika was pinning a hem. “I couldn’t have done any of this without her.”
“True,” Annika said without looking up. “But the vision is yours. I just executed it.”
“These are going to change everything for you,” I told Elizabeth, pulling her aside while Annika worked. “After tonight, your name will be everywhere. Every publication, every fashion blog. This is your moment.”
“I’m terrified,” she admitted.
“Good. That means you care.” I tilted her chin up. “But Elizabeth, you’ve already proven you can handle anything. Two weeks ago, you couldn’t stand in front of a camera. Now you’re about to debut your collection at Milan Fashion Week. You’ve got this.”
“Only because you pushed me. Because you believed in me.”
“I just saw what was already there.” I kissed her forehead. “Now go help Annika with final adjustments. I need to check on a few things before the show starts.”
Tonight, the world would see what I’d seen from the beginning.
Elizabeth Laramie was extraordinary.
I couldn’t wait to watch her take her first step into the world.