Chapter 41
ADRIAN
Elizabeth was up and out of her seat before I could stop her. I stayed in my seat for a grueling ten minutes through the end of the show. I didn’t want to make a scene.
Fuck, Dash. What the hell?
We had gone over the way things were going to go. We had the logo. The music. The fucking dresses. Every detail had been meticulously planned, checked, and double-checked. I’d personally sat in on the tech rehearsals. I’d seen the graphics package. Everything had been perfect.
Somewhere, someone fucked up.
And I had no idea where Elizabeth was. I couldn’t imagine what she was thinking right now.
No, scratch that. I knew exactly what she was thinking.
She was thinking I was a dick that stole her thunder.
That I’d used her, manipulated her, and played her for a fool.
That every moment we’d spent together had been part of some elaborate scheme to exploit her talent and claim it as my own.
And I had. Who the fuck put my name up there?
When I saw my name, it didn’t immediately occur to me that something had gone wrong. How many shows had I sat through? Hundreds. Thousands, maybe. I was used to seeing my name up there, used to the Blackwell Couture logo dominating the screens. It was background noise, expected, automatic.
And then it hit me. My name wasn’t supposed to be up there.
By the time my brain picked up what was going on, she was out of her seat and running.
I’d reached for her instinctively, but she was too fast. I got trapped in the middle of a row with buyers and editors on either side of me.
All I could do was watch her disappear through the backstage entrance.
I couldn’t believe I watched her moment—the one she’d worked so hard for—crumble to dust.
When it was appropriate, I slipped away.
Even then, I had to shake off three different journalists who wanted comments.
I dodged a buyer from Bergdorf’s who insisted on five minutes.
Any other show, and I would have given him an hour.
But I didn’t have the time. Every second felt like an eternity. Every delay was torture.
I found Elizabeth in a back hallway, pressed against the wall, crying like her heart was breaking.
Because it was. I’d watched it shatter in real time.
I watched the joy drain from her face the moment those screens lit up with my name instead of hers.
I’d seen her excitement—pure, unfiltered happiness—transform into confusion, then betrayal, then devastation in the span of three seconds.
It was like watching someone get hit by a bus in slow motion, knowing you were powerless to stop it.
“Elizabeth.” I approached carefully, like she was a wounded animal that might bolt. “I didn’t know. I swear to God, I didn’t know the graphics were wrong.”
“Whatever. It’s your show, right?” Her voice was flat, hollow. Defeated in a way that made my stomach twist.
“Elizabeth, that’s not what that was.”
“Why did you make me waste time on that stupid logo?” she asked.
Tears streamed down her face, mascara creating dark tracks down her cheeks.
“You made a complete ass out of me. You had me sitting there designing something you were never going to use. Was that fun for you? Watching me care about something that didn’t matter? ”
“Elizabeth, I didn’t make an ass out of you,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady even as rage and guilt warred inside me.
“It was a mistake. You’ve been doing this for a week.
You know how these shows go. There are always mistakes.
Sound cues get missed. Models trip. Lighting fails.
Seams split. I work my ass off to try and prevent those mistakes, but there is always something.
Always. And this wasn’t my show. You know it was a mistake. You saw the graphics.”
It was a shitty copout, but it was true. If this had been my show, I would have absolutely made sure the logo was right. I would have checked it myself, would have stood over the graphics team’s shoulder until I saw Elizabeth’s name on those screens with my own eyes.
I was going to kick Dash’s ass.
She let out a long sigh. And then raised her chin like she was preparing for battle. “I know,” she murmured.
That was not what I expected.
“You know?”
“I know shit happens. I know you worked on that logo. It’s fine.” She wiped at her tears, but they kept coming, an endless stream she couldn’t control. “I know you didn’t intentionally fuck me over. It was a mistake. Oh well, right?”
I was confused. Was she being sarcastic? I had no idea. I didn’t want to make it worse by asking. So, I was going to just assume she was being real.
“Then why are you so crushed?”
“Because it still happened!” Her voice broke on another choked sob.
“It doesn’t matter if it was intentional or not.
Three thousand people just watched my designs get credited to you.
Editors. Buyers. Influencers. Everyone who matters in fashion was in that room.
That was supposed to be my moment, Adrian.
My introduction to the fashion world. My chance to prove I belonged here.
And now it’s just gone. I’m sorry, but how can I trust you?
I know I’m new to this world, but I know how this game works.
It happened in school. People steal ideas.
Designs. Credit. It happens all the time.
The industry practically runs on it. I just—I wish you would have just told me up front you weren’t going to credit me.
Why make me go through the whole logo thing? Why let me believe this was real?”
The devastation in her voice killed me. The way she was looking at me made me want to tear down the entire venue brick by brick.
“I’ll fix it. Right now. I’ll go out there and make an announcement.
I’ll issue a press release tonight. I’ll get you on every morning show and every fashion podcast. I’ll make sure everyone knows those designs were yours.
I’ll shout it from every platform we have until there’s no question about who made those designs. ”
“No.” She shook her head violently. “No, Adrian, you can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because Fashion of Love Week isn’t my show.
It’s yours. Your family’s. This whole thing was meant to honor your father and prove Blackwell Couture is still strong.
” She was still crying, but her voice was steadier now, taking on that practical, analytical tone that meant she was thinking three steps ahead.
“If you make some big announcement, it’ll overshadow everything.
It’ll become about this mistake instead of about the success you’ve built.
Instead of talking about the beautiful designs and the triumph of the Blackwell brothers carrying on their father’s legacy, everyone will be talking about the drama. ”
“I don’t care.”
“But I do.” She looked at me with red-rimmed eyes.
That’s when I saw it in her eyes. Resignation. Like she’d already decided this was just how things were going to be.
She wiped her face again. The tears stopped.
“This week was supposed to restore confidence in your company. You are supposed to show the world the Blackwell brothers can carry on your father’s legacy. I’m not going to be the reason that narrative gets hijacked. I’m not going to be the scandal that overshadows everything you’ve worked for.”
“Elizabeth, your credit matters more than any of that. We’re going to be fine.”
“It’s fine.” But her voice said it wasn’t fine at all. “It was a mistake. These things happen. Life goes on.”
I watched her try to compose herself. And that’s when I realized just how amazing she was.
Everything she’d worked for was on the table. And she was willing to let it all go to protect my family’s legacy and our company’s reputation.
No one had ever done that for me before. People in this industry were ruthless, cutthroat, and very willing to throw anyone under the bus for their own advancement. And here was Elizabeth, who had every right to be furious, choosing to protect me instead.
“Elizabeth, I can’t just let this go.”
“You have to.” She straightened her shoulders, trying to pull herself together even as her voice wavered. “You need to be thinking about New York. The finale. That’s what matters. That’s what everyone will remember, not some technical glitch in Milan.”
“This was your debut.”
“And now it’s over.” She took a shaky breath.
“I’m fine, Adrian. I shouldn’t have expected anything.
It was enough to have my dresses on that stage.
I’m not going to pout about not getting my name out there.
I have to pay my dues. Just because I fell into a very fortunate situation doesn’t mean I get to take advantage.
I’m willing to wait my turn. This wasn’t it. ”
I wanted to argue. But the look on her face stopped me. She was barely holding it together. Pushing her now would only make it worse.
“Okay,” I said quietly.
She took a deep, shaky breath. “You really should get out there,” she said. “You’re Adrian Blackwell. People need to hear from you. They need to see you.”
The resignation in her tone made my chest ache. She was giving up, accepting this injustice because she didn’t want to cause problems. Because even now, even after everything, she was putting everyone else first.
“I’m going to fix this,” I said firmly. “I’m going to get you the credit you deserve. Whether you want me to or not.”
“Adrian—”
“But you’re right about not hijacking tonight.
” I ran a hand through my hair, frustrated.
“If it was just me and it was my show, I wouldn’t care about the optics.
I’d march out there right now and damn the consequences.
But this is all four of us. This is Dad’s legacy.
We can’t make it about a technical error. ”
She nodded. “I should go. Let you get back to the show. I’ll get a taxi. I’m really not interested in celebrating tonight.”
“Elizabeth, wait.”
But she was already walking away, disappearing into the backstage chaos before I could stop her. I stood there for a moment, fury and helplessness warring inside me. Then I went to find Dash.
He was exactly where I’d left him.
“Adrian, I’m so sorry. The graphics team swears they uploaded the right file, but somehow the old version—”
“I know. It’s done.” I kept my voice level, professional. “This is your show, your night. I don’t want to step on your toes or take liberties, but we need to correct this somehow.”
“Just make an announcement at the end. When everyone’s on stage, grab the mic, explain there was a technical error, give Elizabeth her proper credit.” Dash said it like it was obvious. “Problem solved.”
Relief flooded through me. “You’re sure? You don’t mind?”
“Mind? Adrian, those dresses were incredible. Elizabeth deserves recognition for them. I’m the one who should be apologizing—it was my show, my team that fucked up.” He clapped my shoulder. “Make the announcement. Set the record straight. It’s the right thing to do.”
“Thank you.” I meant it. “I know you put Elizabeth’s pieces in as a favor to me.”
“I put them in because they were good enough to be in the show. Don’t diminish her talent by making it about favors.” He glanced over my shoulder. “Though you might want to hold up on that announcement.”
I turned to find Sebastian approaching, his expression grim, phone in hand.
“We’ve got trouble,” Sebastian said without preamble.
I groaned. What else? “What kind of trouble?”