Chapter Forty
NINA
Present Day
NEW YORK CITY
There’s no way,” I said, a little too loudly.
Inaya looked up, one perfectly groomed brow lifting. “No way what?”
“Nothing,” I muttered, waving her off. “Just… something I’m Googling.”
But my eyes stayed glued to the screen.
After our breakup five years ago, Ronan had sworn he hadn’t been with anyone else. I hadn’t believed him then.
How could I?
A man like Ronan, with his face, his money, his power, his effortless magnetism, didn’t go untouched for five years. It sounded ridiculous.
For the last few hours, I’d been digging through everything. Gossip blogs. Society pages. Tabloids. Social media. Archive after archive.
Nothing.
No girlfriends.
No models.
No scandals.
No blurry late-night photos.
Only Ronan with his friends, their wives, and an endless string of business events.
My stomach twisted.
“By the way,” Inaya said, suddenly bright, “we have an event tonight. I was thinking you wear that black dress you brought in case and I—”
I looked up, my brain scrambling to catch up. “We have a what?”
She crossed the room and turned her tablet toward me.
An invitation glowed on the screen.
Eminence Models NYC
Gala of Elegance
The Plaza Hotel
7:00 PM
My breath caught.
“This came in when?” I asked.
“Two days ago,” she said. “I only just saw it. Should I RSVP?”
My nerves sparked, but so did something stronger.
“Yes,” I said. “Tell them we’ll be there.”
This was exactly the kind of room I needed to be in.
Inaya beamed. “Good. Now—” she glanced at the sketches on the table “—what are we working with?”
I slid the designs toward her, excitement finally winning over anxiety.
“Louis Vuitton’s winter collection,” I said. “The original concept was fine, but I needed it to be unforgettable.”
I pointed to the first sketch: a midnight-blue coat, silver embroidery glinting like frost under runway lights.
“This is the showstopper.”
Inaya leaned closer. “Oh wow.”
“And these,” I said, flipping the page, “are the day pieces. Burgundy, forest green, oversized knits, clean tailoring. Winter without being heavy.”
Her eyes lit up as she studied each line.
“This,” I added, stopping on an emerald silk gown, “is the evening wear. Simple, but look at that neckline. That’s what makes people remember it.”
“They’re going to lose their minds,” Inaya breathed.
“They already are,” I said, smiling. “Louis Vuitton’s obsessed.”
Her grin widened. “You’re really doing this.”
For the first time in a long time, I felt like I was.
Then her gaze drifted to the table behind me, where that ridiculously expensive purse Ronan gifted me sat. The Mouawad 1001 Nights Diamond Purse.
Her breath hitched. “Is that…?”
“Yes.”
Her eyes went huge. “Nina, that’s a four-million-euro bag.”
“I know.”
“And you’re letting it sit there like it’s a tote from Zara?”
I laughed weakly. “It was a gift.”
Her eyes slowly slid to mine. “Ronan.”
I froze. “How do you know?”
She gently set the bag down. “Because I know you and because only one man on this planet would do something that insane for you. Also… you’ve been smiling again.”
I exhaled.
“I’m not hiding it,” I said quietly. “There’s nothing to hide.”
She squeezed my arm. “Then don’t. If you want him in your life, do it. Second chances can be worth it, and you deserve a happy ending.”
The ballroom at The Plaza shimmered like something pulled from a dream. Crystal chandeliers scattered light across marble floors, and the low hum of music and conversation rose toward the gilded ceilings.
I stepped inside, nerves and anticipation tangling in my chest as my midnight-blue gown caught the light, the sequins glinting with every step. I reached up and adjusted the necklace my mother had given me, grounding myself in its familiar weight.
Inaya walked beside me, her emerald abaya and matching hijab striking against the sea of couture. Where I felt like I was vibrating from the inside out, she was calm and steady.
“Breathe, Nina,” she murmured.
I let out a quiet laugh and did exactly that as we moved deeper into the room.
“Ah—Nina.”
Julia appeared with her polished smile, already guiding us forward. “I’d love for you to meet our director of event coordination and operations, Ms. Hana Zhou.”
The woman beside her was stunning. Her silk-satin gown was a deep, luxurious red, rose-shaped appliqués climbing the skirt before trailing into a dramatic train. The craftsmanship alone made my fingers itch to touch the fabric.
This was serious work.
I extended my hand. “It’s a pleasure.”
She took it with a firm, elegant grip. “Ms. Moretti, I’ve been eager to meet you. Your show and the Vogue behind-the-scenes footage were extraordinary. The industry is buzzing about you.”
I exhaled slowly, only then realizing I’d been holding my breath. “Thank you. That means a lot.”
I turned slightly. “This is Inaya Abbas, my right hand and the true genius behind my brand.”
Inaya shot me a look that said, don’t you dare, but Ms. Zhou smiled warmly.
“A pleasure, Ms. Abbas.”
“Nina and her team are expanding here in New York,” Julia added.
“Oh?” Ms. Zhou’s gaze sharpened with interest. “Opening a boutique?”
“I am,” I said, swallowing. “We’re still hunting for the right space.”
“You will find it,” she said with quiet confidence.
“And your dress,” I added, unable to help myself. “It’s beautiful.”
Her lips curved. “Do you recognize the fabric?”
“Silk satin,” I replied. “At first glance, it reads red, but it’s really a blend of maroon and crimson.”
Her eyes lit with approval. “A true designer’s eye. You’ll do very well in this industry, dear.”
Then she left.
I stood there for a moment, my pulse still racing, before scanning the room. Designer showcases lined the walls, mannequins draped in masterpieces I’d studied for years. Faces I’d only ever seen on screens now passed me in real life.
Then I saw two designers who inspire me the most.
Melaine Christie.
Justina Devereux.
My breath caught.
Inaya nudged me. “Go.”
So I did.
They greeted us warmly, their attention focused on me in a way that felt unreal.
“It’s an honor to meet you,” I said, shaking their hands. “Your work has inspired me for years.”
“We’ve heard wonderful things about you, Ms. Moretti,” Justina said. “We’re excited to see what you bring to the runway.”
Pride flared through me, followed quickly by doubt.
Could I stand beside names like theirs?
I straightened my shoulders.
I wasn’t here by accident.
I was here because I earned it.