Breed Me Cursed Alpha (Lyra and Ronan) novel Chapter 15

HANNAH’S POV:

A WEEK LATER:

“We need to change this…”

“Are the makeup artists present and have the girls started getting their hair done?”

“Hold on, where is Maya and have my kids arrived with Lucas?”

My voice was sharp, cutting through the whirlwind of chatter backstage. The Duncan Fashion Festival was the event of the season. Every camera that mattered was here. Every fashion critic that could build or ruin a reputation was already sipping champagne in the front row. And yet, my backstage looked like a storm had just ripped through it. Assistants ran left and right, stylists squatted over models adjusting hems, and hair dryers and straighteners roared like engines.

My stress levels were through the roof. And as everyone knew, I was a perfectionist. Not the kind that frowned over crooked stitches, though I did that too sometimes but the kind who believed every detail mattered. One slip, one error, and the press would run with it for weeks. It would drive me crazy that just because I missed a single detail, everything else didn’t matter.

I sighed heavily and pushed my way through a group of assistants balancing a dozen bags. I slipped into my dressing room and shut the door behind me harder than I intended.

The silence that followed was comforting.

I pressed my back to the door, let my head fall against it, and exhaled. For a moment, I let my eyes close. Just one

moment to reset.

The handle clicked, and the door creaked open about a second after.

Kara, my assistant, peeked in before stepping fully inside.

“Mrs. Jones,” she started carefully, “I wanted to let you know your kids are yet to arrive with Mr. Lucas. I gave him a call, and he said he’d call you any moment from now. Also, the models need about twenty more minutes before they’re ready. We go out by five, so they should be all ready before then but you need to also start getting ready.”

I nodded, pushing off the door. “Fine.”

“And… the guests, elites, reporters, celebrities, they’re all arriving already, just as the organizers assured. Everything is going to go smoothly, ma’am, and….” She trailed off and her smile faltered. A distant, tinny voice crackled in her earpiece. Her eyes darted to mine, wide and uneasy.

My stomach dropped. “What’s the problem now?”

Kara swallowed, then without answering, spun on her heels and dashed back into the hallway.

My pulse quickened. I muttered a curse under my breath and hurried after her. The sound hit me before I even reached the dressing area: raised voices, mischievous laughter, the unmistakable sharp edge of an argument brewing.

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When I stepped into the models’ room, the sight almost made me laugh if it hadn’t been so disastrous.

Two groups of models stood opposite each other like rival gangs. On one side, my models: tall, sleek, dressed in emerald silky dresses, their makeup already perfected. On the other, the rival designer’s models, wearing dramatic reds and blacks, like walking flames. And between them tension so thick it could be felt by anybody.

“What is going on here?” I demanded, my voice cutting through the chaos.

One of my models, Celeste, she was blonde and the epitome of the beauty standard, she snapped her head toward me and said in an accusatory tone. “Mrs. Jones, they’re trying to sabotage us!”

“That’s not true!” another voice shot back in the matter of a second this time from one of Sienna Vale’s models. Sienna. Of course. She’d been my biggest competition last season and although we had never met in person I knew she hated my guts. We were always clawing for the same contracts, the same headlines.

“She’s lying!” Celeste argued, pointing a manicured finger across the room. “I saw her tugging at the hem of one of the gowns. If Kara hadn’t stepped in, the stitching would’ve ripped right there!”

Gasps erupted from the group, my own included especially those still seated and getting their makeups done.

“That’s ridiculous!” the other model exclaimed, crossing her arms. “Your dress is obviously cheap if a tug could ruin it. Don’t blame us for your sloppy work.” She smirked like she had been planning that line for days and she was excited to see how it will all play.

I instantly jerked my head back and towards her and my blood heated. “Excuse me?”

I stepped forward. “Nothing about my collection is sloppy. Watch your tone.”

The girl faltered, her eyes darting away, but her teammates smirked.

Another of Sienna’s models added in a low tone, rolling her eyes. “Everyone knows Mrs. Jones is only back because the company is running to the ground. We might have just wanted to help things go there faster.”

Gasps and whispers filled through the room. My models flared up, taking a defensive step toward me.

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