One Night With My Alpha Professor novel Chapter 279

Chapter 279 

Audrey 

Edwin and I emerged from the small room, his hand still resting protectively on my back. The hustle and bustle of last- minute preparations immediately hit us, assistants running back and forth, models being ushered into position, and the soft hum of the audience’s chatter drifting through the walls. 

“I guess no one would have noticed our little tryst anyway,” Edwin mused under his breath with a smirk. 

I glanced up at him, wiggling my eyebrows suggestively. But a sound caused us both to whip our heads toward the dressing 

area. 

“Owww! My ankle!” 

Exchanging worried glances, Edwin and I rushed toward the sound. A small group had gathered in a huddle near the back of the dressing area. In the center of the commotion was a young woman, one of the models, seated on a chair with her head in her hands. Her shoulders shook as she cried out. 

I hurried over, Edwin following closely behind. 

“What happened?” I asked, kneeling in front of the model. She looked up at me, her face pale, tears clinging to her lashes. “I–I twisted my ankle really bad,” she stammered, wincing as she shifted her foot slightly. “I was fine earlier, but it hurts to put any weight on it now…” 

Someone behind her chimed in, “She tripped backstage. I thought she’d just shaken it off, but…” 

I glanced down at her ankle, which was already beginning to swell slightly under the delicate straps of her shoe. The show was minutes from starting. Panic might have been setting in, but I couldn’t afford that luxury–not now. 

I took a calming breath, tapping into that silver pool of energy inside of me. With a reassuring smile, I reached out to touch/ her ankle. “May I?” I asked. 

She winced, flinching away. 

“It’s alright,” I murmured. “I’ll help you.” 

After a moment of hesitation, the model finally nodded and allowed me 

touch her ankle. 

Slowly, I let that familiar flow of my healing power flow from my fingertips. It started off as a cool stream, like trickling water, but then turned warm. 

It only took a few seconds. I felt the tension in the model’s ankle release, her muscles relaxing as the pain ebbed away. She let out a low breath as if relieved. 

“There,” I whispered, pulling my hand back. “Try it now.” 

Hesitantly, she moved her foot, flexing her ankle with a look of surprise and relief on her face. Her tears began to fade as she looked at me. 

“It doesn’t hurt anymore,” she breathed, a smile breaking through. “Thank you, Luna. Really… thank you.” 

I nodded, rising. “It’s what I’m here for. Now, get into place–you’re going to be amazing out there.” 

With that, the model got to her feet, her previous limp now gone. The relief from the surrounding crew was palpable, and I looked up at Edwin, I saw a look of pride in his eyes. He gave me a subtle thumbs–up. 

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17:15 Tue, Nov 19 

Chapter 279 

“Alright, everyone,” the stage manager said, clapping her hands together. “It’s go time!” 

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As the lights dimmed and the music began to play, a hush fell over the audience. I slipped into the shadows by the side of 

stage, watching as the first model stepped into the spotlight. 

The first piece was a set made by Edwin, in his classic Brooks Designs style: a matching trousers and blazer set with an oversized, masculine fit. The shoulders draped easily over the model’s slender form, her pointed–toe heels clicking as she strutted down the runway. 

From here, the silver and gold threads that he had used to stitch everything together glimmered under the stage lights. Cameras flashed, the crowd oohing and ahhing over the piece. 

Next was a stunning slip dress made by my mother in a warm gold tone. The plunging neckline accentuated the model’s bust, the strappy heels and golden arm bands making her look as if she was bound by gold threads. Her hair was long and straight, cascading down her back like a dark brunette waterfall. 

One by one, each piece made its way down the runway, each model a vision of the countless hours, the intricate stitching, the late–night sketches, and the dreams the three of us had poured into this collection. My heart swelled close to bursting as I watched our designs come to life. 

And as I watched, I felt a hand slip into mine. I glanced up, finding Edwin beside me, his gaze focused on the runway but his approval humming through the bond. My mother stood on my other side, wrapping her arm around my shoulders. 

A lump rose in my throat, and I couldn’t even speak. None of us could. We just watched in awe, holding each other. Piece after piece walked the runway, and the audience’s murmurs of appreciation grew louder, a few exclamations of awe reaching my ears as each new design was revealed. It seemed that our collection was being received well. Very well. 

But then, finally, it was time for the final piece. 

I felt my heart leap into my throat, my hands tightening around Edwin and my mother. I hoped that this piece wasn’t too out there, too eccentric. I hoped that people would understand the meaning behind it and not see it as a big jumble of 

nonsense. 

The music shifted, switching to a haunting melody as the final model stepped onto the runway. I held my breath as she took her first step, the fabric billowing out behind her. 

The gown was massive, a masterpiece of layered gold and silver, with Joseph’s drawings interwoven into every inch of the design. There were the cheerful drawings he’d shown me, the flowers and birds and rays of sunlight. But there were also the darker ones, the shadows, the scars from his past. I’d incorporated all of them, happy or sad. 

And there were hundreds, all of them coalescing into the train at the back of the gown. 

The train of the gown trailed behind her, stretching the entire length of the runway as she made her way down, like a flowing sea of drawings. I clasped my hands together as I watched, not even daring to breathe. 

I felt the room grow still, the audience leaning in. Even the cameras stopped flashing. 

My stomach began to twist, sickness overcoming me. My mother’s arm tightened around my shoulders. Edwin moved closer, and I could hardly even feel either of them breathing beside me. 

The audience… 

“They don’t… like it…” I whispered, tears pricking my eyes.