FLORENCE’S POVI stood there for a long time. Longer than I should have.I should have asked him why he was looking for me despite choosing Jade. I should have asked him why he ended up bloodied and broken in the hospital. I should have asked him if he ever found Daniel after speaking to Emily. If Daniel was the cause of the scars on his face. I should have done lots of things. But all I could do was replay his words in my head. Can we still be good friends?So gentle. So final.It was like I’d stepped outside my own body during the conversation and only now—now that he was gone—had I reentered it.The music had shifted, the crowd moved around me, but I felt frozen. Like I was watching my own life through a glass window.I smoothed down my dress. Straightened my spine. Took a slow, steady breath.Right.I had a good life. I was in Paris. I had a kind, loving man waiting for me. A man who saw me. Who never needed reminding to listen.I wasn’t the girl standing outside a glass wall an
FLORENCE’S POVMy silence stretched just a little too long. I could feel it. That uncomfortable beat of tension, the kind where everyone realizes someone in the group is no longer smiling.Rosa jumped in quickly, her tone light but purposeful. “Dad, don’t be weird. Florence is his girlfriend.”Ashton blinked, visibly startled. “Oh! I—really?” He looked at me, hands raised in surrender, flashing a sheepish grin. “Well, damn. I’m sorry, Florence. I meant it as a joke.”I forced a smile. “All good.”But it wasn’t. Not really.The conversation moved on, but something in me had curled inward. Raiden and Ashton returned to talking about next season’s silhouettes, material shortages, and the problem with micro-trends killing long-term vision. Rosa threw in a comment here and there, mostly teasing her father, while I lingered behind them like a quiet accessory to someone else’s night.Their words blurred in my ears. I felt small—again.Invisible, the way I used to feel at events where Mason
FLORENCE’S POVMy heart thumped wildly in my chest as I immediately switched apps, fumbling slightly with my trembling fingers. My thumbs flew across the keyboard, rapidly typing a frantic message to Emily.Where are you? That pic behind you was stolen from a gallery a few nights ago??The screen glowed softly as I hit send. My throat tightened as I watched Emily’s status shift from offline to online. The little green check marks appeared, signaling that she had read the message.Seconds passed. My breath stalled in my chest.Then, abruptly, Emily’s status returned to offline.My stomach churned. It felt intentional—heavy and pointed, like a slammed door in my face.“What’s got you all stressed?” Rosa asked from across the table. Her voice startled me back into the noisy café where we’d been laughing just minutes ago.I blinked, trying to shake away the anxious haze clouding my thoughts. “It’s nothing, it’s just some silly family drama.”Rosa’s eyes brightened mischievously, her lips
FLORENCE’S POVWe stood in silence for a few seconds, waiting. Rosa leaned in and gently pressed her ear to the door like she’d done this kind of thing before.“Anything?” I whispered, my voice barely above a breath.She held her position for another beat, then pulled back. “Nope. Seems like it’s empty.”I let out a small sigh. “Okay, maybe—”“Florence?”I nearly screamed. I spun around with my whole body, stumbling back a step. My heart jumped straight into my throat.A guy with tousled curls and splattered paint on his sweatshirt stood a few feet away, carrying a canvas under one arm. His expression lit up when he saw me.“Ian,” I blurted out, instantly recognizing him.He grinned. “Wow, you remember me!”Of course I remembered him. We’d met on that yacht I was checking out for the Eternity-Amora event a few months back. He was one of the hopeful photographers trying to land a commission. He’d given me his card, a sheepish smile, and a surprisingly good portfolio. I’d meant to rea
FLORENCE’S POVAs soon as Rosa and I reached her studio, I immediately grabbed her laptop. My fingers shook slightly as I typed in the gossip websites, terrified of what I might find. The screen quickly filled with images, headlines, and notifications—and there it was. Exactly as Emily had said.Her nude photos were everywhere.“Oh my god…” Rosa whispered behind me, leaning closer to see the screen. “This is so messed up. What sick asshole would do something like this?” Her voice tightened, anger radiating from every word. “I swear to god, when I find him…”I took a deep breath, pushing down the panic rising in my chest. “Can you tell where these photos were taken?”Rosa squinted, carefully scanning every detail on the screen, her eyes flicking rapidly back and forth. She shook her head slowly. “Honestly? There’s no windows, doors, or distinguishing features. It’s artificial lighting and a professional backdrop. Whoever took these photos knew exactly what they were doing. It looks li
FLORENCE’S POVEmily stared at the wine glass in her hand like she couldn’t remember how it got there.The room had quieted now. We’d coaxed her into eating something—a small plate of pasta and a few forkfuls of salad—and poured her half a glass of red. She hadn’t said much. She wasn’t crying anymore, but the silence around her wasn’t peace. It was a void.We sat around the little dining table in her suite, lit only by the dim overhead light and the soft glow from the city outside the windows. Rosa sat beside Emily, one protective hand resting lightly on her forearm. Rosa hadn’t even met Emily before this night, but had practically adopted her by that point. I was on her other side. Across from us, Raiden had flipped open his tablet and was already in fix-it mode.“I suggest we start with the basics,” Raiden said calmly, tapping through his notes. “Natalie, you’ll need to call the police. File a formal report. The earlier we do it, the better. Even if it doesn’t lead to anything imme
FLORENCE’S POVOnce Emily confirmed she was okay with doing the nude shoot—completely on her terms, no pressure—we got to work.It wasn’t even sunrise yet when I sent the first text, barely able to feel my fingers after such an emotionally wrecking night. But there was no time to sleep. We had a window—small and delicate—and I was determined to help her step through it.I remembered an art director I’d met at Fashion Week just a few days ago. French, sharp, and wildly creative, she’d shown me a campaign she did for a sustainable lingerie brand that felt more like a gallery exhibit than an ad. I’d tucked her number into my phone, not thinking I’d need it anytime soon.Now I was dialing with barely a second thought.Her response came in instantly.Florence? Mon dieu, I would die to work with you.I didn’t even need to explain much—just that it would be raw, elegant, empowering, and fast. That was enough. She was in.I’d never done anything this last-minute in my life.Usually, shoots to
FLORENCE’S POVOn the night of my husband’s birthday, I placed the cake I’d spent five hours making on the dining table, feeling a flicker of hope. Maybe this time would be different. Maybe he’d walk in, see the effort I’d put in, and smile—really smile—like he used to. Maybe, just for one night, we could be something close to happy.The front door beeped. My heart skipped, anticipation bubbling in my chest. I turned, ready to greet him.Just as Mason spotted the cake, his face turned sour. “Didn’t I tell you not to do this?” he sighed, “I have a jet waiting to take me to Chicago right now.” Even tired from his long day, he looked handsome in his tailor-made designer suit, like the wealthy, powerful CEO he was. I took the cake plate in my hands and went up to him, a big smile on my face. But he didn’t look as happy to see me. “Just take one bite of the cake,” I begged. “It’s your favorite, and I made it myself!” He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Florence, I only
FLORENCE’S POVOnce Emily confirmed she was okay with doing the nude shoot—completely on her terms, no pressure—we got to work.It wasn’t even sunrise yet when I sent the first text, barely able to feel my fingers after such an emotionally wrecking night. But there was no time to sleep. We had a window—small and delicate—and I was determined to help her step through it.I remembered an art director I’d met at Fashion Week just a few days ago. French, sharp, and wildly creative, she’d shown me a campaign she did for a sustainable lingerie brand that felt more like a gallery exhibit than an ad. I’d tucked her number into my phone, not thinking I’d need it anytime soon.Now I was dialing with barely a second thought.Her response came in instantly.Florence? Mon dieu, I would die to work with you.I didn’t even need to explain much—just that it would be raw, elegant, empowering, and fast. That was enough. She was in.I’d never done anything this last-minute in my life.Usually, shoots to
FLORENCE’S POVEmily stared at the wine glass in her hand like she couldn’t remember how it got there.The room had quieted now. We’d coaxed her into eating something—a small plate of pasta and a few forkfuls of salad—and poured her half a glass of red. She hadn’t said much. She wasn’t crying anymore, but the silence around her wasn’t peace. It was a void.We sat around the little dining table in her suite, lit only by the dim overhead light and the soft glow from the city outside the windows. Rosa sat beside Emily, one protective hand resting lightly on her forearm. Rosa hadn’t even met Emily before this night, but had practically adopted her by that point. I was on her other side. Across from us, Raiden had flipped open his tablet and was already in fix-it mode.“I suggest we start with the basics,” Raiden said calmly, tapping through his notes. “Natalie, you’ll need to call the police. File a formal report. The earlier we do it, the better. Even if it doesn’t lead to anything imme
FLORENCE’S POVAs soon as Rosa and I reached her studio, I immediately grabbed her laptop. My fingers shook slightly as I typed in the gossip websites, terrified of what I might find. The screen quickly filled with images, headlines, and notifications—and there it was. Exactly as Emily had said.Her nude photos were everywhere.“Oh my god…” Rosa whispered behind me, leaning closer to see the screen. “This is so messed up. What sick asshole would do something like this?” Her voice tightened, anger radiating from every word. “I swear to god, when I find him…”I took a deep breath, pushing down the panic rising in my chest. “Can you tell where these photos were taken?”Rosa squinted, carefully scanning every detail on the screen, her eyes flicking rapidly back and forth. She shook her head slowly. “Honestly? There’s no windows, doors, or distinguishing features. It’s artificial lighting and a professional backdrop. Whoever took these photos knew exactly what they were doing. It looks li
FLORENCE’S POVWe stood in silence for a few seconds, waiting. Rosa leaned in and gently pressed her ear to the door like she’d done this kind of thing before.“Anything?” I whispered, my voice barely above a breath.She held her position for another beat, then pulled back. “Nope. Seems like it’s empty.”I let out a small sigh. “Okay, maybe—”“Florence?”I nearly screamed. I spun around with my whole body, stumbling back a step. My heart jumped straight into my throat.A guy with tousled curls and splattered paint on his sweatshirt stood a few feet away, carrying a canvas under one arm. His expression lit up when he saw me.“Ian,” I blurted out, instantly recognizing him.He grinned. “Wow, you remember me!”Of course I remembered him. We’d met on that yacht I was checking out for the Eternity-Amora event a few months back. He was one of the hopeful photographers trying to land a commission. He’d given me his card, a sheepish smile, and a surprisingly good portfolio. I’d meant to rea
FLORENCE’S POVMy heart thumped wildly in my chest as I immediately switched apps, fumbling slightly with my trembling fingers. My thumbs flew across the keyboard, rapidly typing a frantic message to Emily.Where are you? That pic behind you was stolen from a gallery a few nights ago??The screen glowed softly as I hit send. My throat tightened as I watched Emily’s status shift from offline to online. The little green check marks appeared, signaling that she had read the message.Seconds passed. My breath stalled in my chest.Then, abruptly, Emily’s status returned to offline.My stomach churned. It felt intentional—heavy and pointed, like a slammed door in my face.“What’s got you all stressed?” Rosa asked from across the table. Her voice startled me back into the noisy café where we’d been laughing just minutes ago.I blinked, trying to shake away the anxious haze clouding my thoughts. “It’s nothing, it’s just some silly family drama.”Rosa’s eyes brightened mischievously, her lips
FLORENCE’S POVMy silence stretched just a little too long. I could feel it. That uncomfortable beat of tension, the kind where everyone realizes someone in the group is no longer smiling.Rosa jumped in quickly, her tone light but purposeful. “Dad, don’t be weird. Florence is his girlfriend.”Ashton blinked, visibly startled. “Oh! I—really?” He looked at me, hands raised in surrender, flashing a sheepish grin. “Well, damn. I’m sorry, Florence. I meant it as a joke.”I forced a smile. “All good.”But it wasn’t. Not really.The conversation moved on, but something in me had curled inward. Raiden and Ashton returned to talking about next season’s silhouettes, material shortages, and the problem with micro-trends killing long-term vision. Rosa threw in a comment here and there, mostly teasing her father, while I lingered behind them like a quiet accessory to someone else’s night.Their words blurred in my ears. I felt small—again.Invisible, the way I used to feel at events where Mason
FLORENCE’S POVI stood there for a long time. Longer than I should have.I should have asked him why he was looking for me despite choosing Jade. I should have asked him why he ended up bloodied and broken in the hospital. I should have asked him if he ever found Daniel after speaking to Emily. If Daniel was the cause of the scars on his face. I should have done lots of things. But all I could do was replay his words in my head. Can we still be good friends?So gentle. So final.It was like I’d stepped outside my own body during the conversation and only now—now that he was gone—had I reentered it.The music had shifted, the crowd moved around me, but I felt frozen. Like I was watching my own life through a glass window.I smoothed down my dress. Straightened my spine. Took a slow, steady breath.Right.I had a good life. I was in Paris. I had a kind, loving man waiting for me. A man who saw me. Who never needed reminding to listen.I wasn’t the girl standing outside a glass wall an
FLORENCE’S POV“What are you guys doing in Paris anyway?” Emily asked, adjusting the strap of her designer bag like it was a microphone she planned to drop at any moment.“Oh, just… on vacation,” I replied.She raised her eyebrows, clearly impressed. “Wow. It’s serious if you’re taking holidays together.”I shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Yeah, you know it’s going well since—”“I don’t care for details,” she said quickly, waving me off like I was about to bore her to death. “I’m meeting someone else later anyway. Young photographer, super cute and very into me. Which is exactly what I need after the narcissist that was Daniel.”“Um… okay. Bye, I guess?”But she was already halfway down the corridor, disappearing into the post-show haze of crew members and models packing up.I lingered a moment, unsure of what to feel about that whole interaction. Then, I turned back toward the main venue, scanning for Raiden in the sea of guests. I spotted him near the refreshments, chatting anima
FLORENCE’S POVAs soon as the final model stepped off the runway and the lights began to rise, I rose from my seat like a fire had been lit beneath me.“I’ll be right back,” I told Raiden.He blinked in surprise but didn’t stop me. “Want me to come?”“No,” I said quickly, already stepping past him.From the corner of my eye, I saw him turning his attention to one of the designers seated nearby, sliding effortlessly into conversation. Typical Raiden—he could read me without even trying. He knew I needed space. And I appreciated him for that.But right now, all I could think about was Emily.She was here.Not just here but on the runway, front and center. Strutting down like she hadn’t vanished off the face of the earth after Daniel had kidnapped me. After Mason had nearly died. After everything.I pushed my way backstage.The buzz was overwhelming—stylists shouting, models laughing, and garment bags flying from one end to another. The air was thick with perfume, hairspray, and leftov