The design floor at StoneTech buzzed with frantic energy. Assistants dashed between desks, fabric samples littered every surface, and printers whined as if protesting the heavy load of presentations being churned out.
Chloe stood at the long glass table, her sketches neatly pinned to a board. She adjusted the edges one last ti, though her hands weren’t as steady as she wished.
She had spent most of the weekend refining these pieces — she’d even skipped Sunday brunch with Bella, Rachel and Timothy just to make sure things were perfect.
She was determined not to let her rival shake her. But as soon as Damian Cross walked in, she knew the morning wouldn’t go easy.
He didn’t make an entrance; he simply was an entrance. All sharp lines, immaculate suit, black sketchbook tucked under his arm. His presence shifted the air the way a storm rolls into a clear sky. Conversations dimd as eyes followed him, though he didn’t acknowledge anyone. He didn’t have to.
Chloe stiffened. After Saturday’s supermarket run-in, she had pretended not to know him, not to even recognize him, because she’d been too annoyed at the thought of him behaving like a civil person outside while like an enemy in the company. He hadn’t called her out on it that day, but she could feel that flicker of tension now, like unfinished business.
Perhaps, he was going to pay her back now. She thought and exhaled, telling herself she wouldn’t let him this ti.
Ms. Laurent clapped her hands. "Let’s begin. Chloe, you’ll present your spring revisions. Damian, we’ll move to your luxury adjustnts after."
Chloe inhaled deeply and began. Her voice steadied as she pointed to the sketches, explaining how her designs were rooted in daily life — graffiti textures on fabric, silhouettes inspired by the natural slump of a jacket draped over a chair, color palettes pulled from city cafes and corner shops. "Fashion should be about being seen," she concluded, passion softening her tone. "About giving people back a piece of themselves in what they wear."
A couple of junior designers smiled. Soone even murmured, "That’s beautiful."
And then ca the voice she dreaded—the one she knew she’d hear but had wished he wouldn’t speak.
"Still sentintal," Damian said smoothly, flipping through her boards without looking at her.
Chloe’s jaw clenched. "Excuse ?"
She knew it.
"Too much emotion. Not enough market research." He tapped one sketch with his long fingers. "This pattern, for example. It looks lovely, yes. But no buyer will order a hundred units of sothing that screams street corner rather than runway." His eyes flicked up to hers, cool and sharp. "Fashion is about aspiration. Not bus stops."
The words hit harder than she wanted to admit. How could he say that about her designs?
Heat rose to her face, but Chloe forced her chin higher. "Fashion is about people, Mr. Cross. Not just numbers. If you design only for aspiration, you’re not designing for the won and n who actually live in these clothes."
The air crackled. The interns exchanged wide-eyed glances.
Damian tilted his head, lips curving in sothing dangerously close to a smile. "And that’s why your work remains... well, ordinary," he said with a shrug.
The word was like flint to fire. Chloe’s heart pounded in her chest. "Ordinary is real," she snapped. "And maybe real is what people want, not another soulless gown that looks like it was made for a mannequin instead of a human being."
A few designers stifled laughs, quickly turning them into coughs when Damian’s eyes swept over them.
Ms. Laurent groaned softly and rubbed her temples. "Enough. Both of you. We’ll revisit these designs later. Move on."
The eting wrapped up with awkward shuffling and quiet whispers. Chloe gathered her sketches quickly, refusing to et Damian’s gaze. But she felt it anyway — his attention lingering, not mocking, but sothing else. Sothing sharper.
And it unsettled her more than his criticism. What does he even want? What does he know about ordinary people like her and how they choose clothes?
He wouldn’t know that because he wears dresses just for aspirations.
Once she reached her desk, she took out her phone and imdiately texted Bella. There was no way she could save this anger till lunch break.
[That infuriating Damian Cross.] She texted and then hissed.
Upstairs on the executive floor, Bella had just finished canceling the etings for the rest of the day as Jake had asked her when her phone buzzed. She checked it quickly, lips twitching when she saw Chloe’s ssage.
[Damian again? What did he do now?] She texted back.
She hasn’t even dropped her phone when the reply.
[Sa thing he always does. Tore into my designs like he’s StoneTech’s personal god. Called them "ordinary." Ordinary! Now I wish I had did more than just ignore him on Saturday!]
Bella’s brows rose. She could almost picture her friend pacing in the design studio, hands flailing as she typed.
[What’s with him though? I think he’s just looking to get a rise from you. Ignore him, please.]
[How is that even possible? I work with him. Every. Single. Day. He is always going to have sothing to say to !]
Bella chuckled under her breath, careful not to draw Jake’s attention from his office.
[Then how about you prove to him he’s wrong about whatever he’s said to you?]
There was a long pause before Chloe’s reply ca through this ti.
[Oh, I will. Just wait.]
Bella slipped her phone back into her pocket, shaking her head. Chloe would never admit it, but beneath all her frustration was sothing else. It wasn’t all about Damian annoying her.
Her thoughts broke when Jake’s deep voice called from his office. "Bella."
She straightened, smoothing her skirt before stepping inside. He was behind his desk, tie loosened just slightly, flipping through his schedule with his usual briskness.
"Get ready for the next eting," he said without looking up.
Bella nodded. "Okay, sir," she replied before leaving.
As she gathered her things, her thoughts drifted to her child and she couldn’t help but smile.
She’d use his thoughts to clear her muddled head in the office and not worry too much about Jake or Raymond. She’d talk more about Damian with Chloe when they got ho.
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