Fashioned For Sin

Chapter 15

The alarm rang sharply at 6 a.m., jolting me awake from the remnants of a dream I couldn't quite remember. Sunday felt like a distant memory, but the afterglow of that night with Leonardo still lingered, even as the week had pulled us both back into the relentless pace of work.

He had to leave for some business meetings in Los Angeles, literally across the US, definitely still thinking about him all the time, we talk and text and facetime every night.

Monday, we had practice day, and my models came in to try on the dresses and walk with them on the runway, only a week more till the gala.

Fortunately, I finished my entire collection. The final practice day will be next week a day before the gala.

Yesterday, I was all day at Leonardo's office, his workers were definitely happy how I managed marketing meetings, and I got them a few clients with my persuasive personality.

Leaving all that aside, I have to get ready for work.

After a quick shower, I dressed in my usual work attire: a tailored black blazer over a white blouse, dark jeans, and leather boots.

I made my way to the kitchen, brewing a strong cup of coffee to kickstart the day. The rich aroma filled the kitchen, a small comfort amidst the whirlwind of the fashion studio.

At the studio, the atmosphere was electric with activity. We were finalizing our spring dress collection, which merged spring's lightness with a darker edge.

My team and I worked tirelessly, adjusting hems, discussing fabric choices, and ensuring each piece captured the balance we sought. I was deeply engrossed in my tasks when my phone buzzed with a new message.

The notification was from an unknown number. My curiosity outweighed my hesitation, and I opened the message. A video file began to play, and my heart sank as I watched Leonardo at a club in LA. The footage showed him fucking another woman.

What the hell?!

The video captured every intimate detail—his voice, the sounds, the way he talked dirty to her. It was as if my entire world tilted on its axis. Despite the fact that we weren’t officially together, seeing him like this was a punch to the gut.

I tried to shake off the anger as I returned to work, but the sting of betrayal lingered.

Is it weird that it feels like a betrayal? Maybe I'm just delusional.

The rest of the day blurred into a hectic cycle of fittings and adjustments, each task punctuated by thoughts of Leonardo and the video.

Around 5 p.m., I took a break, nursing another cup of coffee as I tried to collect myself. That’s when Karissa called.“Hey, Blair, are you ready for tonight? We’re meeting at the club at nine. Come on, let’s get you out of that funk,” she urged, her voice bubbly and inviting.

I agreed, though my mood was still heavy.

By 7 p.m., I was back home, rummaging through my closet for something that would help me forget the day’s pain.

I opted for a silk, black dress that hugged my curves, paired with clean makeup and soft curls that framed my face. I wanted to look confident.

When I arrived at the club, Karissa and the boys—Max, Matthias, and Julian—were already at the entrance, waiting.

They greeted me with exaggerated enthusiasm, helping me forget my earlier worries. We ordered drinks, the clinking of glasses punctuating our sarcastic banter. The mood was light, filled with laughter and teasing.

The club was alive with pulsating music and colorful lights. We danced and joked, the night taking on a carefree energy.

Amidst the chaos, a striking stranger approached me. He was tall, with tattoos covering his arms, dark brown hair, and intense blue eyes, he looked like he was in hid mid 30's.“Dance with me?” he asked, his voice low and inviting.I accepted, eager for a distraction from my thoughts.

The noise faded slightly as we moved, and I realized he was leading me to a more secluded area. Somewhere quieter, more private. I didn’t question it, though—everything felt like a dream, and I was just floating through it.I thought we were going to dance. But instead, he pulled out a drink from a nearby table, offering it to me with a smile that made my heart skip a beat.

“Here,” he said, “something special for you.”I took the glass without thinking. His eyes watched me intently, waiting for me to drink, so I did. It was strong, the alcohol burning as it went down, but I didn't mind. I liked the way he looked at me as I drank, like I was the only person in the world.

“What’s your name?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.“Carlo,” he replied, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watched me. “But my friends call me Blade.”

I giggled, thinking it was some sort of joke. “Blade, huh? That’s a bit dramatic, isn’t it?”He smirked, leaning in closer. “You could say I’m a dramatic kind of guy.”

"What does that mean anyway, Blade?" I asked, taking another sip of the strong drink. "It's a nickname from my past, let's just say I'm good with sharp things."

I tried to laugh, but it came out more like a breathy giggle. “That’s kind of scary,” I admitted, but I wasn’t really afraid.The alcohol had numbed that part of me, making everything seem like it wasn’t quite real.

He leaned in a little closer, his breath warm against my cheek. “Maybe a little. But you don’t seem like the kind of girl who’s easily scared.”

I shook my head, or at least I thought I did. The room was spinning so fast it was hard to tell. “I’m not,” I said, trying to sound confident.

My head felt heavy all of a sudden, the room spinning faster than before. I tried to focus on his face, but it was getting harder, everything blurring at the edges.

“I’m Blair,” I mumbled, the words slurring together.

“Blair,” he repeated, like he was testing the name. His voice seemed to echo in my head, distant and strange. “Pretty name for a pretty girl.”

I tried to smile, but my lips felt numb. The glass slipped from my hand, clattering to the ground as the room started to tilt. I blinked, trying to stay awake, but my eyelids were so heavy.

"Blade... what did you...?" The words died in my throat, and I saw him smile—an almost satisfied smile—as he moved closer."Shh," he whispered, his voice the last thing I heard before everything went black.

My legs gave out, and the world faded to nothing, his face the only thing I could see as my eyes fluttered shut.The last thing I remember was the sensation of being lifted, cradled in his arms as he carried me away, his face blurring into darkness. Then, nothing. Just blackness.