Chapter 13

Gie was trembling.

This wasn't her world.

She had spent years crafting jewelry for the elite, designing for the rich, for the powerful, for the untouchable, but she had never stepped into their world like this.

She was always behind the scenes. Always unseen.

But tonight?

Tonight, she was stepping into the light.

A Vision in Couture

She stood before the full-length mirror in her private suite, barely recognizing herself.

Laurent's dress was a masterpiece, sculpted to her body, a creation so seamless it felt like it had been poured onto her skin.

A deep, midnight blue, almost black under certain lights, the fabric was rich velvet, hugging her curves before flaring slightly at the bottom. A slit high enough to be scandalous, revealing the silken shimmer of her legs with every step.

The neckline was bold, asymmetrical—one bare shoulder, the other draped with intricate gold embroidery, vines and filigree curling over her skin like woven art.

She wore her own jewelry, of course.

A custom necklace—a single, deep sapphire hanging from a thin platinum chain, nestled just above her collarbone, subtle but stunning.

Her wrists bore gold cuffs, delicate but strong, and in her ears—she had taken a risk.

Black pearl drop earrings, dramatic but effortless, complementing the dress without overpowering it.

Her curls were styled just right, a soft, controlled wildness, and her makeup was flawless—smoky eyes, lips painted in deep wine red, a color that whispered luxury and danger.

She looked…

Expensive.

Like she belonged here, among the powerful, the beautiful, the untouchable.

And yet, inside, she was a mess of nerves.

The Walk Into the Spotlight

"You are literally trembling," Alina muttered beside her, adjusting the train of her dress.

Gie let out a shaky breath. "Because I don't know what I'm doing."

Alina smirked. "We practiced, Gie. You got this."

"But what if I trip?"

"Then you make it fashion."

Gie groaned.

Alina laughed, looping her arm through hers. "Relax. You look like a goddess. Nobody will even notice if you're nervous. They'll be too busy wondering who the hell you are."

Gie snorted at that. "Yeah, right."

"Um, yes," Alina said, dead serious. "You're an exclusive jewelry artist, barely anyone has seen you before, and you just walked into the most elite fashion event looking like sin wrapped in silk. Trust me, they're going to be looking."

Gie swallowed hard.

And then—it was time.

The moment they stepped onto the red carpet, a hundred camera flashes exploded in their direction.

She nearly froze.

The voices, the flashes, the endless calls of her name.

"Gie! Over here!"

"Gie, look this way!"

"Who are you wearing?"

"Your jewelry is stunning!"

Gie felt like she was dreaming.

Alina, ever the lifesaver, guided her through it, pausing for photos, angling them just right, making sure they posed properly before moving along the carpet.

By the time they reached their designated seats near the front of the runway, Gie was dizzy from the attention.

She exhaled slowly. "I think I just survived my first red carpet."

Alina smirked. "See? Told you you'd be fine."

Gie rolled her eyes, but deep inside, she was grateful.

She wouldn't have been able to do this alone.

The Show Begins

The lights dimmed.

The soft hum of conversation died down as the spotlight hit the runway.

Then—music swelled.

A deep, slow beat, pulsing through the air, setting the stage for something dark, luxurious, unforgettable.

And then—

The first model stepped onto the runway.

Gie sucked in a breath.

She had seen her pieces before—of course she had. She had spent months designing them, crafting them, refining them.

But this was different.

This was the first time she was seeing them move.

The first time she was seeing them come alive.

The sapphire collar necklace she had made—set against a high-necked black gown, the gemstones gleaming like captured stars, the delicate platinum filigree glowing under the lights.

The gold serpent cuff—wrapped around a model's arm, paired with a sheer, flowing gown, the emerald eyes flashing dangerously.

The cascading diamond ear cuffs—catching the light with every movement, framing the model's face like constellations.

The black pearl choker—draped against rich, velvety fabric, the pearls glistening like midnight secrets.

Every single piece looked like it belonged.

Like it was made for this world.

And for the first time, Gie truly saw her work in a way she never had before.

It was enchanting.

She didn't even realize how entranced she was until Alina nudged her.

"You look like you're about to float away right now," her sister teased.

Gie exhaled slowly. "It's just… surreal."

Alina smiled. "They look incredible."

"They do," Gie murmured.

And for the first time in a long time, she let herself feel it.

Pride.

Pride in her art.

Pride in herself.

For once, she wasn't just a jeweler hidden away in a studio.

She was here.

She was part of this world.

And she was meant to be.

The runway was a masterpiece.

It wasn't just a show; it was a spectacle.

Laurent had outdone himself—the music, the lighting, the way each model moved with precision, every garment a work of art, every piece of jewelry elevating the designs rather than overpowering them.

Gie watched it all, barely breathing, barely believing she was here.

She had designed these pieces in solitude, in the quiet hum of her studio, crafting them with nothing but her tools, her hands, and months of obsession.

And now, they were on a runway, shining under blazing lights, adorning some of the most exclusive fashion pieces in the world.

She was part of this.

Her art was part of this.

And it was stunning.

The Chaos of Success

As soon as the final model walked off the runway, chaos erupted.

Laurent was immediately swarmed.

Designers, fashion critics, media personalities, and high-profile collectors all rushed toward him, eager to discuss the vision, the creations, the bidding process for the exclusive garments and jewelry.

Gie just sat there, letting it all wash over her, trying to take in the sheer magnitude of this moment.

She had expected to feel overwhelmed.

Instead, she just felt…

Dizzy.

Like she had stepped into a dream, a world that felt too big, too bright, too different from the quiet life she had built for herself.

But before she could fully process it, Laurent suddenly appeared beside her.

And he wasn't alone.

Thrown Into the Spotlight

"Ma chérie!" Laurent practically sang, his face flushed with excitement. "You have been hiding too long!"

Gie blinked. "What?"

She followed his gaze and immediately felt her stomach drop.

Standing in front of her were four reporters, microphones and recording devices in hand, their eyes bright with curiosity.

"You didn't tell me you were bringing the media," she hissed under her breath.

Laurent just grinned, his expression completely unbothered.

"But of course!" He gestured dramatically. "They want to meet the genius behind the jewelry. You must be introduced properly!"

Gie was not prepared for this.

She had expected to blend into the background, to enjoy her art from the sidelines while Laurent took the spotlight.

But now, she was being pushed into it.

One of the reporters, a well-dressed woman with sleek hair and a sharp smile, leaned forward.

"Miss Gie, we had no idea you would be here tonight," she said. "Laurent has spoken so highly of you—it's rare for an artist as exclusive as you to step into the public eye."

Gie's mouth opened—then closed.

Laurent nudged her, grinning like the devil.

She cleared her throat. "I… I usually don't."

Another reporter, a tall man with thick glasses, smiled. "Well, we're honored. Your jewelry is—" he hesitated, searching for the right word. "—breathtaking."

Gie flushed, shifting slightly in her seat. "Thank you."

The woman pressed on. "We'd love to hear about your creative process. How do you approach designing such intricate and unique pieces?"

Gie hesitated again—but then something shifted.

The moment they asked about her art, the nerves started to fade.

Because this?

This, she could talk about.

She took a slow breath, then answered.

"Jewelry is about more than just aesthetics," she said, her voice steady. "It's about how a piece feels, how it interacts with the wearer, how it enhances a person rather than just sitting on them. Every stone has a story, every metal a purpose. It's about creating something that isn't just seen—but felt."

The reporters leaned in, hanging onto her words.

She continued, her voice growing stronger, more confident.

"I don't design with trends in mind. I design with the person in mind. Jewelry is the most intimate form of art—it's worn against the skin, it becomes part of someone's presence. It's a reflection of their identity, their power, their essence."

Her passion bled into her words, and for the first time tonight, she wasn't thinking about the flashing cameras, the overwhelming lights, or the high-profile figures surrounding her.

She was thinking about the art.

The reason she did this.

The reason she had built herself into the artist she was.

When she finally stopped speaking, there was a moment of silence—

And then, the interviewers exchanged glances, eyes wide.

"You're mesmerizing," the first woman finally said, almost in awe. "You don't just make jewelry—you breathe life into it."

Gie blinked.

Laurent beamed. "I told you!" he declared. "She is a vision!"

One of the other reporters, still looking at Gie like she was an enigma he needed to understand, asked, "And do you ever think about expanding your brand? Perhaps making your work more accessible?"

Gie shook her head.

"My work isn't meant to be mass-produced," she said simply. "It's meant to be… personal. It's not about exclusivity—it's about meaning."

The woman smiled. "That makes sense. And after tonight, I imagine even more people will be desperate to own one of your pieces."

Gie barely knew how to respond to that.

Laurent, however, was smug as hell.

"She is one of a kind," he said dramatically. "And now, the world will finally see it."

Gie wasn't sure how she felt about that.

But as the interview wrapped up, as Laurent whisked the reporters away to answer more questions, she sat there, hands clasped in her lap, trying to process everything.

She had come here expecting to be a spectator.

Instead, she had just cemented herself as an artist the world would remember.

And no matter how much she tried to deny it—

It felt damn good.