Freya's POV
After weeks of relentless preparation, the fashion show had finally arrived.
From dawn until dusk, I found myself racing between backstage chaos and runway preparations, barely finding a moment to catch my breath. My collection was organized into distinct lines that showcased my range as a designer. The signature Pleated Apron Skirt series celebrated cultural heritage, while the Bridal collection embodied romantic elegance, and the Professional line emphasized modern sophistication.
During a brief intermission between segments, I was making final adjustments to a model's ensemble when Belinda appeared at my elbow, her voice dropping to an urgent whisper.
"Ms. Freya, several staff members spotted President Tristan in the VIP section. He's been watching the entire show."
My hands stilled on the fabric I was adjusting. Without turning around, I asked with carefully controlled calm, "Which President Tristan are we talking about?"
