Curt Shawn had solid connections to the Corsican Mafia, so the moment Brad told him about the runway show, he knew he held a real advantage.

If he could throw enough interference into Athaliah’s preparations, he figured he could force her into doing whatever he wanted.

Athaliah, however, nearly laughed right in his face.

Everything involved in the show had been funded straight out of her own pocket. She had planned every last detail herself, so how exactly did this man think he was going to ruin it?

“I’d like to see you try.”

Curt glared at her, his eyes filled with clear warning. “Don’t tell me I didn’t warn you.”

With that, he turned and walked out as though he’d never even been in the room.

Athaliah let out a long breath, relief washing over her the second the door closed behind him. She immediately called for her bodyguard and gave him a firm order in French.

“Don’t let anyone else in here.”

The bodyguard nodded, but it wasn’t long before Elodie rushed into the room, his expression grim.

“Liah, the modeling agencies have refunded our deposits. They’re saying they don’t want to work with us anymore,” he reported in French.

Athaliah already had a pretty good idea of who was behind it.

She didn’t know a whole lot about Curt, but the man had just threatened her right to her face. That made him the obvious suspect.

“It’s all right.”

Her expression stayed steady as she turned toward Elodie.

“Contact other agencies from across the globe. I don’t care if we have to spend extra money. Get me the best models you can find.”

Elodie nodded and hurried away to get started.

Athaliah reached for her phone, remembering that she needed to fill Corvine in on what was happening. She had barely pulled up his number when her stylist rushed into the room looking pale.

“Liah, the van carrying the clothes from the atelier was stopped by the Corsican Mafia. They said they were doing Mr. Shawn a favor.”

The news hit Athaliah harder than the first blow.

Those were her couture designs, pieces no one had seen yet and that hadn’t even been officially launched. Recreating them would take months of work.

Her heart sank, but she refused to let Curt manipulate her into folding.

“If they want the clothes, let them have them. I’ll go and bring out last year’s unlaunched collections.”

The stylist’s face went even paler. “Last year’s designs are incredible, but they were family capsule collections. That’s going to affect everything we planned for this show.”

Athaliah already knew that, but what other choice did she really have? Before she could answer, the stylist kept going. “It’ll affect the models too.”

Athaliah drew in several deep breaths, forcing herself to think past the disaster that was piling up all around her.

“Don’t worry about the models. Tell Elodie about the change in plans. He’ll know exactly what to do.”

With Curt using the mafia to interfere with her preparations, Liah was forced to handle most of the arrangements herself. She couldn’t risk giving anyone even a hint about what she was planning next.

That was how the day dragged into night, leaving her with barely enough time to snatch short naps between one crisis and another.

She was only awakened by Elodie’s voice cutting through the quiet. “The models from New York City are here.”

Liah immediately climbed out of bed and hurried toward the conference room where the models were waiting.

She glanced at the time as she walked. She hadn’t slept for even two full hours.

Still, she reassured herself that once everything finally fell into place, she could catch up on all the sleep she’d lost.

Then she saw the first person standing among the models, and warmth rushed straight through her chest.

“Sera, what are you doing here?”

Liah looked around in confusion. There were male models, female models, and even children, but neither Voren nor Corvine was anywhere in sight.

Her surprise quickly turned into excitement, and she hurried forward, wrapping her arms around the woman.

But the moment she breathed in, her body stiffened. The scent was wrong. Liah immediately pulled away.

The woman simply stared at her with open admiration, apparently unaware of why Liah had suddenly withdrawn.

“Miss Spencer, it’s an honor to collaborate with you. Meet my—”

The woman’s phone suddenly beeped. At that same moment, Athaliah remembered Corvine and quickly sent him a message.

’Corvine, sorry for not letting you know. Someone’s trying to sabotage me, and I’m this close to calling off the runway show. I’m just wondering how Sera got to Paris without Alpha Voren, and she’s acting like she’s never even seen me before.

His response came almost immediately. ’That’s not Sera.’

Athaliah’s heart dropped. Her phone began ringing before she could even fully process the message.

At the same time, Elodie spoke up in French. “She’s Coco—”

Coco’s voice cut him off. “I’m sorry, but we have to terminate the contract.”

Athaliah, who had been about to answer Corvine’s call, stood frozen in disbelief.

She stared at Coco, then at the models behind her, as everything she had worked so hard to salvage began falling apart all over again.

In the end, she could only reject Corvine’s call and send him a quick text. ’I’ll call you later.’

“Why the sudden change?” Athaliah demanded in English, knowing the models were from New York City.

Coco lowered her eyes. “I’m sorry. I can’t say, but we’ll book the next flight.”

Athaliah felt something inside her snap.

She could do nothing but watch as the models turned and walked away, their footsteps echoing through the conference room.

“What’s going on?” Elodie asked, his confusion clear in his voice.

Athaliah opened her mouth to answer, but before she could get a word out, a familiar voice rang across the room. “There you are, Liah.”

Her fingers curled into tight fists. Her bodyguard either disobeyed her, or this man had used force.

This time, she couldn’t play nice, couldn’t pretend to be polite or keep up the formal distance that was expected between them.

She turned toward the doorway, her eyes blazing with pure anger.

“Brad, who let you in?”