The organizer, out of respect for Ryan, didn't lash out, but his expression was grim as he shoved a nametag at Elena.
"The show is about to start. Get to the second-floor dressing room and change. Now."
"Sorry, I'll go right away."
Clutching the badge, Elena hurried toward the stairs. From a distance, she caught sight of a group of men in sharp suits turning the corner toward her. She quickly lowered her head and quickened her pace.
The quiet hallway echoed with the solid, rhythmic sound of leather shoes striking the floor. At the center of the group stood Lucian Sterling—commanding, magnetic, the man everyone revolved around.
He saw her.
Elena passed them, head bowed, dressed simply in a white T-shirt and denim shorts. As she walked, she lifted a stray strand of hair and tucked it behind her ear.
It was such a casual movement, yet it revealed the graceful curve of her neck—slender and elegant like a swan, accentuating the delicate line of her jaw.
She didn't look up, clearly oblivious to their presence. But nearly every man in the group noticed her.
"Mr. Sterling, this floor mainly features luxury handbags and cosmetics. This month's sales numbers—"
Meanwhile, Elena had already slipped into the dressing room, only to be greeted by a row of models in bikinis, their flawless skin glowing under the lights, dazzling her until she felt almost faint.
The models were fully dressed, makeup flawless, hair in place, waiting for their cue.
Elena took one look and finally understood—the so-called "lingerie show" was really a bikini show.
"Quick, quick, quick—go change!" The organizer, rushing in behind her, shoved her toward a closet. He pointed at a white bikini hanging in the display. "That one. Put it on."
Elena followed his finger and froze.
The bikini was exquisite, yes, but ridiculously revealing—little more than a few thin straps and scraps of fabric, barely enough to cover a hand.
Not only was it skimpy, the stark white was notoriously difficult to pull off. She glanced at a nearby blue set and, softening her voice, tried to negotiate.
"Could I… wear the blue one instead?"
"Wear what you're told to wear. Stop wasting my time." The organizer yanked the white bikini from the hanger and threw it at her. "Change. Now."
Then he clapped his hands sharply.
"Listen up, everyone! There are VIPs here today. You'd better perform perfectly. If anything goes wrong, don't expect a dime from me. Understood?"
"Yes!" the models chorused.
The runway had been set up on the first floor, decorated with elegance and luxury.
Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their golden glow suffusing the air with a hazy mix of opulence and intimacy.
As the opening notes of Last Tango in Paris played, the models stepped onto the curved runway, displaying one breathtaking swimsuit after another.
Elena walked in the middle of the lineup. Because of the rush, she hadn't had time for professional makeup—only the light cosmetics she'd applied earlier.
The thin fabric clinging to her body felt like nothing at all, and the oversized heels pinched her painfully with every step.
But years of professional discipline wouldn't let her falter. She had taken the money, and she would deliver.
Biting down her discomfort, Elena lifted her chin, plastered on a smile, and stepped onto the runway in her ten-centimeter heels.
Crowds gathered around the stage on the first floor, shoppers craning for a better view. From the upper levels, people leaned over the rails, drawn by the music and cheers.
"Lucas, I've confirmed—just now, that girl was recruited as a temporary model for the show."
The manager whispered in Lucas's ear.
Whistles echoed through the mall, the atmosphere growing feverish.
No wonder it was so lively. A fashion show was underway.
Lucas shot the manager a look.
Understanding at once, the manager hurried to Lucian's side. "Mr. Sterling, today our mall is holding a special 'Summer Cool' runway event. Would you be interested in watching—and perhaps sharing some thoughts?"
Lucian's icy gaze swept over him. He neither agreed nor refused.
Taking it as permission, the manager gestured politely. "This way, Mr. Sterling."
He led the group to the third-floor railing, overlooking the show below.
Lucian's eyes immediately locked on the figure in the white bikini, walking at the center of the lineup.
Following his gaze, the manager recognized her instantly—the very girl from earlier. His heart leapt.
So the big boss was interested in her.
At last, a way to curry favor. He was already plotting how to package the girl up and deliver her to Lucian.
"Mr. Sterling, since it's the hottest time of year, we arranged this bikini show—'Summer Cool'—to…"
The manager rattled on eagerly, oblivious to the storm darkening Lucian's face.
Lucas had realized the disaster the moment he saw the stage.
Damn it—why hadn't the idiot manager clarified what kind of show this was?
He had thought it was a regular fashion event, but this? A bikini show?
And worse, he had brought Lucian here on purpose. They were doomed. Completely doomed.
Wiping cold sweat from his forehead, Lucas whispered, "Mr. Sterling…"
Lucian didn't respond. His gaze stayed locked on the woman in white, his eyes growing darker, colder, until even the manager sensed something was wrong.
What was this?
Didn't the boss like that girl?
But he was still staring at her.
Or was it that the girl was too far away… and he couldn't see her well enough?
The manager ventured cautiously, "Mr. Sterling, it's a bit far from here… shall I take you downstairs for a closer look?"
But before Lucian could answer, a wave of whistles and rowdy banter rose up nearby.
Tilting his head, he saw a group of young heirs with women draped over their arms, catcalling toward the stage below. The women's hands were heavy with shopping bags from luxury brands—expensive rewards purchased to keep their boyfriends entertained.
These women knew their place. Even as the men ogled the models openly, eyes glazed with lust, none dared to protest. They only pouted and whined sweetly, "You're so bad…"
One heir couldn't hold back. Clicking his tongue, he drawled,
"Check out the one in red—her chest is insane. Not exaggerating, I could play with that for a whole year."
His friends burst out laughing.
"Yeah, a whole year—careful you don't end up with a handful of silicone!"
Another chimed in, "Fake boobs are whatever, but those legs in the black bikini? Now that's the real deal. Absolute perfection!"
"Are you blind?" scoffed the most authoritative of the group. "Clearly the best one is the chick in the white bikini. Open your eyes, will you?"
At once, all their gazes shifted toward her.
On the curved runway, the girl had just turned, walking back toward them.
A delicate oval face, exquisite features, wide eyes, a sharp little chin. Her eyes were amber, luminous under the lights. When she smiled, a dimple appeared in her left cheek, softening her expression into something achingly sweet.
Her long black hair was braided over her left shoulder, a simple flower crown resting on her head. The look was so understated, yet among a lineup of heavily made-up models, it made her stand out all the more.
Lower down, the flimsy scraps of white fabric barely concealed her most private parts, showcasing every flawless curve.
And there—just above her left breast—was a blue butterfly tattoo, vivid and lifelike, as though a real butterfly had alighted there to rest, its wings poised mid-flutter.
She radiated temptation.
"Holy shit, you were right. That girl's something else. Just one look at her back and you already knew she'd outshine the rest."
"Exactly! I've never seen anyone like her. She looks so sweet, like the perfect good-girl next door, but at the same time—every move she makes oozes seduction."
"Such conflicting auras, and she pulls them off in one body. Damn it, I wish I could be that butterfly on her chest, stuck there forever."
"Who the hell wouldn't?"
"Careful—since you've got your eye on her, maybe we should go downstairs and find out who she is for you…"
Every filthy word drifted straight to Lucian's ears.
His gaze locked on her figure in the white bikini, the straps loose, precariously close to slipping down. In his ears, those damn flies kept buzzing, laughing, taunting.
The air around him darkened, charged with a storm of fury.
Those standing near him froze, not daring to breathe too loud, utterly clueless as to why their boss was so angry.
Catching Lucas's urgent glance, the manager swallowed hard and tried again.
"M-Mr. Sterling, perhaps I could take you over to the administration offices—"
Before he could finish, Lucian turned on his heel, his aura glacial, voice slicing the air:
"Shut down the show downstairs. Immediately."
The entire entourage stared in stunned silence.
As they moved to follow, Lucas cut them off, calm but firm.
"No need. Just do as he said."
The manager broke into a cold sweat, fumbling nervously as he whispered, "Lucas, did we do something wrong? Did we somehow offend Mr. Sterling? But I followed your instructions exactly… why is he so angry?"
Lucas nearly snapped.
"You still have the nerve to ask? Why the hell didn't you tell me beforehand this was a bikini show?"
The manager stammered, "A bikini show is still… a fashion show, isn't it?"
Then realization dawned, and his face blanched.
"Wait—does Mr. Sterling think it's… indecent?"
Lucas inhaled deeply, forcing control.
"Our malls are the top in the country. We don't need cheap, tacky stunts to draw crowds. Understand?"
The director of planning muttered silently to himself. Tacky? The models are all top-notch. The crowd was eating it up. What's so cheap about that?
Still, the manager bowed repeatedly. "My apologies, Lucas. We didn't consider it carefully enough. Please, speak on our behalf to Mr. Sterling."
Head pounding, Lucas turned away to chase after Lucian.
On the first floor, the runway lights abruptly went dark.
The host scrambled onto the stage, voice shaking as he announced the lingerie show's end. Confused, the models were herded off.
Elena, though puzzled, finally exhaled in relief. The flimsy strap of her bikini had been threatening to slip off for the last ten minutes—how could she have lasted three whole hours?
Disappointed murmurs rippled through the crowd. Some drifted away, others flooded into the lingerie boutique, snapping up swimsuits. The white set in particular sold out instantly.
Meanwhile, the models made their way back toward the dressing room, whispering among themselves.
"What happened? It's only been ten minutes. Why'd they suddenly end it?"
"Who knows. Doesn't matter. The organizer said we'll still get paid."
"True enough. As long as the money's the same, whatever happened doesn't concern us. And hey, finishing early isn't so bad. Now we can—"
"Ahhh—!"
The leading model had just stepped into the dressing room when she let out a sharp scream.
The others rushed forward, alarmed.
"What's wrong? What is it?"
But the scream melted into a flustered giggle.
"There's… there's a man inside. A ridiculously handsome man…"
"What? Handsome?"
Her friends exchanged skeptical looks. They'd all met celebrities, idols, beautiful men of every kind. But to make one of their own gush super super handsome?
That was rare. Extremely rare.