Selina woke before sunrise, her apartment quiet except for the hum of the city below. Her sketches were spread across the floor, each one a fragment of her heart, each stitch a promise she had made to herself: I will not fail.
Claudine's words from the previous day echoed in her mind: "Paris can be unforgiving to newcomers." She knew it was true. One misstep here, and years of hard work could vanish in an instant.
By mid-morning, Selina arrived at L'Atelier Boutique, her dresses carefully packed, each one more daring than the last. Claudine was already there, walking through the boutique with her usual sharp-eyed scrutiny.
"Selina," Claudine said without looking up, "I want a complete showcase today. But this time… I want something that will make me remember your name."
Selina's chest tightened. She nodded and began to unpack the first dress. The silk shimmered under the boutique lights, the colors bold yet elegant. Claudine circled her, inspecting every stitch, every fold of fabric. Selina could feel her eyes burning, as if she were being judged by an invisible jury.
Hours passed in a tense blur of demonstration and critique. Claudine asked questions, paused to examine patterns, then moved on. Selina tried to focus, but her mind kept drifting to Cole—the smirk, the casual confidence, the way he seemed to see her in a way no one else did.
The boutique door opened, and she froze.
Cole.
He walked in effortlessly, every movement controlled, like he owned the room without trying. His gaze swept over the dresses before settling on her.
"You're really here," he said softly, almost teasing. "Do you always face the storm alone?"
Selina swallowed, trying to steady her pulse. "I don't need anyone to face it for me," she replied, her voice firmer than she felt.
Cole's smile was easy, but his eyes held a question she didn't want to answer. "Careful," he said, almost whispering. "Paris has a way of taking what it wants."
Before she could respond, Claudine cleared her throat. "Focus, Selina. This is your chance. Impress me—or risk being forgotten."
Selina's hands shook slightly as she lifted the next dress. It was daring, unlike anything she had shown before. The fabric flowed like water, cut to highlight elegance and strength simultaneously. Claudine leaned in closer, her expression unreadable.
"You have potential," she said slowly. "But talent alone is not enough. Paris tests everything—creativity, resilience, even courage."
Selina nodded. Her mind raced. She thought of Daniel's message from last night: "Trust yourself. I know what you've created is yours. Don't let anyone shake you." His words gave her strength, but they also reminded her of the distance, the sacrifices she had made to be here.
Cole stepped closer, eyes scanning the boutique before resting on her again. "You've grown since I last saw you," he said, voice low. "But this city… it will challenge you in ways you can't predict."
Selina forced a smile. "Then I'll rise to meet it."
Hours turned into an exhausting haze. Each dress presented, each critique endured, each doubt fought. Finally, she reached for the last dress—a bold statement of everything she was, everything she dreamed of becoming.
Claudine examined it slowly, her eyes widening slightly. "This… is remarkable," she whispered. "But tell me, where did you get this idea?"
Selina froze. She hadn't borrowed it from anyone. Every detail, every stitch, was hers. But doubt crept in. Could someone else claim it before she did? Could one careless glance undo years of work?
Her phone buzzed. Daniel's message: "Believe in yourself. Always." She pressed it close, letting it steady her racing heart.
Cole leaned casually against the boutique wall, his gaze fixed on her. That familiar smirk played on his lips, but it didn't reach his eyes. Something was unreadable there—something that made her pulse quicken and her doubts grow.
Then, a shadow passed across the boutique window. Someone else was watching. Someone silent, deliberate. Someone who could change everything.
Selina's chest tightened. She clenched her fists and lifted her chin. "I didn't come this far to fail. I'll prove it. No matter what."
But even as she said it, she knew Paris had only just begun to test her—and the real challenge was yet to come.
[To be continued…