Chapter 1
I can hear the music pulsing through the venue, the heavy bass reverberating in my chest. The lights overhead flash in dazzling arrays, illuminating the long, glittering runway ahead of me. The energy backstage is electric-models rushing to final fittings, stylists adjusting last-minute details, and makeup artists giving final touch-ups.
This moment. I missed it.
I take a deep breath, allowing the familiar buzz of excitement to flood through my veins. It's been months since I last stepped onto a runway, two months before my wedding to be exact. I had taken a break, wanting to enjoy the most important day of my life without the added pressure of constant photoshoots and training. But now I'm back. Back where I belong.
"Girl, you are glowing," Natasha gushes beside me, looping her arm through mine as we stand near the entrance to the runway. "Marriage looks good on you."
I smirk, playfully nudging her. "More like stress-free mornings and an unlimited skincare budget."
She laughs, shaking her head. "Or the fact that you married one of the richest men in LA and had the most aesthetic-worthy wedding ever. I mean, Corine, it was straight out of a dream. The dress, the venue, the custom-designed everything... how does it feel to be a real-life princess?"
I shake my head in disbelief. "Sometimes, I still can't believe it. A girl from North Carolina, raised by a simple carpenter and a housemaid, now married into one of the wealthiest families in the country. It feels surreal."
And it does. Growing up, I never imagined myself here. My life was modest at best. Two older siblings, one stepbrother, and parents who worked tirelessly to give us a comfortable home. I attended high school and later a community college, but deep down, I always knew I wanted more. So, I packed my bags and moved to LA, chasing a dream that seemed impossible.
It wasn't easy. Sleepless nights, grueling workouts, sacrificing meals to stay in shape, countless rejections, and the constant fear that I wouldn't make it. But I did.
And now, here I am. A Victoria's Secret Angel, the face of my own beauty and clothing line, and a major influencer with millions watching my every move.
"Okay, ladies! Five minutes!" one of the show coordinators calls out.
Natasha hugs me quickly. "Kill it out there."
I give her a confident grin. "Always."
Taking my position, I roll my shoulders back and inhale deeply. The silky fabric of my outfit clings to my skin, the towering heels adding to my already tall frame. The moment the music shifts, I step out, the crowd erupting into cheers as I glide down the runway with practiced precision.
And then I see him.
Allen.
Sitting in the front row, looking like he stepped straight out of a magazine cover. His sharp suit hugs his broad shoulders, his blonde hair styled perfectly, and those deep blue eyes locked onto me with nothing but pride.
A smile tugs at my lips as I reach the end of the runway. I blow him a playful kiss and wink, laughing softly as he grins and claps, his adoration evident.
I turn, making my way back, my confidence soaring. I feel unstoppable.
Post-Show Celebration
The after-party is held at one of the most exclusive rooftop lounges in LA. The city glitters beneath us, the air buzzing with conversation, music, and endless glasses of champagne being passed around.
Allen has his arm securely around my waist, pulling me close as he whispers, "You were breathtaking out there."
I lean into him, warmth spreading through my chest. "I felt incredible."
Natasha joins us, handing me a glass of champagne. "To the queen of the runway!" she toasts, and everyone around cheers.
I laugh, clinking glasses with her before taking a sip.
The night is perfect. We mingle, dance, and enjoy the celebration, but as the hours pass, exhaustion starts to set in. I rest my head on Allen's shoulder, murmuring, "I think I'm ready to go home."
He presses a soft kiss to my forehead. "Let's go."
As we drive home in his sleek black car, I gaze out at the city that made me who I am today. Allen's hand rests on my thigh, a silent but comforting touch.
"Proud of yourself?" he asks.
I glance at him, a smile playing on my lips. "Yeah. I really am."
He squeezes my leg gently. "Good. Because I'm proud of you too."
As we pull up to our mansion, I step out, removing my heels with a sigh of relief. Allen chuckles, scooping me up in his arms. "Come on, supermodel, let's get you to bed."
I giggle, wrapping my arms around his neck as he carries me inside.
Life is perfect.
Or at least, that's what I believe... for now.
