Chapter 1
You know when there’s a life-or-death crisis that causes everyone to panic and scurry around like terrified chickens in an attempt to preserve their lives, or rather their dignity? That’s how the entire night appeared to go, and it hadn’t even begun. The fashion business in London had a lot of chances, and it was an industry where you could come out as a winner, but most ended up chewed and spat out on the rainy streets of London, crawling in a final attempt to salvage their pride, if they had any left.
In this society of vipers and piranhas, I was just a stylist, a world of predators willing to feast on anybody for that dazzling renown. In the small fashion firm where I started working after three years of learning and honing beauty methods and talents, I was recognized for doing the models’ hair and make-up. In this world of predators with stunning looks, I was a chameleon who liked to remain in the shadows backstage, allowing the confident ladies to rule the runway.
My job for the little fashion firm was more than rewarding, and we were like a family. The leader of this fashion squad was unlike any other wicked designer in the world. He was a lovely man with a passion for fashion equal to his wife’s. Allen was a little older than me, but he had big dreams in this society of killers with a peacock attitude.
Some claimed he was too sweet to succeed as a designer, but he was always upbeat and urged us, his staff, and his second family, to keep our heads up and grin. He was a bright spot in the day.
He was more of a nervous wreck right now, which was natural given that tonight’s mission would be the ultimate judge of his career, as well as my and his people’s. Allen gathered sponsors and backing to put on a fashion show, the first and last if things went south.
The person who would be the final judge of this performance was the source of everyone’s anxiety and agitation. I remember the day Allen got the response. He was practically in a joyful dance as he read the name of the person who would decide the fate of this small fashion firm.
That day, Allen was as pale as a ghost, and the letter flew from his trembling hands, almost as if he had seen a ghost, or perhaps the devil.
And speaking of the Devil, he is the one who will decide the fate of the world tonight.
Cruello De Vil.
A fashion designer and entrepreneur, a man with so much power in London, not to mention the flawlessly polished shoes that cost more than the homes I and my coworkers owned. No one in the fashion world didn’t know about the devil in fur. Everyone wished they could work for him. Men yearned to stroll in his pricey shoes, while ladies desired to be splayed on his immaculate fur coats.
“This night is crucial... I think I am going to faint.” As I styled one of the models’ hair in a flawless bun with diamonds embellishing her black as night hair, she remarked with apprehension in her voice.
“You will do amazing, Penelope. You are one of the best models on Allen’s team.” I assured her with a sweet voice, working my magic with the comb and hairspray.
Penelope smiled, trying to control her raging heart and breath, fiddling with the golden bracelets around her wrists.
“You’re too nice for this industry... but speaking of fashion... Why aren’t you trying out the designs you hide from everyone?” My demeanor instantly changed, the content smile faltered, and an air of uneasiness began to crack me.
Yes, I was a hairstylist and make-up artist, but behind these passions, I had one more up my sleeve, that I preferred to keep out of the public eyes. Penelope was the only one who knew, all by accident, when she had spotted my secret book with tons of clothing and accessory designs. The child inside me was harboring one day to become a prestigious fashion designer, but it was only a dream, especially seeing how rookie designers were chopped to pieces by the high wolves of this industry.
Not many make it far. Allen managed to get to this point, but everything could end up tonight if the devil so saw fit.
“You know I am not ready for that... for the spotlight,” I murmured under my breath, finishing the last touches of her hair.
“Dear. You know you are my best friend in this industry, and deep inside you are an almighty beautiful eagle. You have to display your feathers one day and stop being shy.” Her support was always welcomed, and she was one to trust. She kept her mouth shut, even from Allen, knowing that it wasn’t in her power to decide my fate.
One day maybe I will manage to spread my beautiful wings.
Two more hours were spent doing hair and make-up, while Allen was trying to organize everything, and I could basically imagine his dark brown hair growing gray streaks from all the stress that was pouring over his head like a heavy rain fall. I on the other hand was as calm as ever, adding the last touches of blush and lipstick to the female models who looked like they were heading up to their execution.
“Mr. Allen! He is here.” Allen’s personal assistant entered backstage from behind the velvet red curtain. He was a young man, the youngest of the team, but very hard working and had the speed of a cheetah when it came to doing errands and following a schedule religiously.
We were all a small team, but quality over quantity.
The moment announced that the devil was here, everyone tensed and there was a cold air of tension around backstage. I watched as Allen tried to control his breathing, checking to see the models that were gonna display his creations, making sure that not a single feather, button, or sparkle was out of place.
While Allen was busy inspecting everything before the big show started, my curiosity couldn’t help but make me take a peek around the corner of the scarlet curtain, trying to take a glimpse of what was happening in the front.
The platform which the models will walk down to display Allen’s collection, was of a pristine white, with neons surrounding the edge, and in front were lined up the many black plush seats that important people already started to occupy. One seat, in particular, caught my attention. It was right in front of the podium, and the cushions were a ruby red. I didn’t have to be Sherlock Holmes to know who will occupy this seat. It was as obvious as a zebra among horses.
Among the waves of important people dressed in flashy clothes, one stood among them, much like a wolf among a herd of sheep. His saddle Oxford shoes were shining in the bright lights that illuminated the fashion gala that was about to start at any moment. The shoes were freshly polished, and as my eyes observed more, I took a glimpse of stark red socks. Going up higher, my eyes took in long legs, clad in black slacks that were tailored to immaculate perfection. Next was the gleaming black leather belt with diamond studs that gave away a combination of brutish, classy, and wealthy.
The man’s lean torso was hugged tightly by a fashionable vest in two colors, one side black, the other white. Underneath the vest, he sported a black as night button-up with a red tie that reminded me of fresh blood. His hands were covered by red silk gloves, and around his wrists, he had leather bracelets with diamond studs. The color of the leather bracelets? red, of course!
Around his tall and lean frame, was draped a fur coat, white with black spots. The inside of the highly expensive coat was red and a stark contrast to the outside, making it stand out without even the slightest effort.
The moment my gaze moved up higher, I could feel my breath hitch and my grip on the red curtain tightened.
He was devilish handsome!
His features were masculine, but with a certain delicate elegance if that made sense. It wasn’t that type of gruff and rough masculinity. Shall I say... refinement? His skin was of pristine alabaster, with pink lips that were pulled in a snarl, directed towards one of the older men he was speaking to. A sharp nose, and high cheekbones, and when my gaze landed on his eyes, I felt like the devil dragged his claws down my spine. They were as sharp as knives, and such an intense arctic blue that could make anyone cry if he looked with venom in his irises.
I noticed diamond earring studs, one on each of his ears, but what was the standout of this man was his hair. Even from here it looked so soft, styled to perfection; one part of his hair, a jet black shade that would make the ravens envious, and the other part, a pure white just like the first snow of the winter.
Between silk-clad fingers, he held a red cigarette stick, smoke coming out from between his lips, aimed towards the older man who scrunched up his nose at the scent of tobacco, turning away from the eccentric-looking man.
By this captivating man’s side was a splendid dalmatian, tall and athletic with his luscious fur; pure white with ink black spots. His ears were both black and around the dog’s neck was a red leather collar with diamond studs, matching his owner. The dog, much like his owner held a certain alpha air that simply said: ‘Don’t mess with me or I will rip your throat out.’
My palms got sweaty, and my heart felt like it was going to speed up faster, the more I took in this peacock of a man.
There was no doubt who he was. I knew who he was, and the greatest fear began to build in the pit of my stomach; a warning.
He was the De Vil.
If only I knew back then that he will be the death of me... a very scorching, passionate, corrupted death.
