Reclaimed By My Ex-husband
Chapter 91: The fashion show (Part-1)

Chapter 91: The fashion show (Part-1)

The green room buzzed with anticipation and energy. Models moved between makeup chairs and racks of garments. Stylists scurried around, adjusting hemlines, fixing stray curls, and touching up lips.

In the middle of all the chaos stood Zara, with awe in her wide eyes as she watched the models carrying her dresses so gracefully.

Her creations came to life. Flowing hems, daring cuts, bold embroidery, and sleek modern lines – those dresses looked amazing on the models’ perfect figures. Each design she had agonized over, reworked, and stitched with hope was now ready to meet the world.

After five long years away from the runway, this was her moment. Her heart raced with excitement and nerves. She felt the weight of expectation press into her chest, both thrilling and terrifying.

"I can’t believe this," she whispered. "It’s really happening."

Bree wrapped an arm around her shoulders with a reassuring smile as she surveyed the models with confident eyes. "Believe it. This evening, everyone is going to appreciate your designs. Look at them—they look stunning."

Zara turned to her, nervous energy coursing through her. "What if something goes wrong?"

"Think positively," Bree said. "Nothing will happen. Everything is going on so smoothly. What can go wrong?"

A radiant smile danced across her lips. "People are going to notice your work and your talent—just believe in yourself. I’m confident these designs will draw Nicole’s attention. She is a visionary. Even if we don’t win a trophy, she’ll see the value in what you have created."

Zara let out a shaky breath, hoping whatever Bree had said would come true. She allowed herself to believe that this time, everything was about to change.

The green room’s chatter dimmed for a moment when Riya walked in like she owned the place.

Tall, arrogant, and dripping with effortless glamour, she moved through the space with confidence. Her sleek hair flowed behind her, and a pair of oversized sunglasses hid her eyes.

Stylists paused mid-motion. Conversations halted. Heads turned. There was something about Riya that commanded attention.

A couple of eager makeup artists immediately approached her, kits in hand.

"Miss Riya, if you could just sit here—"

But before they could get closer, her manager, a sharp-eyed woman in a crisp suit, stepped forward and stopped them. "She only uses her personal makeup artist," she said curtly.

Her makeup artist arrived seconds later, wheeling in a custom kit.

The stylists stepped back awkwardly, exchanging glances. The green room resumed its usual buzz, but an undercurrent of tension now lingered in the air.

From the other side of the room, Zara watched quietly, lips pressed into a tight line.

Bree leaned in with a whisper, "She is arrogant. I’ve seen many famous models, but none is as haughty as her.

"Let her be loud," Zara said flippantly. "Don’t pay attention to her. Let’s focus on our job."

Zara focused on her work, her hands moving quickly as she adjusted a model’s sleeve, giving precise instructions to the stylist beside her. "Pin the drape tighter at the waist. It needs to flow but still hold shape when she turns."

Her nerves were still buzzing, but keeping busy helped drown out the noise around her, including Riya she was intentionally ignoring.

Riya finally pulled off her sunglasses and gave the room a slow, sweeping glance. Her expression was cool, indifferent. "Where is my seat?"

A woman stepped forward and motioned toward a corner section. "Right this way, please. Mr. Walsh has made all the arrangements for you there."

Shay Walsh, one of the city’s most renowned designers, had chosen Riya to showcase his signature creation as the showstopper for the evening.

Riya held her head high with an air of arrogance as she strode toward the spot the woman had indicated. But her steps faltered the moment her eyes landed on Zara. Unlike everyone else, Zara didn’t spare her a glance.

Her perfectly lined lips curled slightly in contempt. ’Pretending not to see me? The nerve.’

She was the main attraction tonight, and Zara, of all people, couldn’t even offer her a courtesy smile?

Riya’s jaw tightened in irritation. Still, keeping her poise intact, she walked toward her.

"Zara, you have arrived," she said, twitching her lips into a smirk.

Heads turned. Curious glances flew toward them. Whispers began to ripple through the room as people speculated about the connection between Riya and the newcomer designer, Zara. But no one in the room knew Zara had won the same competition five years ago.

"Congratulations on your comeback show," Riya said, her smile intact on her face.

Zara looked up, smiling slightly. "Thank you, Riya."

The models and stylists nearby quieted down, clearly intrigued.

Riya took another step closer to Zara. "I must say, it’s impressive. After all these years, you have made quite a bold return." She crossed her arms across her breastbone. "It’s lovely to see you trying again."

Zara kept her expression calm, though she could sense the sarcasm hidden in those words.

Riya turned toward the small crowd that had been looking at them curiously. "Oh—by the way," she said lightly, brushing her fingers over her hair. "Zara is my sister-in-law."

Murmurs rippled through the room yet again. Eyes flicked between them with renewed curiosity.

Riya turned back to Zara, her voice dipping into condescension masked as kindness. "You have really done well. I mean, your designs are quite cute, actually. Though I have to say, nothing quite compares to Shay Walsh’s designs. I’ll be wearing one of his creations. You know, his designs are always timeless."

Zara stiffened slightly at the certainty in her voice. She knew she couldn’t compete with the famous designers tonight. But this event was still important to her.

"Let’s be honest," Riya added, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "The moment I walk the ramp in that dress, the show is decided. No competition."

She leaned in with a whisper just loud enough for a few to hear. "Don’t keep your hopes too high, hmm? You don’t stand a chance in front of Shay Walsh."

Zara’s smile tightened, her fingers curling slightly around the clipboard in her hand. She wanted to snap back, but she forced herself to stay composed.

"I appreciate your concern," she said. "But the show is yet to start, and you don’t even know what the judges will choose."

She turned away to fix a model’s hem, clearly done with the conversation.

A flicker of malice danced in Riya’s eyes. ’So confident,’ she muttered inwardly. ’Let me see how long you can hold this confidence.’