Tristan’s POV
The sun had barely risen when I left the house, the sky still steeped in shades of bruised violet and fading charcoal. Elona was resting at the hospital under David’s watchful eye, and Cris had made it clear she wouldn’t sleep until she had the dirt she needed to burn Velvet Fashion Studio to the ground. I let her go do her digging at SNT while I did what I knew best...confronting the beast head-on.
The drive to VFS felt longer than usual, or maybe it was just the thrum of anger in my chest, making everything around me seem slower, duller, and inconsequential. My hands tightened around the steering wheel as I replayed the image of Elona lying unconscious in my arms, pale and bruised. That wasn’t just exhaustion. That was a body pushed too far. And someone needed to be held accountable.
The moment I stepped through the glass doors of VFS, I ignored the pristine interiors, the framed magazine covers, and the soft ambient music that tried to create an illusion of elegance. It was a facade, a damn pretty one for the rot that festered underneath.
The receptionist behind the marble desk blinked at me, startled by the abruptness of my arrival. “I need to speak to the person in charge,” I said, my voice sharper than I intended. “Now.”
She hesitated, her hand halfway toward the phone. “Madame Delance is in the main studio right now-” Before she could finish, I was already heading down the hallway. My footsteps echoed across the tiled floor with fury pulsing in every step.
As I neared the studio, the sound of heels clicking on hardwood reached my ears. The rhythmic tap-tap was interrupted by the sharp, authoritative snap of a stick striking the floor. When I entered, the sight made my blood run cold. Young women who were perhaps the same age as Elona, wobbled on their heels across a narrow beam. Each wore the standard black leggings and form-fitting tops. One young woman was halfway across the beam when she faltered slightly. She seemed thinner than Elona.
“Keep your core engaged!” The female with the pointer stick in her hand’s voice cracked like a whip. I assume that is Madame Delance. What name is that? “That was pathetic. Again!”
She didn’t stop there. She stalked forward with her long stick and jabbed it behind the young woman’s thigh, not hard enough to injure, but enough to humiliate. The girl flinched.
That was it.
“Delance!” I barked.
Heads turned. Even the girl on the beam lost her balance and stumbled off. Delance turned around slowly, her face a mask of calm disdain, but I could see the flicker of surprise in her eyes when she saw me striding across the floor.
“I need a word,” I snapped. “In your office. Now.”
The girls looked between us like children watching their parents fight. Delance narrowed her eyes. “I’m in the middle of a session.”
“Cancel it. Or I will.” I continued to glare at her.
Her mouth twitched at the corners like she was tempted to mock me, but something in my eyes must’ve told her I wasn’t bluffing. Without another word, she turned on her heel and walked out. I followed, my fists clenched, and my jaw tight.
In her office, she moved with the same deliberate grace as if she were on stage. When the door clicked shut, she turned to face me, arms crossed.
“You’ve got some nerve storming into my studio and disrupting my lesson,” she said coldly.
“You’ve got some nerve calling that abuse a lesson,” I countered, my voice shaking with fury. “Elona won’t be here today. Do you want to know why? Because she’s in the hospital. Because of you.” I pointed my index finger at her.
Delance didn’t flinch. She tilted her head, completely unfazed. “Modeling isn’t a pillow fight, Mr. Crane. This industry demands perfection. It requires resilience.”
“She has bruises all over her body,” I said through gritted teeth. “She collapsed from exhaustion. She hasn’t eaten. I know you had a part in that because of how skinny these girls already are. And you’re standing there defending it?”
Her gaze didn’t waver. “I’m not defending it. I’m explaining it. Every girl who wants the stage has to prove they can take it.”
“She’s a human being, not a soldier in a damn war zone!” I growled. “You think pushing someone to the brink is what creates greatness? What it creates is trauma.”
Delance walked toward the window, as if my words were nothing but background noise. “Do you know how many girls dream of making it to the center of the runway? They would kill for the chance to be in Elona’s position.”
“She almost died for it,” I said flatly. “You’re lucky she’s alive.”
Finally, she turned to face me again. “I’m fond of Elona. She has something the others don’t. Grace. Fire. If I’m hard on her, it’s because she can take it.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it,” I snapped. “Being fond of her doesn’t give you the right to break her. And the others? Are they not good enough to deserve compassion?”
Her lips curled. “Compassion has no place in fashion.”
“You know what else doesn’t?” I took a step closer. “Negligence. And from what I have heard at the hospital, complaints have already started piling up. Girls coming in with bruises. Eating disorders. Panic attacks. You think you can keep skating by because your studio has prestige?” Her expression finally changed, but just slightly. A shadow passed over her eyes. “Let me guess,” I continued. “Austin Luca? He mentioned me, didn’t he? He was the one who recommended Elona to you, didn’t he? You clearly know my last name.”
She raised a brow. “So you do know him.”
“Don’t play coy. Did you plan this with him? Elona being invited here… was that a setup to get back at me?”
She scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself. I knew Austin back in the day. We did shoots together. Eventually got married. But he used me like he used everyone else to climb higher. So no, I didn’t plan this. But it’s a small world. He was my husband and I knew my husband’s past. Whatever you two have going on, it’s no longer my business. People with ambition always cross paths.”
“Well, consider this your last stop,” I said, stepping back. “Because if you don’t change how things are run around here, there will be consequences. Real ones. Investigations. Reports. Exposure.”
She straightened her back like a queen on her throne. “Is that a threat, Mr. Crane?”
“No,” I said, my voice like ice. “It’s a promise.”
I walked out, leaving the door open behind me. I could feel her gaze burning holes into my back, but I didn’t care. Elona was worth more than this place could ever offer. And I would burn it to the ground if it meant protecting her.