Chapter 4
Isadora's POV
Three days since my perfect victory, and everything was falling apart.
I paced my bedroom, still wearing the designer dress that had brought me applause and roses. The same dress that bitch had created while I took all the credit.
But it didn't matter. I'd won. The fashion world knew my name now, not hers.
So why did Father want to see Seraphina alone in his study?
"Isadora, darling, stop pacing. You're making me nervous." Mother's voice was sharp with anxiety.
"Something's wrong. Father never calls private meetings unless—"
"Unless what?"
"Unless he's changing his mind."
The thought made my stomach clench with pure terror. I'd worked too hard, sacrificed too much to let that nobody steal my birthright.
Jesse appeared in my doorway, looking like death warmed over. "Your father wants to see Seraphina. Alone."
"I know that, you idiot!" I snapped. "The question is why."
Mother and Jesse exchanged worried glances. They felt it too—the shift in the air, the sense that everything we'd built was about to crumble.
"We need to know what they're discussing," Mother said quietly.
I was already moving toward the door. "Then let's fucking find out."
We crept down the hallway like thieves in our own home, pressing ourselves against the wall outside Father's study.
Through the heavy oak door, I could hear Father's voice—warm, almost tender. A tone he'd never used with me.
"Seraphina, I owe you an apology. I've been blind to your true talent for too long."
My blood turned to ice. No. No, no, no.
"You are the rightful heir of Aurora. That design... it has your soul in every thread."
The words hit me like a physical blow. I pressed my hand to my mouth to keep from screaming.
Everything was falling apart. Everything.
Mother grabbed my arm, her nails digging in so hard they drew blood. Jesse looked like he might vomit.
Father continued inside: "I'm officially naming you as Aurora's heir. But I need you to keep this quiet for a few days while I handle the legal arrangements."
I wanted to break down that door and claw her eyes out. I wanted to scream until my throat bled.
Mother's voice shook as she replied: "We can't let this happen, Isadora. We simply can't."
Jesse tried to be the voice of reason, the weak fool. "Maybe we should just accept—"
"Accept?" I whirled on him, my voice a venomous hiss. "Jesse, if she becomes the heir, we'll have nothing. Nothing!"
The study door began to open. We scattered like cockroaches, slipping into the shadows before that bitch could see us.
But as I watched her walk down the hallway with that disgustingly hopeful expression, a cold calculation settled over me.
If Seraphina thought she could just waltz in and steal my life, she was about to learn how wrong she was.
Some problems required permanent solutions.
Seraphina's POV
I walked down the hallway in a daze, Father's words still echoing in my mind.
'Rightful heir of Aurora.'
I practically floated up to my attic room, my heart lighter than it had been in years. Soon, I'd leave this cramped space behind for good. Soon, I'd have the resources and platform to create without limits.
Soon, I'd be free.
I spent the rest of the evening sketching new designs, my mind buzzing with possibilities.
But I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.
The house felt different—charged with an electric tension that made my skin crawl. Twice, I thought I heard whispered conversations that stopped abruptly when I approached.
Isadora hadn't spoken to me since the competition results. Not that I expected her to congratulate me, but her silence felt more pointed than usual.
'Paranoid,' I told myself. 'You're just not used to good things happening.'
But as night fell, the unease only grew stronger.
The next afternoon, I was in the garden sketching when Jesse appeared on the stone path. The afternoon sun cast long shadows through the sycamore leaves, and something about his expression made me wary.
"Sera, I know I hurt you terribly. But our friendship meant everything to me."
I didn't look up from my sketchpad. "Did it, Jesse? Because it looked like Isadora meant more."
"That was the biggest mistake of my life. Please, let me make it right."
There was something desperate in his voice that made me finally meet his eyes. He looked haunted, like he hadn't slept in days.
"What do you want from me?"
"Just a chance to explain. Meet me tonight, and I'll tell you everything."
Against every instinct screaming at me to refuse, I found myself nodding. Maybe it was the memory of our childhood friendship, or maybe I was just tired of carrying so much anger.
"Where?"
"I know a quiet place where we won't be interrupted. I'll text you the address."
The Brooklyn textile factory loomed against the night sky like something out of a nightmare.
Jesse led me through the rusted entrance, his flashlight creating weak pools of light in the oppressive darkness.
"Jesse, why did you bring me here? This place feels... dangerous."
"It's quiet here. No one will interrupt us."
The smell hit me then—sharp, chemical, wrong. "I smell gasoline. What's going on?"
"I... I don't know. Maybe it's from old machinery."
But the smell was everywhere, saturating the air like a toxic cloud. My heart started racing as realization dawned.
'Run. Run now.'
Before I could move, they stepped out of the shadows.
Isadora emerged first, her perfect smile twisted into something monstrous. Mother followed, her usual composure replaced by something wild and desperate.
"Surprise, dear sister! Did you really think we'd let you take everything?"
"Isadora... Mother... how could you?"
Mother's laugh was bitter poison. "You were always the wrong child, Seraphina. Tonight, we correct that mistake."
Jesse's voice cracked behind me. "Sera, I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry."
"Sorry doesn't change anything, Jesse." Isadora produced a silver lighter, the flame dancing in her eyes like hellfire. "It's too late for regrets."
"No, Isadora, please! This is insane!"
"What's insane is watching you steal my life!"
The lighter fell.
Fire erupted everywhere, transforming the factory into hell in seconds. I ran deeper into the building, away from the main blaze, but flames bloomed around me like deadly flowers.
"Help me! Please, someone help me!"
Isadora's voice echoed through the inferno: "No one's coming, Seraphina. This is where your story ends."
As smoke filled my lungs and consciousness faded, one thought pierced the chaos:
"Sebastian... I should have called you..."
Darkness claimed me as the flames danced higher.
But cutting through the smoke and fire, a familiar figure came running my way...