The Mafia Wife's Revenge novel · Chapter 7 of 24

Chapter 7: Fashion Week

On Friday I walked into Fashion Week with my hand on Cillian Dunne's arm.

That was my choice.

I had told him the night before that I would not be led, and I would not be hidden.

He had said only, "Then you'll tell me where to stand."

The show was in a glass hall in Chelsea with four hundred seats and a runway of white paper.

Buyers and editors filled every chair.

In the front row sat Damian in a charcoal suit, with Vernon beside him and a bandage on Vernon's hand.

Damian saw me in the doorway.

He could not touch me for seven days, and he knew it, and his smile did not move.

Camilla came out after the last dress, in a cream gown, to a wave of applause.

She took the microphone from the host.

"Thank you," she said, warm and shaking. "This collection is the story of my heart. I drew every piece after the loss of someone I love."

The room sighed.

I walked down the side aisle with Cillian half a step behind me.

Nobody stopped me.

Damian's guards looked at him, and then at Cillian, and decided they were not paid enough.

I climbed the three steps to the runway.

Camilla saw me, and for one second her smile slipped.

I took the microphone out of her hand.

It was easy.

She was too well bred to fight for it in front of the press.

"Good evening," I said, and my rough voice filled the hall. "My name is Helena Ashworth."

"I designed every dress you have seen tonight."

A ripple went through the room.

Camilla laughed lightly.

"Everyone, please, my friend isn't well. She has had a terrible three years."

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