bChapter 179 /b

The car ride with Celeste had been smooth, but Nivera hadn’t been.

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Nivera sat in the backseat of one of Antonio’s sleek ck car, the screen of her phone glowing in her hand. Notifications piled on top of one another so quickly that the devicegged when she tried to scroll.

Articles, paparazzi snaps, fan reactions–her face was everywhere again.

Every refresh of her screen brought new headlines, new angles, new photos fromst night’s runway.

The top model Returns in Glory.

From Disgrace to Dominance: Nivera Comeback Stuns the Fashion World.

A Star Reborn.

Even better were the hashtags. Her name was everywhere, trending worldwide, dissected in clips, slowed down frame by frame. One photo of her turning mid–stride, gown sweeping like liquid me, had already be a meme–one she could hardly recognize as herself.

“Look at this,” Celeste murmured beside her, leaning over with a smirk as she scrolled on her own phone. “Over fifteen million views on the this video already and counting. Your name’s trending in ten countries.”

She tilted the screen for Nivera to see, pride clear in her eyes. “You killed it out there. You should be proud,” Celeste said from beside her, her voice warm, as her sharp eyes scanned the articles.

“You’ve done what they said you couldn’t. The same industry that tried to bury you is now wing to worship you again.”

Nivera forced a smile. “And tomorrow, they’ll be ready to tear me apart again if something goes wrong again. You know how this works.”

Celeste studied her closely, lips pursed. “Maybe. But this time you have something they don’t–control especially with Mr Garcia behind you.”

“Hmm,” she managed a nod, because Celeste meant well, but her mind was too preupied by who was behind the attacks on her.

However, she couldn’t ponder too much on that as she had multiple meetings.

A lot of brands were requesting to meet with her and she knew what it would do to her career hence she couldn’t put it aside.

“Ready for a long day?” Celeste asked as they pulled into the parking lot of one of the building.

“Do I have a choice,” Nivera sighed as she unbuckled her seatbelt.

Byte afternoonb, /bthe shine of victory had dulled into exhaustion. Meeting after meeting had drained her- agents, designers, sponsors, all of them suddenly desperate to align themselves with the girl they had once

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avoided like a gue.

Every time she thought she’d catch a breath, another manager, editor, or brand executive had dragged her

into a side room to “touch base.”

“Let’s wrap for the day,” Celeste finally announced as they stepped out of thest ss–walled office. “It’s nearly evening, and you look like you’re about to copse.”

Niveraughed softly, tucking her phone into her bag. “That obvious?”

“Painfully. I’m exhausted as well.”

They walked together toward the exit, heels clicking against marble, the faint hum of air conditioning masking the low murmur ofte workers.

The sun outside the tall windows was preparing to set, the streets humming with traffic as everyone wanted to get home.

For a moment, Nivera allowed herself to breathe, as she imagined going home, taking off her heels, maybe curling under a nket and forgetting the world for a while.

But the thought was interrupted by a sound.

It wasn’t loud nor dramatic. Just the faint scrape of something against the polished floor behind her.

Her shoulders stiffened and her heart lurched.

Celeste noticed the way she froze, her brow knitting. “What’s wrongb?/bb” /b

Nivera swallowed, ncing over her shoulder. The hallway was empty but she was sure she had heard something.

“Nothing,” she murmured, though her voice betrayed her. “I just… thought I heard-”

Another sound interrupted her words..

Celeste’s lips parted, concern flickering across her face. It seemed Celeste had heard it as well. But before she could speak, another voice cut in–low, calm, steady.

“Miss Elton.”

They both turned sharply towards the voice,

Martins stepped out from the shadows near the exit, dressed as always in a suit.

Nivera heaved a sigh of relief as his presence was grounding. Alejandro trusted the man and so she trusted him bas /bwell to make sure nothing would happen to her.

“Martins? What are you?”

He inclined his head slightly. “Mr Garcia instructed me to stay with you.”

12:44 bSun/b, Sep 21 M

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Her chest tightened with gratitude. Alejandro. Always pulling strings from the shadows, always moving her like a chess piece. Yet this time… this time relief outweighed irritation.

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