DANTE
I tossed my jacket on the chair and ran a hand through my hair, dragging in a long breath. I sank into the couch as I pressed my fingers to my forehead, trying to rub away the pounding ache that wouldn’t let up.
Fashion was supposed to be art. It was meant to inspire. But lately, all it gave me was meetings, deadlines, and endless demands that felt like they were sucking me dry. The beauty I once saw in it was buried under chaos.
I let my eyes close for just a second, hoping for silence, but the door flew open and the sound jolted me upright.
Helena rushed inside, her steps quick, and almost clumsy, and she held her tablet to her chest. She stopped in front of me, her face pale, lips pressed tight, and her wide eyes darting to mine.
My brows pulled together. “Why do you look lik
