Chapter 4: The Night They Thought They Owned Everything
The morning of the American Couture Showcase began with someone trying to destroy my dress.
I heard the scissors before I heard the door.
A sharp metallic snip.
Then another.
I rushed into the sewing room.
Brianna stood beside my mannequin, holding a pair of expensive fabric scissors. A section of the white feathered train hung loosely from her fingers.
For one terrifying second, I couldn't breathe.
"What are you doing?""
Brianna jumped.
"Jesus! You scared me!""
I stared at the damaged train.
"Put those scissors down.""
She rolled her eyes.
"I was only looking at it.""
"Why is that feather in your hand?""
"It was sticking out.""
"Give it to me.""
She dropped the feather onto the table.
I hurried toward the mannequin, checking the layers. One of the delicate attachments had been loosened, but the underlying structure remained intact.
My hands started trembling.
"Brianna, do you understand what you've done?""
She shrugged.
"It's fabric, Nia.""
"It's my mother's final design.""
"Oh, here we go again. Everything is about your mother.""
I turned toward her.
"Leave.""
She folded her arms.
"Mom wants the room cleared. The contractors are coming.""
"I said leave!""
Brianna stared at me.
For once, she didn't have an immediate insult.
She placed the scissors on the table and walked toward the door.
But before leaving, she looked back at the enormous gown.
"You really think anybody will care about that thing?""
I lifted the damaged feather.
"Someone already does.""
She laughed.
"Good luck with that.""
The door slammed.
I locked it.
For several minutes, I couldn't bring myself to touch the dress.
Then I heard my mother's voice in my memory.
Beautiful things are worth repairing.
I sat down and carefully restored the feather arrangement.
I replaced the damaged attachment, reinforced the stitching, and checked the entire train twice.
When I finished, it looked even better than before.
At eleven that morning, a black car arrived at the mansion.
A woman in a tailored charcoal suit stepped out carrying a leather folder.
She introduced herself as Evelyn Brooks.
She was the attorney whose name appeared beneath the final instruction in my mother's letter.
"Nia Carter?""
"Yes.""
Her eyes moved toward the doorway behind me.
"May I come in? We need to discuss your mother's final arrangements.""
I led her to the sewing room.
When she saw the gown, she stopped walking.
For a moment, she simply stared.
"Goodness.""
I smiled nervously.
"Is something wrong?""
"No."" She approached the mannequin carefully.
"Your mother would have been very proud.""
I looked down.
"You knew her?""
"For nearly twenty years. I helped establish her fashion company, and I handled the legal documents when she became ill.""
I sat beside the sewing machine.
"Why didn't my father tell me?""
Evelyn placed her folder on the table.
"That is something we will need to discuss.""
She opened it and removed several documents.
The first showed my mother's signature.
The second contained a familiar silver-feather symbol.
The third was a photograph of the original black-and-white design.
"This isn't simply a fashion submission," Evelyn explained.
"Your mother left specific instructions connected to the Carter archive.""
I frowned.
"What's the Carter archive?""
"Everything she created. Her original designs, registered patterns, intellectual property, business interests, and certain private documents.""
I looked at the folder.
"Why would she hide those things?""
Evelyn paused.
"Because she knew someone might try to separate you from them.""
My stomach tightened.
"Someone?""
She looked directly at me.
"Your father.""
I sat perfectly still.
Evelyn continued.
"Your mother didn't distrust Richard at first. But near the end of her life, she discovered that he had allowed other people to make decisions about her company without consulting her.""
"Vanessa?""
"Among others.""
I remembered the pearl necklace.
The suitcase.
The empty shelves.
"Did he sell her things?""
Evelyn closed the folder.
"I cannot discuss every transaction without completing the financial review. But there are records your father should have disclosed to you.""
I felt sick.
"Why didn't you come sooner?""
"Your mother's instructions were very clear. I was not to reveal the complete arrangement until you were twenty-one and had independently completed the final couture design.""
I glanced at the gown.
"So she knew I might finish it?""
Evelyn smiled sadly.
"She hoped you would.""
She handed me a sealed envelope.
It was marked with the same silver feather.
"Don't open this yet.""
"Why?""
"Because your mother wanted you to experience the moment the world sees your work before you learn everything she left behind.""
I held the envelope.
"You're asking me to wait?""
"I'm asking you to trust the woman who knew you better than anyone.""
I stared at the seal.
Then I nodded.
Evelyn reached into her folder again.
"There is another matter. Your father's name appears on tonight's sponsor list.""
"I know. So does Vanessa's.""
"And Brianna is listed as a featured model.""
I laughed bitterly.
"Of course she is.""
Evelyn looked at the gown.
"Do you intend to attend?""
I stood.
"Yes.""
"Even knowing they'll be there?""
I adjusted one of the white feathers around the neckline.
"Especially knowing they'll be there.""
Evelyn smiled.
"Then we have some preparations to make.""
At four in the afternoon, I finally left the mansion.
I carried the mask in a protective box and wore a simple black outfit beneath a long coat.
The dress traveled separately in a garment carrier.
My father was in the entrance hall when I reached the front door.
He looked at the carrier.
"Where are you going?""
"Out.""
"With that?""
"Yes.""
He approached me.
"Is that the dress I told you to remove the label from?""
I held the garment carrier tighter.
"Yes.""
"Nia, I'm serious.""
"So am I.""
He lowered his voice.
"You're making a mistake.""
I looked at him.
"You made me believe my mother left nothing.""
Richard's expression changed.
"That's not what happened.""
"Then what happened?""
He glanced toward the staircase.
"Not here.""
"Where, then?""
He rubbed his forehead.
"You don't understand what Vanessa and I have been trying to manage.""
I stepped closer.
"Did you ever intend to tell me about Mom's company?""
His eyes widened.
Before he could answer, Vanessa appeared on the staircase.
She was wearing her fitted hot-pink gown, with the pearl necklace resting against her collarbone.
"Richard, the car is ready.""
Then she noticed my garment carrier.
"What on earth is that?""
"Something I'm taking to the showcase.""
Vanessa laughed.
"You're attending?""
"Yes.""
She walked down the stairs, studying my simple black outfit.
"Darling, that is a professional event. You cannot possibly be planning to embarrass yourself there.""
Brianna appeared behind her in her emerald-green designer dress.
"Mom, is she actually going?""
Vanessa shook her head.
"Apparently.""
Brianna smiled.
"Maybe they'll let you help backstage.""
I looked at her.
"Maybe.""
My father moved toward the door.
"Nia, I won't repeat myself. Don't create a scene tonight.""
I stopped beside him.
"Then don't give me a reason.""
I walked outside.
The car door closed behind me.
For the first time in my life, I didn't look back at the mansion.
The ballroom was magnificent.
Golden chandeliers illuminated the polished floors. Tall arrangements of white orchids stood between luxurious seating areas. Guests wore extraordinary designer clothing, and camera flashes illuminated the entrance.
At the center of the room, a long runway stretched beneath a series of brilliant spotlights.
Fashion editors whispered beside wealthy investors.
Models moved backstage.
Designers made last-minute adjustments.
I entered through the registration area.
A woman checked my invitation.
"Miss Carter?""
"Yes.""
Her expression changed as she examined the screen.
"Welcome. We've been expecting you.""
She handed me a backstage pass.
*FEATURED DESIGNER — NIA CARTER.*
I stared at it.
My name.
Not somebody else's.
Not an assistant.
Not a guest.
The designer.
A backstage coordinator approached.
"Your presentation is scheduled after the emerald collection. Your garment has been assigned a private preparation area.""
"Thank you.""
She led me toward a dressing room.
On the wall was a large screen displaying the evening's program.
My eyes stopped at the final presentation.
*THE AMARA CARTER LEGACY COLLECTION — SPECIAL FEATURE.*
Underneath was a photograph of my mother's original silver-feather emblem.
My knees nearly gave out.
Before I could say anything, Evelyn appeared beside me.
"Everything is in place.""
I looked at her.
"Why is Mom's name on the program?""
"Because it belongs there.""
She handed me a small card.
There was a message written in my mother's handwriting.
Tonight, my daughter will no longer stand in my shadow. She will stand beside me.
I pressed the card to my chest.
Then the coordinator called from the hallway.
"Miss Carter, your family has arrived.""
I looked toward the entrance.
Through the open dressing-room door, I saw Vanessa's hot-pink dress.
Brianna's emerald gown.
And my father's royal-blue suit.
They were laughing.
They had no idea who they were about to see.
Evelyn gently touched my shoulder.
"Are you ready?""
I looked at the mannequin.
The black corset gleamed beneath the lights. The white feathers framed the neckline. The enormous feathered train rested across the floor like a magnificent pair of wings.
I picked up the masquerade mask.
"Yes.""
But as I stepped toward the dressing area, a member of the event staff hurried over.
"Miss Carter, there's an issue with your family.""
I frowned.
"What happened?""
She lowered her voice.
"Your father has just requested that your presentation be removed from the program.""
My blood ran cold.
"And what did you tell him?""
May you like
The woman glanced toward the ballroom.
"We told him the presentation is no longer his decision.""
