Chapter 335

Josh's Point of View

Camera flashes exploded like lightning as Sara stepped onto the red carpet. Fashion Week's opening gala always drew media attention, but tonight felt different. Every lens focused on us, hungry for hints of scandal between manager and model.

I maintained professional distance, walking two steps behind her while she commanded the spotlight. The midnight blue gown Helena had chosen hugged her curves, making her look like a goddess descended to earth. My heart ached just looking at her.

"Sara! Over here!"

"Miss Brown, a moment!"

"Is it true about you and your manager?"

She handled each question with effortless grace, neither confirming nor denying the rumors about us. Just smiled that enigmatic smile that drove photographers wild.

"My relationship with Mr. Sinclair is exactly what it appears to be," she told one particularly persistent reporter. "He's an exceptional manager who believes in my potential."

My chest tightened at her diplomatic answer. After our midnight encounter in the kitchen last week, every interaction felt charged with unspoken tension.

"But the chemistry between you is obvious," the reporter pressed. "Surely there's more to the story?"

Sara's laugh sparkled like champagne. "Isn't there always? But tonight isn't about gossip. It's about celebrating fashion and art."

Pride swelled in my chest as she deflected attention back to the event. She'd grown so much from that nervous girl at her first shoot. Now she commanded these situations like she'd been born to them.

Inside the venue, more cameras tracked our movements. I kept careful watch for threats after the incident with her stalker, but Sara showed no sign of anxiety.

"Relax," she murmured as we found our seats. "Your jaw is going to break from clenching."

"Just doing my job."

Her eyes softened. "Is that all you're doing?"

Before I could respond, designers and fashion editors swarmed our table. Everyone wanted a piece of Sara's rising star, and she gave each person exactly what they needed - charm, wit, that infectious laugh that made everyone feel special.

"She's remarkable," Helena appeared beside my chair. "You should be proud."

"I am." The words came automatically, but they were true.

"Proud enough to stop punishing yourself?" She raised an elegant eyebrow. "The world already thinks you're together. Would making it true be so terrible?"

"Mom..."

"Just watch her." Helena nodded toward where Sara held court, cameras flashing. "Really watch her. She's stronger than you think."

I couldn't help but stare as Sara worked the room. Every gesture, every smile radiated confidence and joy. No one would guess she'd been up at 3 AM fighting nightmares about becoming her mother.

The fashion show began, but I barely saw the clothes. My attention kept drifting to Sara's profile, remembering how she'd felt in my arms that night. How right it had seemed until fear made me run again.

"Mr. Sinclair?" A reporter materialized beside me. "Care to comment on the rumors about your relationship with Miss Brown?"

"Our relationship is strictly professional." The lie tasted bitter.

"Really?" She pulled out her phone, showing me a photo from minutes ago, the way I'd been staring at Sara, naked longing clear on my face. "This doesn't look strictly professional."

Heat crept up my neck. "No comment."

Sara's hand touched my arm, making me jump. "Is everything alright?"

"Just discussing your obvious chemistry," the reporter smiled triumphantly. "Care to explain this photo?"

Sara glanced at the screen, then met my panicked gaze with calm assurance. "What's to explain? When you work closely with someone talented and dedicated, admiration is natural. Josh has been instrumental in my success."

"Just success?" The reporter's smile turned predatory. "Nothing more personal?"

"Define personal." Sara's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Is it personal that he believes in me? That he sees my potential? That he's helped me become who I am?"

Her words hit like arrows to my chest. The reporter leaned forward eagerly, sensing a story.

"So you admit there are feelings involved?"

"Of course there are feelings." Sara's hand squeezed my arm gently. "Respect. Gratitude. Trust. The rest..." She smiled mysteriously. "Well, that's between us, isn't it?"

She pulled me away before the reporter could respond, navigating through the crowd with practiced ease.

"You shouldn't encourage them," I managed when we reached a quiet corner.

"Why not? They'll speculate anyway." She turned to face me, close enough that her perfume made me dizzy. "Unless you'd rather I denied feeling anything for you at all?"

"Sara..."

"Because I can't do that anymore." Her voice dropped lower. "Can't pretend I don't see how you look at me when you think no one's watching. Can't pretend I don't feel this too."

The space between us crackled with electricity. Every camera in the room seemed trained on our intimate moment.

"They're watching," I whispered.

"Let them." She stepped closer. "I'm tired of hiding, Josh. Tired of pretending."

My hands itched to pull her close, to show the world exactly what she meant to me. But old fears died hard.

"Your career-"

"Is mine to risk." Her eyes held challenge. "The question is: are you brave enough to risk yours?"

Before I could answer, duty called us back to the event. But her question echoed in my mind as cameras continued documenting our every interaction.

The world already thought they knew our story. Already believed in the romance they saw unfolding before their lenses.

Would it really be so terrible to let them be right?