Chapter 35 Sabotage and Innovation
"If Zephyra is right about who she's seeing, then the real enemy has been standing beside them all along?"
Kairo grabs her shoulders. "Who is it? Zephyra, tell me."
She can't speak. Can't breathe.
Before she can answer, her phone rings.
Unknown number.
"Ms. Lione-Draven?" A woman's voice. Young. Scared. "I need to tell you something about the sabotage."
Zephyra's heart pounds. "Who is this?"
"I worked for Isabelle. As her assistant." The voice cracks. "She fired me this morning. But you deserve the truth."
"What truth?"
"I orchestrated the sabotage. On her orders." A sob. "She wanted you weakened. Desperate. Easy to defeat."
The world tilts.
"You're lying." Zephyra breathes.
"I have proof. Emails. Voice messages. Everything." The woman sounds desperate. "I'm sending them now. I'm sorry."
The line goes dead.
Seconds later, emails flood in.
Messages from Isabelle to her assistant. Clear instructions.
"Find someone to access the studio. Destroy half the collection. Leave no trace back to us."
Voice recordings. Isabelle's voice is unmistakable.
"I want her broken. Scrambling. Do whatever it takes."
Kairo reads over her shoulder. His face goes white.
"She sabotaged you." His voice is hollow.
Percy is already calling lawyers. "This is illegal. We can sue—"
"No." Zephyra cuts him off.
"What?" Both men stare at her.
"No lawsuits. No accusations." Her voice is steel. "We have seven days. I won't waste them on revenge."
"But she destroyed your work—"
"And I'll rebuild it." Zephyra stands. Surveys the ruins. "Better than before."
"How?" Kairo gestures at the devastation. "You can't possibly—"
"Watch me." She picks up her sketchpad. "Call everyone. I need help. Now."
Kairo mobilizes like a general.
Percy coordinates emergency suppliers. Fabric houses. Pattern makers.
Elara arrives within an hour. Rolls up her sleeves.
"Tell me what you need."
Dalia comes next. Brings her private seamstresses. Six experts ready to work.
"Family helps family." She says simply.
Even Robert appears. Offering his design studio. Additional equipment.
The studio transforms into organized chaos.
Zephyra stands at the center. Redesigning on the fly.
The destroyed pieces force her to innovate.
Simpler lines. Bolder choices. More powerful.
The sabotage accidentally pushed her toward brilliance.
"This is better." She sketches frantically. "Cleaner. Stronger. More honest."
Piece One becomes rawer. Shredded silk left deliberately imperfect.
Piece Five gains new dimension. Layers of destroyed fabric incorporated intentionally.
Piece Ten transforms completely. Gold thread weaving through visible repairs. Beauty from brokenness.
"It's incredible." Elara watches her work. "The sabotage made it better."
They work twenty-hour days.
Zephyra survives on coffee and determination.
Her hands bleed from needle pricks. Her eyes burn from exhaustion.
But she doesn't stop.
Three days before Fashion Week, the news breaks.
Isabelle fires her assistant publicly.
Press releases hit every outlet.
"Ms. Castellane has terminated her assistant for unauthorized actions. Ms. Castellane demands fair competition and will not tolerate sabotage. She offers sincere apologies to Ms. Lione-Draven."
Percy reads it aloud. Voice dripping skepticism.
"She's covering herself." He says. "Making it look like she didn't know."
"Did she know?" Elara asks.
They look at the evidence. The emails. The recordings.
"Those could be faked." Kairo says slowly. "Deepfakes. Fabricated evidence."
"Or they're real." Zephyra counters. "And Isabelle ordered everything."
"Either way, she's untouchable now." Percy throws down his tablet.
"Then we beat her anyway." Zephyra returns to her sewing. "We win."
Two days before Fashion Week.
The collection is nearly complete.
Zephyra works until three AM. Then collapses over her worktable.
Kairo finds her. Gently lifts her.
"No." She protests weakly. "Not finished—"
"Sleep now." He carries her to bed. "I'll protect your dreams."
He sits in the chair beside the bed. Watching.
Guarding her rest all night.
She wakes to the morning light. Kairo is still there.
"You stayed?" Her voice is hoarse.
"All night." He smiles softly.
"The collection—"
"Is finished." Elara appears in the doorway. "We completed the last pieces while you slept."
Zephyra rushes to the studio.
Ten pieces hang on display. Complete. Powerful. Raw.
Her truth in fabric form.
Not polished. Not perfect. But honest.
"It's ready." She breathes.
They fly to Paris that afternoon.
Backstage at the venue. Chaos. Energy. Terror.
Zephyra stands in the wings. Watching her collection being prepped.
Then Isabelle appears.
Flawless. Chanel suit. Perfect hair. Confident smile.
"Zephyra." She approaches. Hand extended. "May the best designer win."
The hand hangs between them.
Zephyra thinks of the sabotage. The destroyed work. The sleepless nights.
She takes Isabelle's hand. Shakes it firmly.
"I already won." Her voice is consistent. "Because I did not compromise myself to get right here."
Isabelle's smile flickers. Just for a moment.
"Interesting perspective." She withdraws her hand. "Let's see if the judges agree."
Kairo appears beside Zephyra. "You ok?"
"I am ready." She squares her shoulders. "Whatever happens, I'm happy with what we created."
The show starts in thirty minutes.
Isabelle's design goes first.
Zephyra watches from behind the stage as the first model walks.
The design is breathtaking. Perfect creation. Best construction.
The audience gasps. Applause erupts.
Piece after piece emerges. Each more beautiful than the last.
Isabelle's collection is technically perfect.
Zephyra's stomach sinks.
Then Isabelle's final piece appears.
White silk. Gold embroidery. Absolutely flawless.
The audience rises. Standing ovation.
Isabelle bows. Gracious. Confident. Victorious.
She exits to thunderous applause.
Then turns to Zephyra in the wings.
Her smile is sharp. Knowing.
"Your turn." She says sweetly. "Try to follow that."
Zephyra's hands shake.
But Kairo squeezes her shoulder. "Show them your truth."
The music changes. Her cue.
The first model walks out.
Piece One. Shattered silk. Raw edges. Deliberately imperfect.
The audience goes silent.
Model Two. Model Three. Each piece rawer. More vulnerable.
Still silent. No applause. No reaction.
Her heart sinks.
Then something shifts.
A sound from the audience. Gasps. Tears.
Model Seven walks. Model Eight. Model Nine.
The energy changes. Building. Growing.
Then her final piece appears. Gold threading through white silk. Scars visible but beautiful.
The model walks the full runway. Turns. Pauses.
And the audience explodes.
Not polite applause. Wild cheering. People standing. Crying. Shouting.
Zephyra stares in shock.
"What just happened?"
"You won their hearts." Kairo's voice breaks.
The judges' announcement comes.
"Ladies and Gents, we've got a winner—"
The voice pauses. Static crackles.
"But, there has been an unexpected problem. Before
we announce the winner, there is something the audience needs to understand about what actually happened backstage—”
But instead of revealing a winner, does the announcement expose a truth that changes everything about who actually deserves to claim victory tonight?