Beverly Hills Gala Venue – 1 Hour Before Showtime
The dressing room reeked of panic and perfume. Jade stabbed a pin into the emerald velvet, ignoring the way her hands shook. The Ankara lining was a secret now—stitched into the bodice in sharp, geometric patterns that would flash like lightning when Sophia turned. The 3D-printed Ankole horns sat heavy on her workbench, gold paint still tacky to the touch.
"Jade, the board is furious," Liam hissed into his phone. "They're demanding you apologize for the 'cultural insensitivity' hashtag."
"I'm not apologizing for Sophia's racism," Jade snapped, trimming a loose thread. "Tell them if they want a scapegoat, they can kiss my Black ass."
Liam sighed, the sound crackling over the line. "Ethan's handling them, but you need to be ready for backlash. And Sophia's team is leaking footage of you arguing with her in the studio."
Jade's stomach dropped. "What?"
"Security cam footage. It's grainy, but they're spinning it as 'J. Carter attacking a white actress.'" Liam paused. "Are you sure you want to go through with this? We can switch to the backup gown—"
"No." Jade stared at her reflection in the mirror, her curls pinned up to reveal the faint scar beneath her makeup. "This gown is happening. And when Sophia walks out in it, they'll see exactly who's been lying here."
The door opened, and Ethan stepped in, looking like sin in a tuxedo. His gaze locked on her, intense and unreadable, before he turned to Liam. "Give us a minute."
Liam hesitated, then nodded, shooting Jade a worried glance before closing the door.
Alone now, Ethan crossed the room in three long strides. Jade could smell the whiskey on him—stronger than before, mixed with the salt of sweat. His left hand was clenched into a fist, knuckles white with the effort of hiding a tremor.
"Sophia's team dropped the footage," he said, voice tight. "The headline is 'Angry Black Designer Threatens White Star.'"
"So you're here to make me apologize?" Jade raised her chin, defiant. "To tell me I need to swallow this for the company's image?"
"No." He grabbed her wrist suddenly, spinning her to face the vanity mirror. In the reflection, her pupils dilated as his lips grazed her ear. "I'm here to tell you to hell with the company's image. But if we're going to win, we do it on my terms."
Jade's heart raced as his thumb pressed into the inside of her wrist, where her pulse fluttered like a trapped bird. She leaned into him deliberately, placing her palm on his chest to feel the rapid thud of his heart. "What terms?"
"You walk the red carpet with me tonight." His voice was rough, graveled by something that sounded like desire. "On my arm, smiling like we share a secret. And when Sophia wears that gown, you stand beside me and make sure everyone sees—"
"Sees what?" she whispered, letting her lashes brush his cheek.
"Sees how可笑 their prejudices are." He stepped back but kept her hand in his, his grip firm. "Sees a Black girl and a white CEO burning their rules to the ground."
Jade searched his eyes, trying to parse whether this was strategy or sincerity. Beneath the storm in his gaze, she caught a flicker of the same vulnerability she'd seen in the stairwell—the man afraid of being defined by his disease.
"And this." He released her to pull a small box from his pocket. "Wear this."
Inside was a diamond earring, cut in the rough shape of an unpolished stone, the interior etched with tiny Ankara patterns. "This is…"
"A replica of a 19th-century South African miner's talisman," he said. "Back then, they'd carve these to hide uncut diamonds from white overseers."
Jade looked up at him, throat tight. He'd remembered the miner story she'd scribbled in her design notes—the metaphor of resistance and concealment.
"Thank you," she said softly, fastening the earring. "But you know diamonds are a white man's invention, right?"
His嘴角 quirked into a dangerous smile. "Then we'll reinvent them."
Suddenly, chaos erupted outside. "Jade!" It was Malik's voice. "Sophia won't put on the gown unless you apologize personally—"
The door slammed open. Sophia stormed in, flanked by three security guards. She wore the backup gown—a boring white sheath镶满廉价水钻. "There she is!" She pointed at Jade. "The lunatic who attacked me!"
Before Jade could react, Sophia lunged, her nails raking across Jade's cheek. Pain exploded across her face, the coppery taste of blood on her tongue—Sophia had torn open the scar beneath her makeup, mixing old pain with new.
"Sophia, enough!" Ethan grabbed her wrist, but she wrenched free.
"No, let her see!" Sophia turned to the guards. "Look what she did to my dress!" She ripped open the neckline, revealing the Ankara lining beneath. "She used this cheap fabric to humiliate me, said I 'needed some Black soul'!"
The guards gasped. Jade pressed a hand to her bleeding cheek, then laughed—not from pain, but from the absurdity of Sophia's desperation. She should have known the other woman would misinterpret the lining, but she hadn't anticipated how perfectly it would disguise their real weapon.
"I insisted on the lining," Ethan said coolly. "It's a preview of our new collection, and Sophia is cooperating. Isn't that right, darling?"
Sophia paled, staring at him, then at Jade, before storming out in a swirl of tulle. The guards shuffled after her, leaving Jade and Ethan alone again.
"Why did you do that?" Jade asked, her fingers pressing into the tender skin above her scar.
Ethan reached out, brushing a smear of blood from her lower lip with his thumb, the gesture both tender and possessive. "Because after tonight, we either rise together or crash. And I haven't had a good crash in years."
There was a challenge in his words, an invitation, and something deeper—trust, or perhaps a shared hunger for annihilation. Jade thought of the pill bottle in his pocket, the tremor he fought to hide, and understood: They were both prisoners in their own skin, just with different chains.
"Let's crash then," she said, picking up the Ankole horn shoulder piece. "But first, let's set this whole thing on fire."
Thirty minutes later
At the end of the red carpet, flashbulbs exploded like a storm. Jade clung to Ethan's arm, the diamond earring heavy against her lobe, as if it really held an uncut gem. She could feel his heartbeat thundering through his suit, rapid but steady, matching her own.
"J. Carter! What's your relationship with Ethan Voss?"
"Care to respond to the #CulturalAppropriator hashtag?"
"Is it true Sophia Blake accused you of racism?"
Ethan leaned down, his mouth brushing her ear. "Smile and say, 'Wait and see.'"
She did, her smile sharp as a blade. "Wait and see."
In the dressing room, Malik adjusted Sophia's shoulder piece, his hands shaking. "Are you sure about this?" he asked. "Jade's my best friend—"
"And I'm the one who can save your clinic from foreclosure," Sophia said, staring at her reflection. "Put the horns on, Doctor. After tonight, either I'll be a pariah… or."
"Or what?"
She gave a bitter smile. "Or I'll finally learn what real courage looks like."
On stage, the lights flared. Sophia stepped into the spotlight, the emerald velvet pooling around her like liquid night. When she turned to wave, the Ankara lining flashed like a rebellion, geometric patterns catching the light in a burst of color.
The crowd gasped, then erupted into a frenzy of shutters. Jade felt Ethan's fingers tense on her waist as Liam's voice crackled over the walkie-talkie: "The hashtag's exploding! #SophiaDressSecret is trending worldwide!"
But Jade couldn't look away from Sophia's face—the woman who'd called her "too Black" now had tears in her eyes, not of triumph, but of release, as if shedding a skin she'd worn too long.
"See?" Ethan murmured. "Not appropriation. Reclamation."
Jade nodded, suddenly understanding: Diamonds didn't get their power from being cut. They got it from surviving the pressure to stay unbroken. She turned to Ethan, finding him already watching her, his gaze blazing with something she didn't dare name.
Across the room, Liam was deep in conversation with a Black DJ wearing the rainbow cufflinks he'd gifted him. Malik stood in the wings, staring at Sophia with a mix of wariness and fascination. And Sophia, now bathed in cheers, raised her arm to let the Ankara patterns blaze like a flag.
Meanwhile, social media erupted:
- Video: Sophia's turn, Ankara patterns blazing like fire, captioned "Cultural theft or revolution?"
- Trending: #JadeCarterIsARebel
- Debate: White designers cry "reverse racism," while Black users post photos of Jade teaching free sewing classes in South Central.
Jade touched the rough diamond earring, recalling Ethan's words: "Reinvent the diamond."
Maybe real diamonds weren't the polished ones. Maybe they were the ones that refused to be anything but raw, unapologetic, and sharp enough to cut through lies.
Chapter Hook:
- Media Frenzy: The gown becomes a cultural flashpoint, catapulting Jade into the spotlight but exposing her to intensified racial vitriol.
- Unspoken Tension: Ethan and Jade's physical proximity and charged exchanges hint at a bond deeper than strategy, while Malik's interest in Sophia adds emotional complexity.
- Symbolic Reclamation: The Ankara lining's dual meaning—initially misread as mockery, now celebrated as resistance—sets the stage for Jade's rise as a symbol of Black resilience.