CHAPTER 34: CHAPTER 34: MR. STERLING, PLEASE BEHAVE YOURSELF

Five minutes before Fashion Week began, Sophia Lowell hurriedly arrived at her seat.

The venue was almost full at this point, and Sophia sat down, panting, nodding at Zane Sterling.

Zane noticed the thin sheen of sweat on her forehead, took out a pack of tissues from his pocket, and handed her one.

"Thanks," she said.

Without saying anything, he leaned back on the chair and wrapped his arm around her waist.

Sophia turned her head to look at him, thinking how bold he was. No wonder their seats were the most secluded among their group; it was all part of his plan.

With his broad body, he shielded her from Wyatt Nash and the others’ gazes, enclosing her in his arms.

She leaned back, pressing his hand hard against the chair.

Zane smiled slightly, his large hand squeezing her waist firmly.

"Mmph!" Sophia couldn’t help but let out a soft grunt, quickly pretending to cough, lest others notice anything suspicious.

A blush slowly spread across her face, as the sweat she’d just wiped off began to betray her again.

"Mr. Sterling, please behave," Sophia whispered a warning as she turned her head.

He smirked but said nothing, continuing to hold her.

Sophia sighed.

Her gaze met a pair of charming eyes on the opposite side.

The woman seemed to have a familiar quality in her eyes, revealing no emotions, as her captivating fox-like eyes stared directly at their side.

She was strikingly beautiful, with long, black hair, wearing a high-end cropped cardigan over a white high-neck cashmere top, fitted jeans, and knee-high boots, strikingly stunning.

Sophia stared at her, almost entranced.

Suddenly, she smiled, seeming both provocative and envious.

Sophia shivered and was about to ask Zane when she noticed his icy eyes briefly flash over to the opposite side before withdrawing.

She dared not ask, realizing they must know each other and sensing that the woman seemed to have an unfriendly gaze, while Zane showed no intention of engaging.

The show was about to start.

Zane finally understood Sophia’s question from last night: "Don’t you have anything to ask?"

Because at this moment, leading out was Cheryl Shaw, with her model-perfect face, devoid of expression or emotion, walking steadily.

He turned his attention back to Sophia, realizing for the first time he might not know her as well as he thought.

The Hugh Irving she mentioned was likely the renowned designer Hugh Irving in the industry. Zane chuckled, realizing he was late to realize.

He had thought the name was merely a coincidence, as he usually only heard the name without seeing photos, not bothering to recognize them, until now facing the real person.

Spectra Apparel was founded two years ago and managed to become a top player in the industry, thanks to Sophia and the young designers behind her, although truthfully lacking big-name designers to hold the forefront.

Currently, Spectra is at a bottleneck period, and without well-known designers backing them, they might be outcompeted by peers.

Sophia followed Cheryl Shaw’s movements with her gaze, eventually focusing on a black model.

Her eyes instantly lost focus, wandering, her lips pressed into a line, as a mist settled over her clear eyes.

Zane attentively observed the spring collection worn by the black model, featuring a white semi-high collar with a diagonally crosswise green band from shoulder to waist, green trim at the sleeves and neckline, with puffed sleeves.

She withdrew her gaze: "That is the work of the scatterbrain."

"I wonder if she is present today," Zane attentively watched the runway, turning his head to listen to her, the two close like whispering sweet nothings between a couple.

"She should be here, as it’s her first invitation to participate in Fashion Week—a significant event for her."

Sophia smiled coyly, unintentionally catching sight of the opposite pair of bright fox-like eyes again.

The eyes were gentle but cold, sending a shiver down her spine, leaving her uneasy.

"Mr. Sterling, could you remove your hand? I’m sitting uncomfortably," Sophia wanted to escape those eyes, feeling like prey.

"No," he was adamant, as if putting on a show, with her as the scapegoat.

The show lasted for over an hour, the scene awe-inspiring with clothing styles and designs leaving the audience in admiration.

So much so that after the show ended, Ethan Sinclair notified their small group at the Fashion Week exhibition, requesting that they write reflections once back home.

Sigh, workers, after two days of joy, return to labor like beasts.

Instead of leaving, they gathered to listen to interviews with the designers.

"Zane," a sweet voice emerged behind them.

Sophia and the others all turned to look, except for Zane, who used his peripheral vision to glance over before withdrawing his gaze again.

Sophia finally saw the woman’s face clearly, swallowing slightly.

The woman was truly beautiful, not a sharply pointed chin, alluring eyes, with a refined makeup that brightened one’s view.

Sophia recognized her as Zane’s ex-girlfriend with whom he dined at the restaurant the other day!

Wow, how thrilling to encounter your husband’s ex here.

"Mr. Sterling, someone is looking for you," Sophia shouted at Zane, seemingly wanting more drama.

Zane lowered his gaze at Sophia, his cold stare piercing like icicles.

She swiftly shut her mouth, focusing her eyes on the interview place ahead, while the others wisely averted their gazes.

Ethan turned his head, quietly asking Sophia: "Are you looking to eat some spicy squid from the boss?"

"I’d love to, but no chance," she grinned impishly.

"Be careful, tonight Mr. Sterling might not spare you!" Ethan warned.

"Not likely," she scoffed, ears perked high.

They had a flash wedding, without foundational emotion, right? Hardly constitutes a major issue?

Zane shifted his posture slightly, glancing at the woman: "Tim Sawyer."

Her name was Tim Sawyer.

"Would you join us for dinner tonight?" Tim Sawyer’s voice was so sultry it could delight women too: "The company only sent me here, and I coincidentally met someone familiar. I’m unfamiliar with this place; can you include me for dinner tonight? I’ll pay."

"Sure," he agreed without hesitation.

Sophia paused, perplexed.

Didn’t he say it was impossible with an ex? Why include her for dinner?

Suddenly, her chest felt tight, breath difficult to catch.

"See you tonight," Tim’s happiness was palpable as she left, her high-heeled boots clicking away.

Zane clenched his molars, turned, and his solid shoulder collided hard with Sophia’s.

"!!" Sophia almost stumbled, hurriedly grabbing his clothing to regain footing.

Ethan beside them hesitated to help, quickly shifting two steps aside.

"Ms. Lowell, impressive show. I’ll treat you to coriander tonight," Zane said.

Sophia was speechless; coriander was her least favorite thing. She couldn’t stand even the smell.

Who leaked this to him? They hadn’t eaten together much, and coriander seemed absent.

"Mr. Sterling, Ms. Lowell doesn’t like coriander," Wyatt Nash cheerily intervened on her behalf.

"I do," Zane retorted, a chill flickering in his lens, gaze still fixed on Sophia.

Beside him, Bianca White twisted Wyatt Nash’s arm, signaling him to hush.