City of Glass Heels
Chapter 6: Watchdogs and Warnings
The next morning, Ava walked into the office with dark circles under her eyes and three caramel espresso shots burning in her stomach. Her presentation deck was at seventy percent, and she'd lined up a photographer known for underground fashion editorials. The mood board looked like rebellion, lit in gold and smoke.
She felt powerful.
And watched.
By noon, she noticed it. The stares. The slow-turning heads when she walked by. The sudden hush when she entered the break room. At first she thought she was imagining it. Then she caught Madison leaning too close to Raymond's desk. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but she didn't like the way Madison tilted her head, all confidence and venom.
Ava stepped back into the hallway before they saw her.
Back at her desk, she focused on the work. She renamed all of Reina's sketches again, just in case. Switched cloud folders. Cleared browser history. But the paranoia didn't leave.
By three, Reina messaged her.
The prototype jackets are ready. I want your eyes on them before the shoot.
Ava texted back.
Tonight? I can come after 7.
The response came within seconds.
I'll be here. Bring clear eyes. The seams tell stories.
The rest of the day passed like a slow boil. Madison didn't say a word, which was somehow worse. Raymond barely looked at her. And yet, Ava felt like her every move was being logged somewhere. She started using burner emails. Left her sketchbook at home.
By the time she arrived at Reina's studio, the city was glowing with early summer dusk. The windows of the loft were thrown open, and she could hear faint music drifting out into the street—something orchestral and stormy.
Ellis opened the door without a word. Just nodded.
Inside, three mannequins stood in the center of the studio, each one wearing a version of the same jacket. All black. High-collared. Asymmetrical cuts. One had slashes of blood red through the lining. Another had silver wire threaded like veins down the sleeves. The third was stitched with tiny hand-embroidered phrases in a language Ava didn't recognize.
"They're incredible," Ava said, circling the designs.
"They're warnings," Reina said from behind her.
Ava turned.
Reina was barefoot again, but tonight she wore a tailored tunic with a military cut. There was something in her face that hadn't been there last time. Fatigue. Or maybe calculation.
"These pieces will speak before anyone says a word," Reina said. "But only if the world sees them right."
"I've got the photographer locked," Ava said. "Shoots this weekend. We'll use the rooftop of the Madison Forge building. Late light. Wide skyline."
Reina studied her for a long moment. Then she asked, quietly, "Do they suspect you?"
"Not yet," Ava said. "But someone's watching. Maybe Madison. Maybe Raymond."
Reina didn't flinch. She walked over to one of the jackets and pulled it down from the mannequin.
Then she held it out to Ava.
"Try it on."
Ava slipped her arms through the sleeves. It fit perfectly. The fabric felt heavy with purpose. When she looked in the mirror, she barely recognized herself. Not a coffee-fetching assistant. Not a girl hoping for scraps.
She looked like someone dangerous.
"I've never seen you scared," Ava said softly, still looking at her reflection.
Reina walked up behind her.
"I'm not scared. I'm prepared."
Ava met her eyes in the mirror. "Prepared for what?"
"For war."
Let me know if you'd like to continue to Chapter 7. In the next chapter, the rooftop shoot pushes Ava deeper into the game—and someone unexpected shows up to watch her fall.