The Unwanted Wife's Return (Ex-Husband Wants Me Back) novel Chapter 18

Backstage Wars 

HANNAH’S POV: 

A WEEK LATER: 

“We need to change this…” 

“Are the makeup artists present and have the girls started getting their hair done?” 

“Hold on, where is Maya and have my kids arrived with Lucas?” 

My voice was sharp, cutting through the whirlwind of chatter backstage. The Duncan Fashion Festival was the event of the season. Every camera that mattered was here. Every fashion critic that could build or ruin a reputation, was already sipping champagne in the front row. And yet, my backstage looked like a storm had just ripped through it. Assistants ran left and right, stylists squatted over models adjusting hems, and hair dryers and/ straighteners roared like engines. 

My stress levels were through the roof. And as everyone knew, I was a perfectionist. Not the kind that frowned over crooked stitches, though I did that too sometimes but the kind who believed every detail mattered. One slip, one error, and the press would run with it for weeks. It would drive me crazy that just because I missed a single detail, everything else didn’t matter. 

I sighed heavily and pushed my way through a group of assistants balancing a dozen bags. I slipped into my dressing room and shut the door behind me harder than I intended. 

The silence that followed was comforting. 

I pressed my back to the door, let my head fall against it, and exhaled. For a moment, I let my eyes close. Just one moment to reset. 

The handle clicked, and the door creaked open about a second after. 

Kara, my assistant, peeked in before stepping fully inside. 

“Mrs. Jones,” she started carefully, “I wanted to let you know your kids are yet to arrive with Mr. Lucas. I gave him a call, and he said he’d call you any moment from now. Also, the models need about twenty more minutes before they’re ready. We go out by five, so they should be all ready before then but you need to also start getting ready.” 

I nodded, pushing off the door. “Fine.” 

“And… the guests, elites, reporters, celebrities, they’re all arriving already, just as the organizers assured. Everything is going to go smoothly, ma’am, and….” She trailed off and her smile faltered. A distant, tinny voice crackled in her earpiece. Her eyes darted to mine, wide and uneasy. 

“She’s lying!” Celeste argued, pointing a manicured finger across the room. “I saw her tugging at the hem of one of the gowns. If Kara hadn’t stepped in, the stitching would’ve ripped right there!” 

Gasps erupted from the group, my own included especially those still seated and getting their makeups done. 

“That’s ridiculous!” the other model exclaimed, crossing her arms. “Your dress is obviously cheap if a tug could ruin it. Don’t blame us for your sloppy work.” She smirked like she had been planning that line for days and she was excited to see how it will all play. 

I instantly jerked my head back and towards her and my blood heated. “Excuse me?” 

I stepped forward. “Nothing about my collection is sloppy. Watch your tone.” 

The girl faltered, her eyes darting away, but her teammates smirked. 

Another of Sienna’s models added in a low tone, rolling her eyes. “Everyone knows Mrs. Jones is only back because the company is running to the ground. We might have just wanted to help things go there faster. 

Gasps and whispers filled through the room. My models flared up, taking a defensive step toward me.