One Night With My Alpha Professor by Eve Above Story

Chapter 279

Audrey

Edwin and I emerged from the small room, his hand still resting protectively on my back. The hustle and bustle of last- minute preparations immediately hit us, assistants running back and forth, models being ushered into position, and the soft hum of the audience’s chatter drifting through the walls.

“I guess no one would have noticed our little tryst anyway,” Edwin mused under his breath with a smirk.

I glanced up at him, wiggling my eyebrows suggestively. But a sound caused us both to whip our heads toward the dressing

area.

“Owww! My ankle!”

Exchanging worried glances, Edwin and I rushed toward the sound. A small group had gathered in a huddle near the back of the dressing area. In the center of the commotion was a young woman, one of the models, seated on a chair with her head in her hands. Her shoulders shook as she cried out.

I hurried over, Edwin following closely behind.

“What happened?” I asked, kneeling in front of the model. She looked up at me, her face pale, tears clinging to her lashes. “I–I twisted my ankle really bad,” she stammered, wincing as she shifted her foot slightly. “I was fine earlier, but it hurts to put any weight on it now…”

Someone behind her chimed in, “She tripped backstage. I thought she’d just shaken it off, but…”

I glanced down at her ankle, which was already beginning to swell slightly under the delicate straps of her shoe. The show was minutes from starting. Panic might have been setting in, but I couldn’t afford that luxury–not now.

I took a calming breath, tapping into that silver pool of energy inside of me. With a reassuring smile, I reached out to touch/ her ankle. “May I?” I asked.

She winced, flinching away.

“It’s alright,” I murmured. “I’ll help you.”

a moment of hesitation, the model finally nodded and

touch her ankle.

my fingertips.

felt the tension in the model’s ankle release, her muscles relaxing

whispered, pulling my hand back. “Try

of surprise and relief on her face. Her tears began to fade as

hurt anymore,” she breathed, a smile breaking

for. Now, get

now gone. The relief from the surrounding crew was palpable, and I looked up at Edwin,

as

said, clapping her hands

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to play, a hush fell over the audience. I slipped into

first model

matching trousers and blazer set with an oversized, masculine fit. The shoulders draped easily over the model’s slender form, her pointed–toe heels clicking

and gold threads that he had used to stitch everything together glimmered under the stage lights. Cameras flashed, the crowd oohing and ahhing over the

dress made by my mother in a warm gold tone. The plunging neckline accentuated the model’s bust, the strappy heels and golden arm

the countless hours, the intricate stitching, the late–night sketches, and

I glanced up, finding Edwin beside me, his gaze focused on the runway but his approval humming through the bond. My mother stood on my other side, wrapping her arm around

even speak. None of us could. We just watched in awe, holding each other. Piece after piece walked the runway, and the audience’s murmurs of appreciation grew louder, a few exclamations of awe reaching my ears as each new design was revealed. It seemed that our

then, finally, it was time for the

mother. I hoped that this piece wasn’t too out there, too eccentric. I hoped that people would understand the meaning behind it and not see it

nonsense.

as the final model stepped onto the runway.

he’d shown me, the flowers and birds and rays of sunlight.

coalescing into the