MidReal Story
Chapter One Prologue Ethan Dalton isn’t used to having to work for what he wants.
Scenario: Billionaire Ethan Dalton meets Chanel fashion model Isabella Noire and tries to pursue her, but she is uninterested and gives him the cold shoulder.
Create my version of this story
Chapter One
Prologue
Ethan Dalton isn’t used to having to work for what he wants.
He’s the king of high society, a charming billionaire whose name is all over the papers, the pages of GQ, and every socialite’s dream. But he has a weakness. He’s infatuated with a model who’s never given him the time of day. Isabella Noire is stunning, talented, and unattainable—or so he thinks. Isabella won’t ever give in to his playboy persona. She values her career above everything else, and she doesn’t have time for self-indulgent millionaires who think life is one big game. There are too many men like that in the fashion industry already.
She’s here to work, and nothing—nothing—is going to get in her way.
Chapter Two
Isabella
I wake up to the sound of my phone vibrating and grope around on the bedside table. It’s an unfamiliar number, but I can’t resist checking it.
It’s only three days until the big show, and I’ve been waiting for this phone call since the audition.
“Hello?”
“Isabella Noire?” a male voice asks.
“Yes. Who is this?”
“It’s Matthew from the Fallon Agency. How are you doing?”
I barely register his question because I’m so excited. “Am I in?”
“You’re in!”
I let out a squeal of excitement, and he laughs at me. “Thank you so much,” I say, trying to keep calm. “This is such a fantastic opportunity.” This is what I’ve been working toward since I was a teenager, and I’m not going to let it go to waste.
“I thought you’d be happy. We all loved your look at the audition, and when you walked the runway last night, everyone was blown away.”
“Thank you,” I say. “I’ve been working really hard.”
“Well, it shows.”
He talks me through all the details for the show, and I make a note of them on a piece of paper. The collection is going to be revealed next Monday at a New York Fashion Week showcase, and I have to be there to try on the clothes on Friday morning.
“The designer will be there for that as well,” Matthew says. “She’ll want to have a chat with you about her vision for the collection.”
“I’ll be there.” I’m so excited that I can hardly keep my voice steady. “Thank you again.”
“You’re welcome.” He laughs. “I can hear how excited you are.”
“Sorry.” I smile into the phone. “It’s just that this means so much to me.”
“I know it does.” He pauses for a moment, and then he adds, “I should probably warn you about something.”
“Warn me?” I stop smiling. “About what?”
“There’s a good chance that there’ll be someone tall, dark, and handsome in the audience on Monday,” he says.
“Okay,” I say slowly, frowning.
“Apparently he’s been following your career for some time and he’s—”
“I’ve heard that before,” I interrupt, my voice cold.
Is he really trying to tell me that I should sleep with someone in order to get ahead? I’ve had it up to here with men who think they can use their positions of power to take advantage of me.
“Don’t worry about it,” I add, making sure my tone is still friendly, even though I’m seething on the inside.
“I’m used to dealing with men like that.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Matthew says quickly.
“Ethan Dalton probably won’t even remember my name,” I say, my tone dismissive.
Ethan Dalton may be one of the most powerful men in New York, but I refuse to let him get into my head. He’s nothing more than a self-indulgent billionaire who thinks he can have anything he wants because money has always been able to buy him everything he’s ever wanted.
Matthew is quiet for a moment, and then he says, “You might not remember him, but he definitely remembers you.”
I snap the phone shut without saying goodbye and toss it on the bed next to me.
How many times do I have to keep saying no before men like him finally get it? If Ethan Dalton thinks he’s going to be able to buy his way into my bed, he’s got another thing coming.
I’ve worked too hard for this. Nothing—nothing—is going to get in my way.
I roll over and look at my alarm clock. It’s four in the morning. There’s no point in trying to get back to sleep now. I’m too excited.
Chapter Three
The first thought that runs through my head when I step into the studio on Friday morning is that it’s much smaller than I expected.
The second is that it’s freezing cold in here.
“You must be Isabella.” I turn around and see a woman in her late forties with cropped blond hair standing in front of me. She’s wearing an oversized long-sleeved T-shirt and a pair of skinny jeans. She walks quickly over and holds out her hand for me to shake. “I’m Gabriella,” she says.
I smile and nod. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Welcome to our little corner of hell,” Gabriella says as she leads me over to a small space in the corner of the room that has been set up with a screen, a table full of clothes, and another table full of makeup.
I take off my coat and hang it up on one of the few hangers left in the small closet under one of the racks of dresses. The dresses are all beautiful, but none of them are my size. They’re also all made out of sheer silk or other thin materials, which is going to make them even more difficult to wear in this cold environment.
I change into one of the outfits that I’m supposed to wear for the show. It’s made out of thin black lace, and it feels like I’m not wearing anything under it. I shiver as I look at myself in the mirror. My skin is covered in goosebumps, and my nipples have become so hard that they’re clearly visible through the fabric.
“Are you cold?” Gabriella asks when she sees me.
“A little bit,” I admit.
She hands me a large mug filled with steaming hot liquid. “Here. This should help.”
I glance down at it and see that it’s just plain water. There’s no tea bag or anything else floating around in there, but I take a sip anyway, if only because I want something warm in my stomach.
The hot water seems to help, at least a little bit. While I still feel cold, I no longer feel like I’m freezing to death. It doesn’t take away all of my goosebumps, but it takes away some of them, which is good enough for now.
“Thanks,” I say as I take another drink of hot water. “I really needed that.”
“No problem,” she says. “It’ll get warmer once you start moving around. Don’t worry about it. You’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course! You’re Isabella Noire, after all. You’re going to do great out there, no matter what happens.” She smiles and puts her hands on my shoulders. “You’re going to do amazing out there. I just know it.”
“Yeah, I know,” I agree. “I know that I’m going to do great.”
“Now that’s what I like to hear!” Gabriella exclaims with a grin. “That’s what I like to hear!”
Chapter Ten
Isabella
“Is everyone ready?” one of the stagehands asks over his walkie-talkie. “We’ve got about two minutes before we start.”
“Got it!” Gabriella responds as she looks at me in the mirror. “You heard him! Get ready to go out there and show everyone what you’ve got!”
“I will,” I say as I stand up from my chair.
The stagehand comes over to us a moment later and says, “The show’s about to start in thirty seconds. Are you ready?”
“We’re good to go here!” Gabriella responds as she adjusts the straps on my heels.
“All right, then,” the stagehand says as he looks at me. “Good luck.”
“Thank you,” I say as I stand up from the chair and head for the door.
The stagehand opens the door for me, and I head out into the hallway, where the rest of the models are waiting for their turn to go on stage.
As I approach them, they start looking at me with their eyes wide open.
“What?” I ask as I notice their stares.
“Your outfit!” one of them exclaims.
“It’s so…”
“Exposed!” another one says.
“Barely anything is left to the imagination.”
“You’ll freeze to death in that thing.”
“Yeah, but it’ll be worth it if it gets me noticed.” I smile as I look at the first girl who spoke.
“I need to do whatever I can to get noticed around here.”
“That’s true,” she agrees.
“But still, you’re going to be cold in that thing.”
“I’ll be fine.” I shrug.
“I can handle it.”
“Is everyone ready?” Gabriella asks as she approaches us a moment later.
“Are we good to go?”
“We’re good to go here!” one of the other girls responds.
“We’re just waiting on you.”
“All right, then.” Gabriella nods.
“We’re ready to go in here, so let’s get this show on the road!”
Chapter Eleven
Isabella
My heart races as I stand behind the curtain, waiting for my cue to go on stage.
The audience’s murmurs fill the air as the lights come up, signaling that it’s time for me to go out there and show everyone what I’m made of.
As I take a step forward, I hear the music start up, and I smile as I put one foot in front of the other, gently swaying my hips from side to side as I walk across the stage.
All around me, cameras flash and fans scream my name as I make my way down the runway.
I focus on the lights in front of me, smiling at all of the faces that are cheering for me.
It’s an amazing feeling, and I’m grateful for every single person who has supported me along the way, even when I didn’t believe in myself.
I’m just about to finish my walk when I see someone out of the corner of my eye who catches my attention.
He’s standing in the front row, staring back at me with his mouth hanging open in shock.
It’s Ethan, and he looks like he’s just seen a ghost or something.
I don’t know why seeing him makes my heart skip a beat, but it does.
At first, I think it’s because I’m surprised that he’s here, but then I realize that it isn’t just that.
He’s looking at me like I’m some kind of creature that he’s never seen before, and it makes me feel like I’m being hunted or something.
The way his gaze travels up and down my body makes my skin crawl, and I suddenly feel very self-conscious as I finish my walk and head backstage, where everyone else is waiting for their turn to go out on stage.
“You did great,” Gabriella says as she hands me another cup of hot water.
“I told you that you would do great.”
“Thank you,” I say as I take a sip of my drink.
“I think it went well.”
“I think so too,” she agrees.
“Can we talk about what the hell that was?”
“Just ignore him,” another model named Tara says.
“He’s just trying to screw with your head.”
“I don’t think that he was trying to screw with my head,” I tell her, shaking my head.
“I think that he liked what he saw.”
“That’s even worse,” she tells me, rolling her eyes.
“He’s Ethan Dalton, Isabella.
He can have any woman that he wants, and he knows it.
You don’t seriously think that you’re going to be the one to change his mind, do you?”
“I’m not trying to change his mind,” I say, frowning at her.
“I don’t care how rich or powerful that he is.
I’m not interested in being with someone just because they’re rich and powerful.”
“Tell that to the Dalton heir,” she tells me with a snort.
“He’s not used to hearing the word no, Isabella, and he’s not going to be happy until he gets what he wants.
You can believe that all of the rumors are true, too.
He’s a real player, and I heard that he has a different girl in his bed every night of the week.”
“You don’t have to tell me that,” I tell her as the stagehand calls for the next girl.
“I already know what kind of guy that he is.”
I finish my drink and hand the cup back to Gabriella before walking back over to the door, where the other girls are waiting with their hands on their hips, tapping their feet impatiently while they wait for their turn.
“You sure you’re okay?”
Gabriella asks me when she sees the look on my face.
“I’m fine,” I tell her as we wait for our cue to go out on stage again.
