Chapter 159: Owning the runway

"It matters because it seems I’m starting to like you." Sienna blurted.

Tom could not reply immediately.

He stayed quiet, and Sienna kept looking at him as if the answer might still come if she waited long enough.

When it did not, her expression hardened. In her mind, the silence was already a full reply. He had stopped liking her. Whatever feeling used to be there had dried out, and she had embarrassed herself by speaking as if it still mattered.

"Forget this conversation ever happened. Forget it." she said firmly. Then she walked into her room.

She shut the door shut very hard that Tom heard it from the living room and he flinched slightly.

Inside her room, Sienna flung her bag aside and stood there breathing too fast, with anger and shame locked together in her chest. She could still hear her own words in the living room.

Why would she say that? Why would she hand him something that soft after everything? She clenched her fists and muttered under her breath, furious with herself, wishing she could tear the confession back out of the air and crush it. She went into the bathroom still wound tight, needing distance from her own mouth more than from him.

"Oh, fuck me!" She gritted.

Meanwhile, Tom later moved after standing for a second longer. He got the cold water he had come for and returned to his room.

He sat on the edge of the bed with the glass in his hand and tried to understand his own reaction. A month ago, those were the words he would have wanted from Sienna. He had lived under her roof wanting some sign that he was more than a convenient arrangement. Now that she had finally said she was starting to like him, his chest had remained strangely still. No rush of adrenaline, no relief, no sharp old hunger rising to meet her.... Absolutely nothing.

He blinked. He did not understand it completely.

Then he thought maybe it was because he had a lot on his hands and in head at the moment. Adrian still wanted him damaged or dead. Work had already turned into open sabotage. The club needed building. His days were filling faster than his feelings could rearrange themselves. He drew in a deep breath and set the thought aside for the night.

First things first; The exhibition was only a few hours away. And that was what he would handle first.

He drank the water and went back to bed.

~~~~~~~~~

Morning came quickly.

Bree arrived at exactly 6:00 a.m.

Sienna was home, but she did not leave her room. From the window, she saw Bree arrive and walk in with the same usual certainty as always. Sienna stayed where she was, silent, her eyes holding every of the emotions running around in her chest.

Bree went straight to Tom’s door and knocked.

"Enter," Tom said. He was only just waking up.

Bree stepped in, they exchanged Curt pleasantries and after assessing him, she moved to the wardrobe and selected an outfit she deemed was cool and suitable for an early call time. She did not linger for conversation.

"I’ll be outside." she told him, wanting to leave him to get ready.

"Those are the car keys on the table. I got a new car." Tom informed her, gesturing at the car keys before disappearing into the bathroom.

Bree grabbed them and walked out.

While in the bathroom, as Tom bathed, the System opened;

```

[MAIN MISSION COMPLETE]

Follow Stella and keep her happy.

[REWARD RECEIVED]

Significant increase in Stella’s Affection, Stability, and Loyalty

```

Her maintenance panel updated in full.

```

[STELLA MARCHETTI — RELATIONSHIP]

Loyalty: 58%

Affection: 61%

Stability: 55%

```

Tom read the numbers and felt satisfied. The day with her had mattered. The System then added that there would be no daily task, the same support it had given before when his schedule was too heavy for minor obligations.

He bathed quickly, dressed, and left with Bree.

~~~~~~~~~

They arrived at L×L early. Around 7:02AM.

James met them near the preparation area, his eyes immediately dropping to Tom’s wrapped foot. "How is it?"

"Manageable," Tom said.

James still looked concerned, but there was no time for a long medical discussion. The exhibition had to happen. He put Tom through a short, focused warm-up, watching his movement carefully. Tom kept the wrap on and walked well enough that James shook his head in quiet disbelief.

"Only God knows how much pain you’re enduring," he muttered, sounding appreciative.

Because of the wrap, they adjusted the presentation. Tom would walk in sneakers with the boxer-and-singlet training base adapted for the show’s lower segment rather than a full formal shoe look. It was not ideal, but it was workable, and workable was all James needed.

By the time the hall filled, the pressure in the building had changed.

The exhibition floor was brightly arranged, and packed with the kind of audience L×L wanted for a tenth-anniversary showing: buyers, brand partners, selected media, stylists, and people who mattered enough to be invited into a room where image turned directly into money. Rows of seats faced the runway. Cameras were already in place. Conversation moved in low waves until the lights shifted and the space settled into expectation.

Tom stood backstage with Lahey and felt nervousness wrapping around him like the wrap on his foot.

There were more people than he had mentally prepared for. For a brief moment, he nursed the nervousness. Then he remembered the path that had brought him here and the fact that the men who tried to cut him out were the ones missing from this lineup. He straightened up...

When his turn came, he stepped out.

The runway stretched ahead and every mark and pace from training suddenly practical instead of abstract. Runway Imprint held the sequence steady in his body. He walked with control. The crowd became sound rather than pressure. He hit his points, turned, and completed the walk without letting the size of the audience pull him out of the movement.

Applause followed him off the runway.

It was not empty politeness. It was solid enough to feel. At the backstage, the noise of the room echoed through the walls, and Tom felt the satisfaction of having taken the place they tried to deny him.

He was pleased with himself.