𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐥 𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐊𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐳

Family Affair

Jordan POV

I had woken up on the cold floor, by Emily pulling my hair,

"ow, get the fuck off me" I spat at her.

"oh shut up Jordan, You're walking today, so you better cover those up," she said referring to the bruises I had on my body. 

"honestly Emily, what is even your goal? I've literally given you everything you wanted, are you ever going to stop or are you just batshit crazy?" 

Emily didn't answer me, she just laughed at me.

"that's rich coming from the girl thinking she could have it all while being an absolute nobody, you never were Jordan and you never be, but sure, we can pretend that im the crazy one." 

okay, this nutcase really belongs in the nuthouse, like what the actual fuck. 

I felt a strong arm pulling me up to Stand, it was Marcus, and he was taking me back to my room so I could cover up, I felt him sneakily trying to brush off my shirt, so I would fall down my shoulder exposing my chest full, I tried pulling my arm to me, but he grabbed it harder, guided me up the stairs, and when I'm finally in my room they pull off my blindfold.

Bill POV

The minutes dripped by like molasses as we waited for the show to start. Tom, Gustav, Georg, and I were seated anxiously in the front row, our hands clenched and our faces drawn with worry. We had managed to score tickets to Jordan's fashion show, a glimmering stage that was both her spotlight and her prison.

Earlier that day, Tom had taken Jordan's note to the police, relaying every detail he could remember. The gravity of the situation had dawned on us all, the potential danger Jordan was in making our blood run cold. The officers had listened patiently, their expressions solemn. They had thanked Tom for bringing the matter to their attention and promised to look into it. They had also promised to keep us updated. But for now, the best thing we could do was to keep our eyes on Jordan.

I felt a pit form in my stomach as the lights began to dim, signaling the start of the show. As the spotlight swept across the stage, I found myself holding my breath, my heart pounding against my ribs. We needed to see Jordan, needed to know she was okay, and needed to figure out a way to help her.

But my worry was perhaps more acute than the others. I was not just a concerned friend, I was a boyfriend in agony. Jordan wasn't just a partner to me, she was my lifeline, my confidante, my rock. The thought of her in danger, under the mercy of Marcus and Emily, was a nightmare I couldn't shake off.

As the first model strutted onto the runway, I steeled myself for the sight of Jordan. The blinding lights, the applause, the vivacious energy of the event...none of it mattered to us. We were there for one reason, and one reason only: to save our friend, and for me, to save the woman I loved. The world outside our mission ceased to exist as we waited anxiously, our collective gaze fixed on the runway.

The atmosphere was electrifying as the show kicked off, each model adding to the glitz and glamour of the spectacle. Yet, the moment we'd been waiting for was still to come. Our hearts pounded in our chests as we anxiously scanned the faces of the models strutting down the runway.

And then, there she was.

Jordan emerged onto the runway like a phoenix rising from the ashes. She was a vision of confidence and poise, every stride she took exuding an aura of unassailable strength. On the surface, it seemed as if nothing was wrong as if she was just another model walking the runway. But we knew better.