Page 54 of Mistaken Prejudice

A gorgeous hotel in the heart of the city hosted the Ranieri show for tonight. Baroque-painted hallways surrounded us as we took our seats in the front row, right in front of the catwalk. Earlier this evening, Daniel joined us, and now we all sat together as we waited for the show to begin.

It was a breathtaking scene: dazzling chandeliers, impressive marble sculptures, marvelous paintings framed with gold, and a wooden floor that reflected the glittering lights. Until this weekend, I never gave much thought to fashion. It was all just clothes, nothing more, nothing less. Those three days I spent with Miles changed my perspective on the subject; tonight was the grand finale. The crème de la crème of self-expression and art.

My eyes scanned the room and its guests: famous actors, singers, and athletes. I was shocked I was in the same space as them. I was even more shocked that I didn’t feel out of character here. I felt good in the outfit Miles picked for me, and I was comfortable with him sitting beside me.

When Miles came downstairs earlier tonight, dressed in a mint-colored vintage suit with this deep cut that showed his smooth chest, I was blown away. He looked elegant yet trendy with a pair of leather loafers that made him look neat. I also loved the idea of his chest being covered with nothing but a suit jacket. Shirts were so overrated.

While he wore mint, I got to wear silky black slacks and a see-through mesh shirt that clutched my muscles perfectly. Miles also insisted on a pearl necklace to go with the pearl piercing he bought me. Yes. I had a real fucking pearl on my right nipple. Frankly, I went along with anything he wanted because it made him smile, and his joy quickly became my drug.

The light went off, and the room went into complete darkness. A few minutes passed before I wondered if it was part of the show or a technical issue. I leaned toward Miles to ask if that was the case, when the start of the catwalk was lit and two figures appeared at the center of the light. The moment the music started playing, one of the models started walking.

Elliot’s steps were perfectly timed with the music, like choreography, and I was in awe of his performance. His friendly, sweet aura had shifted into this god mode, and watching him was intoxicating. The thin fabric of his outfit covered him to perfection and suited every sharp angle of his flawless figure. The light, the sound, and the control of his steps and breath turned this moment into a show. Despite the music, I could hear people gasping and whispering as he passed by us. Yet, no matter how mesmerizing Elliot was, and he was, I was more curious to see Miles’s face at this moment. I took my eyes off the runway to find Miles’s gaze fixed on his dad with admiration. He looked so beautiful, authentic, and genuine right now that my heart missed a beat. I wished he’d take his eyes off the runway and look at me, just one look.

As if he could hear my thought, Miles did exactly that, and our eyes met for a split second before we both looked in time to see the second figure walking.

The other model who followed Elliot looked a lot like him, and it took me a moment before I understood who he was. Aloïs, Elliot’s younger brother and Miles’s uncle.

By the crowd’s reaction, I wasn’t the only one excited by the appearance of the famous movie star.

Aloïs met Elliot at the end of the runway before the two started making their way back, steps matching as they passed us. Seeing the two brothers walk together was a badass moment, especially with how fierce they looked. I stretched my neck until I could no longer watch them, and I was forced to look at the other models who took their places.

The next half hour flew by, with the magnificent outfits and Miles whispering all sorts of facts and comments in my ear. I wasn’t surprised he knew a lot about the industry, but it was still impressive.

After all of the models returned to the runway and did another spin, the light turned off again. When they returned, Elliot and Aloïs appeared again, with a petite man standing between them. As they started to walk together toward the center of the stage, the audience began to cheer and clap. By the time the three reached the center of the catwalk, the whole room was on their feet, cheering them.

The man between the two brothers was short, around five-three, with naturally tan skin and platinum hair. It was impossible to tell his age considering how smooth and clean his features were. When he glanced our way, I noticed his unique eyes. One was blue, while the other was dark as obsidian.

“That’s Vito Ranieri,” Miles said while clapping and cheering. “He’s the designer and owner of the brand.”

Soon after the show ended, we rode to a different hotel where the after-party was held. All the models, including the famous faces who attended the show, filled the decorated space. Champagne flowed freely, and thanks to France’s legal drinking age, Miles and I treated ourselves to one too many glasses.

Around an hour into the party, Elliot, along with Vito and his brother Aloïs, joined the rest of the guests. Miles and Daniel didn’t wait a second before they rushed to greet Elliot, whose whole face lit up as soon as he saw them.

“Oh, mon amour.” Elliot sighed in relief before wrapping his arms around Daniel and kissing him passionately. “I’m so happy you came.” His attention quickly turned to his son and his arms moved to hug Miles as he mumbled something to him in French. They exchanged a few words, and I could only assume Miles praised him with compliments by the blush on Elliot’s cheeks.

“Oh, Andrei!” he said as his eyes landed on me. “What a beautiful outfit!” He gave me a lopsided grin from afar. Considering the event, it was rather comical for him to flatter my clothes.

“You were amazing, Elliot, truly. Thank you so much for inviting me.” I tried my best not to sound awkward because what are you supposed to say to a supermodel who was also your boyfriend’s dad? Let alone the fact that right beside him was Vito, the designer, and Aloïs, his superstar brother.

“It is very sweet of you, Andrei.” He beamed before returning to his conversation with Miles. It was amazing how they managed to remain domestic and loving while surrounded by such luxury. Even though I hated to admit it, I myself sometimes believed the stereotype of rich people. Thinking they were cold and heartless humans who only cared for their money and status. So far, Miles and his family were anything but. The way Elliot looked at his family made it more than clear that he cared about them a lot more than the fame, the glam, or the money that came with it.

“Who’s that treasure?” someone questioned, and I looked over my shoulder to see who they were talking about before I understood it was Vito asking about me. My eyes snapped back to the Italian designer. Diamonds jingled around his neck and decorated the sunglasses he wore that matched his black suit. Before I could open my mouth to answer, Vito lifted his hand in the air and snapped his fingers at the tall, handsome guy who stood behind him. “Francesco, Caro, please bring me something to drink. I’ll need it to get through tonight.” The man, Francesco, was about to move when Vito grabbed his hand in a sharp move. “And don’t forget to bring one for yourself.” He winked at him before he released his grip and let out a rich laugh that made his accent even more noticeable.

“So you are?” His attention was again on me as he gave me a once-over. “How did I not see you before? Are you a model? An athlete? Oh, don’t tell me… an actor?” Wow. The man spoke fast. Too fast.

“Oh, non, non,” Elliot quickly said. “This is Andrei, Miles’s boyfriend.”

“Oh, cazzo,” he purred. “He is taken. But you know what they say, a boyfriend is not a wall.”

“He is eighteen, Vito.” Elliot laughed while Vito’s face curved in displeasure.

“You should have started with it. Come talk to me when you are twenty-one, Bello.” By now, Francesco, who looked twenty-one himself, returned with their drinks.

“How many times have I told you that a fashion show is not a place for kids? When will you learn, Elliot?” It was Aloïs who spoke, with his eyes set on his brother. Unlike Vito’s teasing voice, there was nothing pleasant about Aloïs’s. His words were sharp and biting.

In contrast to his brother, Aloïs had no trace of an accent. One could never tell he was born and raised in France by how fluent his English was. I now understood why Elliot felt self-conscious about his struggle with the language. Not that he needed to be.

Impatience was written on Aloïs’s sharp face and despite the bitterness under his fake smile, there was no arguing with his extraordinary look. He wasn’t as beautiful as Miles and Elliot, but with his wavy black hair, pale skin, high cheekbones, and piercing blue eyes, Aloïs was astonishing. His lips weren’t as pouty, which made him look more masculine in comparison to his brother. He was more rugged and defined.