GINERVA'S POV 
The backstage area was a chaotic rush of models, designers, and makeup artists. The air was thick with the scent of hairspray, makeup, and the aromatic spices of a nerves-induced adrenaline rush. All of those scents made me want to throw up. Among the storm of activity, I stood like an island amid a tempest, my fingers tracing the rouge fabric of my dress. 
I still found the design audacious, the neckline was plunging, and the cut of the skirt revealed far more leg than I was comfortable with. The worst part of everything was the backless nature of the dress. Despite how many times Lydia had said that fashion was never about comfort, I wasn't comfortable with the idea of parading myself almost naked in front of more than a hundred people.
Lydia, dressed immaculately in a champagne gold dress, one of her designs, walked over to me. Her eyes were a warm brown, a contrast to her platinum hair. She looked at me, her eyes taking in the nervousness that radiated off of me.
"Ginny," Lydia's voice was a soothing balm, "You look amazing. Will you stop acting like an animal heading to the slaughterhouse?"
I found her statement funny, but I could only grimace. "I feel like I'm about to bare my soul to the world. I can feel so many male models staring at me already, talk less of when I finally walk down the runway."
Lydia chuckled, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Isn't that what fashion is about? Baring one's soul? You are gorgeous, Jenna did a great job with the makeup and accessories."
Before I could reply, a voice echoed across the backstage, "Ginerva Gallo, you're up next!"
The lights dimmed, and the music took on a hypnotic beat. "You can do it, Ginny. Remember you just have to catwalk like you usually do and focus on the most comfortable face you see. Swing your hips seductively to emphasize the beauty of the dress. By the time you come back here, I'll be ready to walk down the runway with you."
"Alright," I took a deep breath and stepped onto the runway. Each step was measured, and each pose was calculated. The crowd was a sea of faces, all watching me. I could hear their gasps and whispered voices, but I focused on the end of the runway. I tried my best not to search for my father's face in the crowd. I didn't want to know what he thought about my seductive dress. The applause was thunderous as I made my way back, the red dress moving like a flame around me.
As the final model to walk, Lydia joined me on the runway. Together, we walked the final stretch, the applause reaching a crescendo. The audience was not just clapping, but cheering, their faces alight with excitement and fascination. I could feel the energy, the sheer magnetism of their attention. It was almost difficult for me to believe they were cheering me on.
"You did amazing," Lydia complimented.
"If I did so, then it's all because your dress was beautiful," I told her, smiling.
Some other models and designers complimented Ginerva and Lydia. "I can't believe everyone is so impressed by the red dress. This is so great," I told Lydia.
"Thanks for helping out."
"I'll just go change and join the party. My Dad might want to talk to me," I told her.
I got into the changing room and slipped into a more comfortable red dinner dress, it was also another design from Lydia's collection. She wanted everyone to see her work and I was glad to help out. Though it wasn't as revealing as the previous one, it still revealed a tantalizing hint of my cleavage as well as clung to every curve of mine.
I looked at my reflection in the mirror, appreciating how exotic I looked. I joined the post-show party, which was a whirlwind of congratulations and discussions.
The fashion event was organized by Masterson Bank in a bid to attract more customers to the bank.
As I navigated my way through the hall, I forced a smile, acknowledging every compliment I was given. Some of the male guests did their best to get my contact details, but I had zero interest in them. I could see their gazes were solely fixed on my body and not my face. 
As I turned to respond to another compliment, I froze. There he was with my father - the man from the car. The man who had almost run me over earlier that day and had given me a condescending look. My father seemed eager to please him, he was doing a lot of talking while the man stayed quiet, watching him with disinterest. 
He was tall, and incredibly handsome, a fact which I hated to admit. His dark eyes were piercing and he wore an impeccably tailored suit that matched his arrogant aura. His black hair was styled perfectly, causing him to appear as though he had walked out straight from a magazine.
I felt a surge of emotion run through me when finally my father turned around and spotted me. He called out my name, signaling for me to join them at their table. The man turned around, staring fixedly at me as though he could see right through me. The memory of his condescending look was still fresh in my mind. I took a deep breath, straightened my back, and walked over to them. The party continued around us, a swirl of laughter and music, but to me, it was as if we were the only two people in the room.
As I approached them, the man's eyes widened. I couldn't fathom what his expression meant, but for a moment, I saw a flicker of surprise. I took a deep breath, steadying myself as I walked up to my father. My heart pounded in her chest, a mix of determination and nervous anticipation. I wasn't even sure why I was feeling that nervous.
"Dad," I said in greeting, my voice carrying a mix of poise and assertiveness as I spoke, my gaze steady and unwavering. "You were amazing tonight. Lydia is such a fantastic designer, you look so great," Dad said.
Dad seemed much more like his usual self, a huge smile playing on his thin lips as compared to how he had been acting for a while now. He was dressed in a tuxedo, a man of average height in his late fifties.
The man's eyebrows furrowed, his gaze shifting from my father's to mine.
"Thanks, you also look great, Dad."
"Mr Masterson, this is Ginerva Gallo, my only child. She is an artist, who just graduated recently. Ginerva, this is Mr Abel Masterson, CEO of Masterson Bank," Dad introduced.
I nodded, acknowledging his stare with a polite inclination of my head. "Good evening, Sir," I greeted awkwardly. So his name is Abel, such a decent name for someone like him.
I could sense his curiosity as he studied me, his eyes lingering on the vibrant red dress that accentuated my beauty. I refused to let his gaze intimidate me. Instead, I exhibited confidence, reveling in the power I now exuded.
"I must admit," Abel continued, his tone shifting to a more genuine sincerity, "I didn't expect that you would have such beauty for a daughter. It's a shame she is artistically inclined and not businesses inclined like you are. You... you were incredible on the runway," he finished facing me.
A frown almost made its way to my face, but I forced a smile at the corners of my lips. I wasn't sure what he meant, did he think I was wasting my time being an artist?
"Thank you. I'm glad you enjoyed the show," I said.
"Your father is indeed very brilliant and that's why he is the new manager of Masterson Bank. You must be proud of him," Abel said.
"Congratulations Dad," I said, hugging him. "Of course I am proud. Thanks for giving my father this opportunity."
"He merited it, I do hope he doesn't disappoint me. I make a terrible enemy, you see," Abel smirked, giving me a once over.
I felt so uncomfortable with his looks and my Dad made it worse by saying, "If you will excuse me, Sir. I need to discuss something important with some executives. You can talk with my daughter, she makes great company."
Dad hurriedly left the table, leaving me standing alone in front of Abel Masterson. I looked around us, noticing several people watching us.
"Seeing that you look like an exquisite work of art, what kind of art are you into, Ginerva?" He said, rolling my name on his tongue in a seductive manner.
Was he flirting with me? I couldn't tell, but then
his eyes kept straying to my breasts. I immediately hated wearing the dress.