Chapter 19. A Male Model

Camila flung the competition guidelines onto her desk, the crisp paper landing beside a sketchpad littered with half-formed ideas and abandoned doodles. She pressed her palms against the cool surface of the mahogany, leaning forward with a frustrated sigh that seemed to echo across the spacious, sun-dappled office.

“Find a male model,” she muttered to herself, her voice dripping with irony. “As if I could just conjure one up from the depths of my non-existent social circle.”

The room was quiet, save for the distant hum of traffic and the faint whisper of the city beyond the tall glass windows. In the solitude, the walls seemed to inch closer, each one a silent reminder of Blake’s betrayal, each shadow a ghost of memories she no longer wished to carry.

“Blake Ward, you pretentious jerk,” she hissed, her voice rising as she picked up a pencil and twirled it ang