My Horny Stepmom Turns Me into Her Vampire Slave

Chapter 213: B - The brightest star

"I’m proud to finally present my very first collection to all of you in its world premiere. For a young designer like me, this is truly a dream come true. I apologize in advance if I seem a little nervous, but believe me, I’ve never been this tense in my life. But enough talking. Please give a warm welcome to our beautiful models. I’m sure they’ll make my beloved creations shine the way they deserve," the young designer announces from the stage.

Oh... so she’s the designer behind that gorgeous blue dress Kimberly is wearing?

She can’t be more than twenty, yet she’s already debuting her first collection in the heart of New York.

This girl is destined for an incredible career. There’s no doubt about it.

By the time the show begins, it’s almost evening, and I have the privilege of watching it from a seat right beside the runway. Kimberly will definitely see me from here. I only managed to get this spot thanks to an unbelievable stroke of luck: one of the journalists canceled at the last minute, and Elenoire managed to get me the seat on the spot.

Tonight I’m wearing one of those ridiculously elegant outfits Elenoire made me buy.

Good thing they forced me to get them, or I would’ve made a complete fool of myself showing up dressed the way I normally do.

Everyone in the room, journalists included, is wearing outrageously expensive clothes.

Everyone except three people.

A small group made up of a young man, a young woman, and an elderly man sitting in the back rows.

They’re impossible to miss.

It’s not that they’re poorly dressed, but even someone as clueless as me can tell those clothes came from some cheap outlet.

Still... I’m pretty disappointed.

Not because of the clothes, obviously, but because of these so-called models—or at least that’s what they dare call themselves.

Walking toothpicks.

No ass, no tits, and faces so gaunt they look like skulls with hair.

If I had to fuck one of them, I’d almost be afraid of hurting her by thrusting too hard.

And yet, all I hear around me is people praising both the outfits and the girls wearing them.

Yeah, right.

If this is what they call beauty...

Well, works for me.

They’re just setting the stage for Kimberly’s grand entrance.

I already know that when it’s her turn, these clueless idiots are going to fall out of their seats, passing out like they’ve been struck by Stendhal syndrome.

These have been, without a doubt, the longest two hours of my life.

Fashion shows are even more boring than I imagined.

I thought the time would fly — I mean, spending two hours watching half-naked girls walk back and forth shouldn’t be so bad... if only there were actually any sexy girls to look at.

And finally, after what feels like an eternity, the moment arrives.

The young designer, visibly nervous but beaming with excitement, returns to the stage to a thunderous round of applause.

"I hope you’ve enjoyed what you’ve seen so far as much as I enjoyed creating it. We’ve finally reached the highlight of my collection, and I wanted to celebrate it with something truly special. When I planned this show, I had one very clear idea in mind: I wanted the centerpiece of my first collection to be worn by someone completely outside the fashion world. I wanted to make it loud and clear that these clothes are for everyone, and that they don’t need professional models to shine. For that, I’d like to thank my dear friend Elenoire for finding the perfect girl for exactly that purpose — the very person I had pictured in my mind while designing this dress. Please give a warm round of applause for the crown jewel of this year’s spring collection, and above all, for the beautiful young woman wearing it: Kimberly Almiris."

Then, the moment the announcement ends, the curtain opens... revealing Kimberly.

Total silence.

Every whisper dies the instant she appears.

It’s obvious no one was expecting someone this beautiful... not even me.

Yeah, weird, isn’t it?

Out of everyone here, I’m the one who’s the most speechless, even though I’d already seen her wearing that dress.

Back at the boutique, Kimberly was simply wearing a dress.

Now it’s different.

Her platinum-blonde hair has been styled to perfection. Her makeup is light but flawless, and blue lipstick colors her full, delicate lips.

The high heels matching her dress make her look even taller and more graceful than she already is.

There’s really only one thing left to say: I’m looking at the most beautiful girl in the world.

Period.

And judging by the reactions around me, the journalists and the audience agree.

Most of the comments I hear are about Kimberly’s beauty rather than the dress itself.

The moment she steps onto the runway, I notice her searching the crowd for me, a hint of anxiety in her eyes.

She relaxes the instant our gazes meet, and I give her a small, encouraging wave.

She nods and smiles, then starts walking beneath a storm of flashing cameras.

Just as I expected, her walk isn’t as graceful or polished as the professional models who came before her. But thanks to her sweet, natural charm, she’s a hundred times better than all of them put together.

I can’t take my eyes off her for even a second.

I’ve been looking forward to seeing Kimberly dressed in something sexy again all day long.

And yet, it’s not her breathtaking breasts or her smooth, toned thighs that have me completely captivated.

It’s her sweet, slightly awkward smile, and the way she’s both happy and excited while trying to hide that whirlwind of emotions behind the usual impassive expression of a professional model.

But then, something goes wrong.

Kimberly reaches the end of the runway.

She’s about to turn around and walk back... when she suddenly freezes.

She’s seen something. Or someone.

Her eyes go wide with terror, her entire body locked in place.

The audience begins to murmur, wondering what’s going on, and I’m the first one who has no idea.

Could it be a sudden panic attack?

That doesn’t make any sense. She was perfectly fine just a moment ago.

I follow her gaze, trying to figure out what could’ve shocked her so badly.

I’m not completely sure, but it looks like she’s staring at those three people dressed far less elegantly than everyone else—the young man, the young woman, and the elderly man sitting in the back rows.

She probably only noticed them now that she’s reached the end of the runway.

And at that exact moment, the elderly man suddenly jumps to his feet and points an accusing finger at her.

I’ve got a really bad feeling about this. Something terrible is about to happen.