Demyan
"Eli sit down or I'm taking you back to mummy," I yelled at the five year old who was playing through the rack of clothing as a makeup artist did final touch ups to my face. He let out a huff as his sneakers played their tune before we went to sit with Lia down at their tiny little tea party set up. "Good boy," I cheered for him, which made him cutely blush before he took a cupcake and stuffed it into his mouth.
London fashion week was upon us! Which meant my schedule was the busiest it had ever been in months, in fact years. Ever since Malia's attack and Eli's unplanned birth I had not set foot on a runway since I was twenty-five.