The van hummed gently as it sped along the empty highway, headlights carving through the early morning fog. Lily sat in the back, looking out the window, fingers tapping on her thigh. She had not said a word since they had left the penthouse.
Not that anyone expected her to.
Cameron was there, looking opposite. He opened the sketchbook that he had again and held the pencil. He was making very sharp lines. Fast. Kind of like thoughts couldn't slow down. Chester was in the front seat with the driver, going over a checklist on a tablet. Mouth murmuring reminders to himself: "fabrics ordered, machines prepped, I've also notified the team that we're on our way."
These are the directions towards a still undisclosed fire, Luc's private atelier on the outskirts of the city, hidden and remote.
Lily agreed. Not because she believed he would do anything with her. Not because she trusted him.
But because she wanted control. Control over her image. Her choices. Her outcome.
"Don't worry, Dad. I won't let them hurt or ruin you," said Lily in her mind.
She moved her head just a little to catch a glimpse of Cameron. His brows were furrowed in concentration, but his mouth twitched every time that she looked at him, as if he could feel her eyes on him.
"How far is it?" she finally asked.
Cameron did not look up. "An hour."
She nodded once and then turned away. Then she meant to talk.
"About my studies. I'm graduating this year, and I have a lot of - "
Cameron didn't let her complete the sentence.
"Don't worry about it, I've already talked to someone," he said, and the van reverted into silence.
-Flashback – Yesterday-
"Why am I doing this again?" Alex faithfully muttered, balancing an incredible mass of architectural plate portfolios which obviously belonged to someone else.
Cameron didn't even look up from his tablet. "Because you're excellent at improvising, and she has four plates due by Friday."
Alex moaned, he's almost tripped over the mat outside the doorway of Lily's university building. "I'm the assistant of the president of Rue de Rêve Cam. I studied fashion, fashion Cam! Not, stair load analysis and reinforced beam placement!"
"Sure, you will be fine," Cameron replied dryly. "Just use the words 'sustainable,' 'adaptive reuse,' and 'modular' in any sentence. They eat that stuff up."
He stopped what he was doing on his tablet and looked at Alex in the eyes.
"Consider this your penance for the last time."
Sure enough, in the university, one of Lily's professors catches Alex in the entrance and stares at the rolled blueprints suspiciously, Alex immediately snapped to performance mode.
"Oh! Professor Cromwell! Hello! Just dropping off the adaptive modular spatial development renderings for Lily. She's finalizing some sustainable drainage system at home."
Professor blinked.
"She's... uh... redesigning the roof to be green. Plants. Water retention. Very... Zaha-Hadid-meets-eco-village."
A pause, then a slow nod of approval.
"Tell her I look forward to her defense."
Barely around the corner, before he burst into peals of laughter. "Adaptive modular spatial development renderings? Sustainable drainage system? Zaha Hadid meets eco-village?! What does that even mean?!"
-End of flashback-
Then the van came to slow down, and Cameron reached inside a side compartment and pulled out a case.
Carefully, he opened it.
Inside it was the mask.
Sleek. Sculptural. The iconic Luc mask. A simple vantablack Colombina mask, the mask that hid his identity for five years.
He turned to look at Lily.
"I'm not Cameron in there,"he said simply. "Not to them."
Lily lifted a brow. "Them?"
Before he could even answer, the van stopped.
They've arrived.
The workroom was nothing like she'd imagined.
It was not any of those glitzy industrial lofts where all of the chaos surrounding fashion week was happening. This was actually a repurposed greenhouse. High glass ceilings with rolling iron beams which had become rusty at the edges. Ivy climbing the outside walls. Early light entered above, and it poured down to bathe the whole place in the soft, golden haze.
It felt alive.
As Luc's shoes hit the flooring within, the air changed, but nobody stopped working.
''Unbelievable'' Lily thought.
It buzzed with activity. Inside, about fifty people were working almost full-time on their respective tasks.
Rolls of fabrics moved across the room like rivers. Some workers walked briskly, balancing heavy rolls of fabrics on their shoulders.
Some were hunched over their sketchpads, drawing new silhouettes. Seamstresses were shuttled to industrial sewing machines, stitching very carefully. One team was trying out fabric textures under the warm light of the ceiling lamps, while another was selecting accessories on a cork board with ribbons, shades of lace pinned up to it.
Every group had its own corner. Own goal. Every one was building a different collection. Some seasonal. Some experimental. Some conceptual.
Luc stood for a moment in the doorway watching.
And he loved what he saw.
Movement. Focus. Creation.
No one looked up when he entered. It wasn't out of disrespect; neither would it be displeasing to him.
This place he built to run like the heartbeat, not like a parade.
He started moving slowly through the greenhouse.
One team was developing a high-concept gown. "Try a square neckline here instead of the plunge," Luc suggested, pointing toward the sketch. "It'll balance the flare of the skirt."
They nodded without breaking rhythm.
Another seamstress happened to glance at him while he passed. "Luc, do you think for underlay, oyster pink or bone white?"
He stopped and observed the fabric. "Neither; use black, it'll photograph better under golden light."
She smiled and made the switch instantly.
He went next to the pattern station where three designers worked with mannequin drapes.
"You need more movement at the hem,"he said. "Use georgette instead of taffeta."
"Yes, sir,"they replied as they went right back to work.
To him, Luc was much beyond boss; he was more of a lifesaver.
Every single one of them here had once been fired or forgotten. Luc found them at their lowest point. He gave them a new dimension, a second chance, and they returned that with loyalty.
They did not know who he was behind that mask.
They did not ask. Respect came to him, for he led with precision, purpose, and care.
Lily followed silently, taking all in within.
She had never witnessed something like this.
Not just the work, but how they trusted him. How he didn't raise his voice. How he listened. How he offered solutions in respect and clarity, not ego.
He made quick decisions. But never hasty.
Luc did not only lead; he guided.
And while watching something in her changed.
By early afternoon, prototype gowns were already taking shape on mannequins.
One features a sleek black base over which flowing layers of sheer violet fabric create a soft wave-like appeal. A large petal-shaped bow frames the chest and shoulders, adding to the dress a sculptural flower-like detail. The ruffled layers are tightly edged for shape and movement, rendering the gown a buoyant quality possible of floating.
The Second one was a sculpted red bodice drenched in gold embroidery and intricate hands-stitched florals, a piece that screams royalty. The off-shoulder silhouette transitions to sheer sapphire chiffon sleeves, ethereal yet commanding in effect, catching the light with every movement. The skirt embraces duality, with crimson and translucent cobalt panels flowing like regal banners. Every accent of gold has been painstakingly placed like jewelry for the fabric, bringing balance between ostentation and elegance.
And the last one, was the best one, luminous, otherworldly design capturing in its folds the elegance of starlight in motion. Crafted through a body-hugging silhouette, this dress is totally encrusted in fine crystal beading that cascades in vertical lines, mimicking a starry night sky in motion. A meticulously crafted delicate, shimmering hooded cape drapes over the gown-like muzzle surrounding the silvery figure in a glow sphere of refracted light and celestial sparkle. The high neckline and full-length veil bring the mysteries of majesty to bear with the peculiar aura of a celestial priestess.
Each piece whispered genius. Every corner of the greenhouse was alive with color, motion, and creation.
Luc stood at the center of it all.
Mask on. Hands behind his back. Watching.
And for the first time that day, he allowed himself a small smile beneath the mask.
This is his kingdom.
And it thrived.