LOGINThe day had started with such promise.Crystal woke at 5 AM, the Paris dawn painting her hotel room in shades of gold and rose. She lay in bed for a moment, listening to the city wake up, and allowed herself a rare moment of quiet pride.Tonight, she thought. Tonight, the world sees what we built. Months of work. Hundreds of sketches. Thousands of hours of labor. And now, in just fifteen hours, it would finally breathe.By 8 AM, she was at the Palais Garnier.The backstage area hummed with controlled energy. Models stretched in silk robes. Dressmakers made last-minute adjustments. Elodie ran between fitting rooms with a clipboard and a headset.Crystal walked through it all like a general surveying her troops."Status?" she asked.Elodie beamed. "Everything is perfect. The lighting team is doing a final check now. We're ahead of schedule."Crystal allowed herself a small smile. "Let's keep it that way."At 10 AM, the power flickered.Just once. A brief stutter that made the LED lights
The Paris atelier was a disaster zone.Crystal walked through the double doors and stopped cold. Bolts of ruined silk lay scattered across the cutting tables like casualties of war. The fabric—pale gold, blush pink, midnight blue—was stained and discolored, the chemical spill having bled through the protective wrap like poison through skin.Her head designer, a petite Frenchwoman named Elodie, rushed toward her, wringing her hands."Ms. Laurent, I am so sorry. The warehouse shipped the wrong batch. By the time we realized, the contamination had already spread. Every piece for the show—everything—it's all destroyed."Crystal closed her eyes.One week, she thought. One week until the show."Show me what's left."Elodie led her through the wreckage. The samples. The backup fabric. The emergency reserves. All ruined. Every single bolt.Crystal's chest tightened. But she didn't panic."Get me the list of every fabric supplier within two hundred kilometers. Anyone who carries silk in these
The call came at 5:47 AM.Crystal was already awake, watching the sunrise from her balcony—her ritual, the one thing no one could take from her. But the voice on the other end shattered the peace."Ms. Laurent, it's the Paris atelier. The shipment of silk for the show—it's been contaminated. Some kind of chemical spill at the warehouse. The entire collection is compromised. We have nothing to show on Friday."Crystal was already moving."Schedule the earliest flight. I'll handle it from the air."Her assistant hesitated. "Ms. Laurent... all our private jets are grounded. Mandatory safety upgrades. The FAA inspection is tomorrow. There's nothing we can do."Crystal closed her eyes. "Then book me first class on the earliest commercial flight to Paris. I don't care which airline.""Already done. Air France, 9 AM. Seat 2A."An hour later, she was in the back of a town car, her head full of sketches and solutions.She didn't ask who else might be on that flight.She should have.The first-
The ballroom of the Laurent Fashion headquarters had been converted into a conference hall. Rows of chairs faced a stage with a podium and a massive screen. Every major investor in the European expansion was present—hedge fund managers, venture capitalists, representatives from private wealth firms.Crystal stood backstage with her parents, reviewing her notes., surrounded by her senior executives. Luc Moreau was there, still bitter, still watching her with narrowed eyes. Monique was there, now fiercely loyal. "The European expansion is our biggest initiative in a decade," Adrian said, his voice grave. "We've opened up forty percent of the company's shares to public investors to fund the new Paris atelier and the Milan flagship."The numbers flashed on the screen. Crystal had reviewed them a hundred times. The Laurent family still held 60% of the shares—controlling interest. The remaining 40% had been sold to a patchwork of institutional investors, private equity firms, and wealthy in
Crystal watched the sunrise from her bedroom window.The rain had stopped sometime before dawn, leaving the world washed clean and glistening. And there, on her doorstep, sat a small bundle of yellow tulips tied with a cream ribbon.She hadn't seen him leave. Sometime between 3 AM and 5 AM, Ethan Vale had finally retreated—his car gone, his shadow vanished from the gate. But he hadn't gone empty-handed. He had left a piece of himself behind, bright and yellow and stubborn.She walked downstairs in her robe, barefoot. The marble floors were cold against her soles, but she barely noticed. The maid had already brought the flowers inside and set them on the kitchen counter.Crystal picked up the note.Day one of the rest of my life.— EHer throat tightened.Day one.She stared at the tulips, their petals still wet from the rain, their stems tied with a ribbon. Did he really think he could just start over? Did he really believe that flowers and rain-soaked vigils could erase a year of si
Crystal’s POVFor an entire week, She played a game of shadows, watching him on the security feed, sitting in her lobby like a man waiting for a verdict. Every night, She would slipped out the back, leaving him to wait for a woman who no longer existed.She thought he would get the hint. She thought the "Ice King" would realize his time was worth more than a closed door.He'll give up eventually, she told herselfWell She was wrong.Ethan Vale never gives upAs her SUV approached the towering wrought-iron gates of the Laurent Estate, a figure stepped directly into the path of the vehicle."What the heck!" She exclaimed, lunging forward as the driver slammed on the brakes.There he was. Ethan stood bathed in the amber glow of the streetlights. He looked devastatingly handsome, but there was a raw, jagged edge to him I’d never seen. His suit was wrinkled, his hair windblown, and his eyes... they were fixed on the windshield as if he could see her soul through the tinted glass."I know y







