The Tux FittingThe tailor's shop was hushed, smelling faintly of fine wool and clean linen. It was a place where clothes weren't just made; they were crafted for destiny. The walls were lined with bolts of fabric that cost more than my first car, and the lighting was soft, designed to flatter every line. I stood on a small, elevated platform in front of a three-sided mirror, the final touches being made to the custom tuxedo I would wear to the engagement party tonight.My father was seated on a plush velvet chair in the corner, holding a cup of espresso and reviewing a small notepad. He wasn't watching the tailoring; he was watching me, ensuring my demeanor was as flawless as the stitching.“The shoulder line must be absolutely clean, Mr. Hayes,” the tailor, a nervous, precise man named Antoine, murmured, circling me with a handful of pins. “A single, elegant sweep. Nothing less is acceptable for the heir. Hold the chin slightly higher, please, Killian.”I forced my head up, but the
最終更新日 : 2026-01-01 続きを読む