The silk didn’t crease beneath Seraphine’s fingers. She kept her hand there a moment longer than necessary, smoothing the fabric with quiet precision, as though the simple act required more care than it did. Something had shifted, subtle and unfamiliar, and for a fleeting second it lingered in her expression before disappearing beneath the calm composure she wore so effortlessly.“The sleeve,” she said, her voice even, controlled. “You were saying.”The consultant blinked, momentarily thrown off, then hurriedly continued, pointing at the structure of the garment. Seraphine listened, nodded, adjusted a detail here and there but her mind had already moved elsewhere.Mr. Laurent doesn’t ask twice.That thought stayed with her long after she left the atelier.Night settled over the city like a quiet secret.Seraphine stood before her mirror, no longer dressed in silk or statement pieces, but in something far simpler. Black. Clean. Functional. Her hair was pulled back tightly, her face str
Last Updated : 2026-04-25 Read more