Celine adjusted her position on the veranda chair, laptop balanced on her thighs, the morning breeze brushing lightly against her skin. Her eyes stayed fixed on the design glowing on her screen, clean lines, soft structure, elegant…
But safe.
Her phone buzzed against the table.
She glanced at it. Stacy.
Celine exhaled, then tapped to accept the video call.
Stacy's face filled the screen immediately, background noisy, voices, movement, racks of clothing behind her. She looked slightly flushed, like she'd been moving nonstop.
"Celine," she started, not even greeting properly, "we've got competition."
Celine's brows drew together slightly, her posture straightening. "We always have competition," she said calmly. "What's different?"
Stacy hesitated for a second, then turned her camera, briefly showing a display, mannequins dressed in structured, pastel-toned pieces with bold cuts.
"They just launched their Easter line preview," Stacy said, turning the camera back to herself. "Maison Vérité."
Celine's fingers stilled on her laptop. She knew the name. Established. Expensive. Ruthless with trends.
"And?" Celine asked, her tone still even, but her eyes sharper now.
Stacy exhaled. "Honestly… they're good."
Silence stretched for a second.
Celine didn't react immediately, but her gaze flicked back to her own design.
Stacy continued, more carefully now. "They're doing pastels, but not the usual soft, predictable ones. Structured silhouettes, asymmetry… bold cuts. It's still wearable, but it stands out."
Celine leaned back slowly, processing.
"Buyers are already crowding their section," Stacy added. "And I overheard someone say it's the 'freshest Easter drop' they've seen this season."
That made Celine's jaw tighten slightly.
She looked back at her sketch again, beautiful, refined… but suddenly it felt like it was blending in.
"Show me the fabric," Celine said.
Stacy held up a sample closer to the camera. "Silk blend. Lightweight, but it holds structure. And they're mixing textures, matte with gloss. It catches light differently depending on movement."
Celine's mind started working instantly, gears turning.
"They're playing with contrast," she murmured.
"Exactly," Stacy said, nodding quickly. "And it's working."
Celine went quiet for a moment, staring at her design. Then, without hesitation, she reached forward and deleted a portion of it.
Stacy blinked. "Wait—what are you doing?"
"It's too safe," Celine said simply. "This won't stand next to theirs."
There was no panic in her voice, just clarity.
Stacy studied her for a moment, then a small smile crept onto her lips. "There she is," she said softly. "I was wondering when you'd say that."
Celine didn't look up. She was already sketching again, faster now. Sharper lines. Bolder structure.
"If they went structured pastels…" she muttered, half to herself, "then we break the expectation completely."
Stacy tilted her head. "How?"
Celine's lips curved slightly, a spark of excitement flickering in her eyes. "We give them Easter… but not the version they're expecting."
Stacy's grin widened. "Now that sounds like you."
There was a pause before Stacy squinted at her again. "Also… why do you look like you didn't sleep?"
Celine froze for half a second.
"I slept," she said quickly.
"Mhm," Stacy hummed knowingly. "You're glowing."
Celine rolled her eyes, but a faint blush crept up her neck. "Focus, Stacy."
"I am focused," Stacy shot back, smirking. "On the fact that my boss is smiling at her screen like she's in love."
Celine ignored that completely, though her fingers paused for just a second.
Her gaze drifted, just briefly, through the glass doors behind her.
Inside, August moved around casually, and something about the normalcy of it, the warmth of the morning, settled in her chest.
She quickly looked back at her screen.
"We don't have time to play safe," she said, voice firm now. "Get me more fabric options. Not just silk, anything unconventional. I want texture, movement… something that forces attention."
Stacy straightened immediately. "Done. I'll send options within the hour."
"And Stacy?"
"Yeah?"
Celine's eyes sharpened, confidence settling fully into place.
"We're not just competing with Maison Vérité," she said. "We're outdoing them."
Stacy smiled, impressed. "That's my boss."
The call ended.
Celine stared at her screen, her new design already taking shape.
She was still adjusting a neckline when a shadow stretched across her laptop.
Then,
"Celine…"
She frowned slightly, still focused. "Hmm?"
August leaned in from the glass doors, stretching his head into the veranda, hair slightly messy, a lazy smile on his lips.
"What time should we leave for the station?" he asked.
Celine blinked.
Then her eyes widened.
"Oh—right." She exhaled, running a hand through her hair. "Give me some minutes."
August nodded, stepping fully into the veranda. "Take your time," he said softly, then reached out and pinched her cheeks lightly.
Celine swatted his hand away, already flustered.
From inside, Julian made a loud gagging sound. "Ugh. Disgusting."
Celine didn't even turn, she simply raised her hand and flipped him off behind her.
Julian scoffed. "Wow. Violent."
August chuckled, shaking his head as he leaned back against the doorframe, clearly entertained. "You're just jealous."
"Of that?" Julian shot back, pointing between them. "Please."
Celine rolled her eyes, grabbing her laptop and closing it carefully this time. "Both of you are annoying," she muttered, though the small smile on her lips gave her away.
"Five minutes," she added, already heading inside.
August watched her go, that same soft look settling on his face again.
Julian noticed and smirked. "Yeah… you're gone."
August didn't even bother denying it.
A few minutes later, Celine came rushing back, now dressed in a fitted jean trouser and a simple T-shirt, her hair hastily gathered, except for the comb still sitting awkwardly in it like it had been forgotten mid-rush.
August's lips twitched the moment he saw her. Then he chuckled.
Celine frowned slightly. "What?"
He stepped closer, shaking his head. "Hold still."
Before she could react, his hand lifted gently to her hair, fingers brushing lightly as he pulled the comb free.
Celine froze for a second, then blinked. "Oh."
August held it up with a small grin.
Her cheeks flushed immediately. "Thanks," she muttered, a little embarrassed.
Julian groaned loudly from the side. "Guys, we need to leave before I catch whatever is in the air."
Celine rolled her eyes, grabbing her bag. "You're so dramatic."
"Am I?" Julian shot back, already heading toward the door.
August just chuckled, tossing the comb onto the table before reaching for his keys.
"Come on," he said, glancing at Celine.
She nodded, falling into step beside him as the three of them headed out together, bickering, teasing.
The door shut behind them with a soft click as they stepped out into the late morning air.
Julian was already ahead, stretching lazily as they walked toward the car. "I call shotgun," he said, quickening his pace.
"Of course you do," Celine muttered under her breath.
August unlocked the car, glancing back at her with a small smile. "You good?"
Celine nodded, though her fingers tightened slightly around her bag. "Yeah… just thinking."
He held her gaze for a second longer, like he wanted to say more, then simply opened the passenger door, for her.
Julian paused mid-step, blinking. "Wait—so what was the point of me running?"
"Exercise," August replied smoothly.
Celine snorted softly, sliding into the seat. Julian groaned but climbed into the back, muttering something about betrayal.
The car pulled out onto the road, the earlier warmth fading into something quieter, more tense.
For a while, no one spoke.
Celine stared out the window, her reflection faint against the glass, thoughts racing, her apartment, the restaurant, Nolan. The pattern was too similar to ignore.
August's hand found hers on the console, fingers wrapping around hers firmly, grounding.
"I've got you," he said simply, eyes still on the road.
Her chest tightened slightly, but she nodded, squeezing his hand back.
From the backseat, Julian leaned forward between them, breaking the moment. "So… are we walking into a calm conversation," he paused, then smirked, "or chaos?"
Celine sighed. "With my luck? Chaos."
August huffed a quet ah. "Good. I was getting bored."
Julian grinned. "That's the spirit."
The car sped forward, carrying them toward answers, whether they were ready for them or not.
The car slowed as they pulled up in front of the station, the atmosphere already different from the outside world, heavier, quieter, watchful.
August cut the engine.
For a brief second, no one moved.
Celine exhaled softly. "Okay…"
Julian leaned forward from the backseat. "Showtime."
August stepped out first, walking around to Celine's side before she could open the door herself. He pulled it open, offering her a hand without a word.
She took it.
The small gesture steadied her more than she expected.
Julian hopped out behind them, stretching again like he had all the time in the world. "Let's go catch a criminal," he said casually.
Celine shot him a look. "This isn't a movie."
"Could've fooled me," he muttered.
They stepped inside.
The station buzzed with quiet activity, phones ringing, officers moving around, voices low but constant. A few heads turned as they walked in, eyes lingering just a second longer than usual.
Probably seen August on the TV!!
A uniformed officer approached them. "Can I help you?"
August nodded. "We're here about the restaurant incident from last night."
Recognition flickered across the officer's face. "Right. Mr Creed. Follow me."
Celine's fingers tightened slightly around her bag as they walked deeper inside, past desks and officers, the air growing more serious with every step.
Julian leaned closer to her, whispering, "Still think it's not a movie?"
She elbowed him lightly. "Shut up."
They were led into a small office.
Inside, a man sat behind the desk, flipping through a file. He looked up as they entered, eyes sharp, assessing.
"Have a seat," he said.
August pulled a chair out for Celine before sitting beside her. Julian dropped into the one across, far too relaxed for the setting.
The officer leaned back slightly. "We've made some progress," he said, tapping the file. "But we need to confirm a few things."
Celine's heart picked up.
August's jaw tightened. "Go on."
The officer's gaze shifted between them. "We caught one of the men involved in the attack."
Silence fell instantly.
Julian straightened. "That was fast."
The officer didn't smile. "He's not talking much. But…" he paused, flipping a page, "he did mention something interesting."
Celine's fingers curled tighter. "What?"
The officer looked directly at her now.
"He said this wasn't random," he said slowly. "He said… the job was connected to a woman."
The room went still.
August's hand moved instantly, finding Celine's under the table, gripping it firmly.
Julian's expression darkened. "You've got to be kidding me."
Celine swallowed, her jaw tightening.
"I told you," she said quietly, voice steady despite the tension. "I might know who it is."
The officer leaned forward slightly. "Then we're going to need a name."
Celine inhaled slowly.
"Nolan."
The name landed heavy in the room.
August's grip tightened.
Julian let out a low whistle. "Well… there's our chaos."
The name hung in the air like a weight.
"Nolan," the officer repeated, eyes narrowing slightly as he scribbled it down. "Full name?"
Celine hesitated for just a second. "Nolan Smith."
The officer exchanged a quick glance with another officer standing by the door. Something passed between them, recognition.
August noticed. His jaw tightened. "You know him."
The officer leaned back, tapping his pen against the file. "The name isn't unfamiliar," he admitted carefully. "We've had… mentions."
Julian scoffed under his breath. "That doesn't sound reassuring."
"It means," the officer continued calmly, "we don't jump to conclusions. We verify."
Celine leaned forward slightly, her composure slipping just a bit. "He trashed my apartment," she said. "And now this? It's not a coincidence."
August's hand tightened around hers, grounding but firm. "She's not guessing," he added, voice low, controlled. "Look into him properly."
The officer studied them both, then nodded slowly. "We will. But we'll need more than suspicion. Did he threaten you?"
Celine's lips parted, then closed.
Her fingers curled against her palm, nails pressing into her skin as the memory hit her all at once, the shattered glass, the men, the chaos of that night in her penthouse. It came rushing back in a wave, and her jaw hardened as she clenched her teeth, forcing herself to stay composed.
"Not directly," she said finally. "But… he doesn't let go of things. Or people."
Julian muttered, "Sounds like a psycho to me."
She leaned forward slightly, her voice steadier than she felt as she added.
"One more thing, officer," she said, each word measured. "He's a threat to my properties."
The officer's pen paused mid-air. "Explain."
Celine swallowed, then continued, her tone tightening despite her effort to stay calm. "He wants me to sign them over to him. Everything. My assets."
August's expression darkened instantly, his hand tightening around hers.
The officer frowned now, fully attentive. "Did he state this directly?"
Celine nodded once. "Yes."
The officer jotted something down. "We'll bring him in for questioning if we can establish enough connection. In the meantime…" he paused, looking directly at August, "you should both be careful."
August let out a quiet breath, leaning back slightly. "We already are."
"Good," the officer said. "Because if this is targeted, it may not stop here."
The words settled heavily.
Celine swallowed, her fingers tightening unconsciously in August's.
August turned slightly toward her, his voice softer now. "Hey."
She looked at him.
"I've got you," he repeated, quieter this time, but firmer.
Her chest tightened, but she nodded.
Julian, trying to cut through the tension, leaned back in his chair. "So what's the plan? We just… wait?"
The officer closed the file. "For now, yes. But we'll keep you updated. If anything else happens, anything at all, you contact us immediately."
August nodded once. "You'll hear from us."
They stood, chairs scraping softly against the floor.
As they turned to leave, Outside the office, the noise of the station returned, but it felt distant.
Celine exhaled slowly as they walked. "I hate this," she admitted under her breath.
August didn't respond immediately. Instead, his hand found the small of her back, steady, protective.
"We'll handle it," he said finally.
Julian glanced between them, then sighed. "Yeah… but next time, can the drama wait till after breakfast?"
Celine let out a small, tired laugh.
August smirked faintly. "No promises."