[Two Months Later – L.H Schatz Headquarters, Paris]
[Levi POV]
The sound of my shoes echoed through the marble floors. Clean, sharp, deliberate.
Two months ago, I could barely stand on my own.
Now, I was walking to my office. Or should I say, my new office?
Not as the Vice Chairman of Ackerman Group. I left that behind for good. I was done with boardrooms filled with sycophants, and I had no interest in propping up my father's empire anymore.
This was different. This was mine.
L.H Schatz
A name reborn from what used to be Ackerman Fashion, my mother's legacy, ripped away when she died and consumed by the corporate machine. But she had always meant for it to be mine. I didn't need permission. I just needed to take it back.
So I did.
"Good morning, Mr. Ackerman," the staff at the lobby reception greeted me. "It's good to see you back, sir."
I nodded once. "Morning."
Some of them still slipped and called me 'Vice Chairman' out of habit, but not anymore. Now, they called me what I truly was.
Levi Ackerman, the CEO of L.H Schatz.
The name etched into the frosted glass above my office. The company name, not the personal one.
The 'Schatz' was for her, my mother.
The 'L.H' was for me… and him.
The elevator doors slid open. I stepped into the top floor, my new office, my new world. A blend of fashion, art and rebellion.
And there, exactly where he always was, stood Haruka. Tablet in hand, a faint smirk on his lips, effortlessly polished in a custom-tailored suit from our unreleased collection.
"You're early." He said.
Well, he left first today to handle some things, and I'm healthy enough now to walk on my own.
"I could say the same about you," I replied, slipping off my coat.
"And who's the reason I have to be earlier than usual?" He said, rolling his eyes.
"Haha. I'm sorry, okay?" I stood up and gave him a soft peck on his cheek.
He was clearly taken aback for a moment, but luckily the curtains were still down.
"Hah. Seriously," he glared at me and then acted as a professional secretary as he always did. "Your 9AM meeting with Riviere PR is confirmed. They're ready to finalise the press strategy."
I sat down slowly behind my desk. "For the reveal?"
He nodded. "We can still choose between a press conference or live collaboration with ETOILE Group."
I tapped a finger against my desk thoughtfully.
It was time, almost. After more than ten years, the world would finally see the face behind the name L. Schatz. The artist who'd been haunting galleries and designing collections under anonymity.
But not yet.
"Not this week," I said. "We hold the launch back a little longer. Let them keep guessing. We'll do it right. One broadcast. One stage. No room for interpretation."
Haruka smiled slightly. "You want to make history."
I looked up at him.
"I want to make sure my mother's voice is louder than my father's."
A silence settled between us, not uncomfortable, just full of everything we didn't have to say out loud.
He moved closer and set the morning's report on my desk.
"Welcome back, CEO."
I gave him a look. "You're going to keep calling me that all day?"
"I used to call you Mr. Ackerman or sir before. It's either that or Schatz, my treasure." He said, smirking.
"Haruka."
"Yes?"
"Shut up and bring me tea."
He laughed, soft and familiar. "On it, my treasure."
And as he walked away, I turned my chair toward the window, looking out at the skyline.
Not hiding. Not running.
Just waiting for the right moment.
To show the world who I really was.
[Two Days Later – L.H Schatz Private Briefing Room]
The light dimmed as the presentation screen came to life in front of me.
Beside me sat Haruka, fingers flying silently across his tablet as the PR team finalised the logistics on the display. Across the table were our lead marketing director, the ETOILE media liaisons, and three core creatives who'd worked on the last capsule collection.
Everything was falling into place.
The rebranding of Ackerman Fashion into L.H Schatz had been seamless. The designs spoke for themselves. The public adored the refined lines, the quiet artistry, and the bold softness. Every campaign had been released anonymously under the brand name, just as planned.
But now?
It was time.
Time to stop hiding behind the curtain. Time to let the world see the artist and the fashion designer.
Time to be L. Schatz, officially.
"Our numbers have doubled since the spring line was teased," the digital lead said, tapping the screen. "Speculation online is insane. People think L. Schatz is a collective, or a recluse in Switzerland, or someone already famous working under a fake name. We've done well keeping your identity under wraps."
"Good." I said, fingers steepled under my chin. "We keep it that way until the moment I walk on stage."
Haruka turned towards me. "You've chosen the format, then?"
I nodded.
"Live reveal. Full visual broadcast. Stage set at the new gallery in Saint-Germain. One part fashion showcase, one part installation. In the final ten minutes, the mask comes off."
The PR teams exchanged thrilled glances. One of them actually whispered "genius".
"I want it clean. Art meets fashion and legacy," I continued. "No gimmicks. I walk out, I speak. I'll show the world that L. Schatz is a man. And that mass is me."
"And your name?" Haruka asked with a faint smile.
"Levi Ackerman," I said. "There's no shame in it. That name belongs to me, not the Ackerman Family. Not my father."
A moment of silence passed in the room. A quiet understanding.
Then the marketing director cleared her throat.
"For visuals," she said, "we suggest opening with projections of your previous artwork and then slowly layering them with the new collection's design sketches. A visual evolution of your dual artistry. We pair that with live performance, strings and light, minimal narration and save the reveal for the end. Spotlight. Centre stage."
"Perfect," I said.
Haruka raised a brow. "You're really going all in."
I smirked. "It's about time."
[Later That Night - Levi's Mansion]
I stood alone in the studio space on the basement floor.
My paintings hung along the walls. Old ones, abstract and intimate. Some were known. Some never seen by anyone but Haruka.
In the centre stood a mannequin draped in the final piece of the new collection. A charcoal wool coat with hand-painted accents trailing down the hem like shadows in motion.
The coat was titled 'Schatz'.
Haruka entered quietly behind me, holding two cups of tea.
"You okay?" He asked.
"More than okay." I said, accepting the cup. "For the first time in years… I feel like I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be."
He glanced at the coat, then at the sketches pinned beside it.
"Your mother would've loved this," he said. "You're doing exactly what she dreamed for you."
"She called me that name every time she tucked me in," I said, voice quieter now. "Mein Kleiner Schatz (my little treasure). I used to think it was just a pet name. I didn't realise it would become… everything."
Haruka stepped beside me, our shoulders brushing.
"She'd be proud of the man you've become." He said with a gentle smile.
"I hope so."
He nudged me gently. "I know so."
We stood in silence, sipping tea, watching the coat sway ever so slightly in the still air, a monument to the past and a promise of what was to come.
[Next Day, Early Evening - Levi's Office]
The sky outside was tinged with soft amber, casting long shadows across the floor-to-ceiling windows of my office. Most of the staff had already gone for the day, leaving the building in its usual after-hours silence — the kind I didn't mind.
I sat at my desk. Reviewing the last details of the broadcast revealed while Haruka organised next week's media prep beside me.
Then came a soft knock on the door.
Haruka looked up first. "That'll be him."
I stood, smoothing down the front of my jacket. Haruka moved to open the door.
And there he was.
My grandfather.
Wearing a tailored charcoal coat, still with a cane in hand, but standing a little straighter than usual. His health had improved since the hospital stay, but time never fully returned what it took.
Still, the moment his eyes met mine, there was nothing frail about him.
He stepped in slowly, surveying the office.
His gaze settled on the company name etched in frosted silver on the back glass wall.
L.H SCHATZ
Then he looked at me.
"So this is what you've built."
I nodded. "From the ground up."
He smiled, tired but proud. "It's exactly what your mother wanted."
"She wanted it to be mine. And now it is."
Haruka stepped aside, giving us the room, but didn't leave. He knew he didn't have to. My grandfather simply offered him a polite nod.
"You've done well, Levi." He said, approaching the couch to sit. "Not just with this company. With yourself also."
I stood up, settling on the couch across from him.
"There were years," he continued, "when I wondered if you'd ever stop carrying other people's burdens long enough to build something for yourself."
I gave a small smile. "Took me long enough."
"Better late than never," he said. "And better right than rushed."
Haruka stepped closer, setting two cups of warm tea on the table without a word. Grandfather accepted it with a quiet thanks.
After a moment, he looked back up at me, eyes a little shinier than before.
"I still remember when your mother painted your name beside her design sketches," he said, "even before you could write, she'd say, 'Levi helped me with this one.' You were just a boy, covered in charcoal, getting scolded for touching fabric you weren't supposed to."
I laughed slowly. "I remember her throwing a rolled-up magazine at me for climbing a sewing table."
"She let you dream," he continued, "but she also taught you to fight for what mattered. And now here you are. Not just inheriting her legacy. You've reclaimed it."
My throat tightened.
Haruka reached over behind me and placed a familiar sketchbook on the table. The old leather-bound one my mother had used.
I turned it toward Grandfather and opened to the first page. Her handwriting — still elegant, still gentle — stared back at us.
"For Levi, my little Schatz. One day, this will be yours."
His eyes lingered on the page.
"I'm glad she didn't live to see what the Group tried to turn her brand into," he said. "But I'm even more glad she doesn't need to. Because you've undone all of it."
I met his gaze.
"I didn't do it alone." I said, glancing at Haruka. "Haruka… he's been beside me every step of the way."
Grandfather glanced at him, eyes thoughtful. "I know. I've watched."
Haruka bowed his head slightly. "It's been an honour, sir."
"No." Grandfather said, voice warm. "The honour is ours. You gave Levi something no title or fortune ever could. A reason to come back."
Silence filled the room.
Not awkward. Just full.
Full of everything that didn't need to be said out loud.
After a long pause, grandfather smiled again.
"So… when do you plan to tell the world that you're L. Schatz?"
I blinked. "You knew?"
He chuckled softly. "Levi, I'm old, not blind. And I know your brushwork like I know my own signature. Your mother used to say only you inherited her hands."
Haruka hid his grin behind his hand.
I sighed. "We're planning the live reveal next week. Full stage. No more shadows."
Grandfather nodded approvingly.
"I'll be watching," he said. "And so will she."
I didn't speak for a moment. Because if I did, I wouldn't trust my voice.
Instead, I stood and walked towards him and sat on the couch beside him.
He placed a hand over mine.
"Welcome back, Levi."
"I'm home." I said.
And this time. It felt true.
TO BE CONTINUED!!!