Lucian and Louis walked away from the garden toward Lucian's black car, where Mr. Simthel was already standing, waiting for them.
As they approached, Mr. Simthel opened the door with a friendly gesture and smiled at Lucian.
"Welcome, young sir!"
Lucian smiled back warmly.
"Hello, Uncle Simthel."
Lucian got in first, followed by Louis, who bowed his head slightly out of respect to Mr. Simthel. The older man returned the gesture with a gentle, calm smile—his usual kindness clear in his expression.
As they settled inside, Louis nudged Lucian lightly with his elbow, leaning toward him with a mischievous grin.
"So… they call you 'young sir' and open the door for you like this? I didn't expect all that. I only see things like this in movies, not in real life!"
Lucian let out an embarrassed, shy laugh and answered simply:
"Yes… it's real."
Louis grinned as he looked around the car, enjoying the moment. Lucian kept his usual composed demeanor, though there was a hint of warmth in his expression—he didn't mind sharing this side of his life with his friend. Meanwhile, Mr. Simthel began driving toward Velora Company.
---
Lucian and Louis sat in the back seat of the sleek black car while Mr. Simthel drove calmly through the city streets. The atmosphere inside was quiet, the only sounds being the gentle hum of the engine and the soft classical music Mr. Simthel preferred while driving.
After a few minutes, the structure of Velora's headquarters began to appear in the distance—three massive interconnected buildings forming an elongated geometric square, surrounded by meticulously arranged gardens and small fountains that added a sense of life and elegance to the place.
The car stopped at the main entrance. When Louis reached for the door handle to get out as usual, Lucian stopped him with a quiet smile.
"Leave it. Uncle Simthel will handle it."
Louis froze, looking at him with slight confusion. Lucian added casually:
"I wasn't used to it before, but… I've gotten used to it lately."
At that moment, Mr. Simthel stepped out, walking with steady steps, and gently opened the door for them. Louis got out first, then Lucian.
Lucian turned to Mr. Simthel with respectful formality.
"Thank you, Uncle Simthel. Please wait for us here. We won't be long."
Simthel bowed slightly, still smiling.
"As you wish, young sir."
As the two walked away from the car, Louis raised his gaze toward the massive company building, clearly taken aback by its beauty and grandeur.
The view was striking: towering reflective glass structures, wide green spaces, and impeccable attention to every detail.
He murmured in genuine admiration:
"Man… you see this every day? This looks more like a museum than a company!"
Lucian chuckled softly, hands in his pockets.
"Yes, every day."
Louis shook his head with a smile, still unable to believe he was standing in front of one of the most prestigious companies in the city, while Lucian moved as if he were completely at home—calm, elegant, and effortlessly in place.
Lucian and Louis entered through Velora's main glass doors. A cool breeze from the air conditioning greeted them, mixed with the building's subtle scent—something between fresh wood and fine leather.
Louis stopped for a moment near the entrance, his eyes scanning every corner in silent awe.
The interior design radiated quiet luxury rather than loud extravagance.
Dark colors dominated the space—deep grays, glossy blacks, white accents, and rich browns—enhanced with subtle golden touches on the walls and furniture.
The floor was made of polished black marble that reflected the hidden lighting in the tall ceiling. The lights were dim and strategically placed, giving the space a modern yet calm atmosphere.
The seating in the lobby was made of luxurious navy-colored leather, and the tables were thick glass. On each table sat a small vase with a single white rose — a tiny detail, yet one that screamed elegance.
The reception area was a long black-marble counter, with a digital screen behind it displaying the company's logo in a glowing gold hue.
As soon as the receptionist saw Lucian, a polite smile formed on her face.
"Welcome back, Mr. Lucian."
He dipped his head slightly with a composed smile.
"Thank you. We won't be long — just a quick visit."
Louis, standing beside him, looked as though he was trying hard not to turn his head in every direction. Everything around him shined and matched so perfectly that he felt like he was walking inside a movie scene.
As they continued walking, the employees in the hallways greeted Lucian with polite respect. Some smiled; others offered a light nod.
Louis noticed immediately and murmured under his breath:
"Dude… people here treat you like you're one of the owners."
Lucian laughed softly without turning his head.
"Not exactly, but you could say they're used to me."
Louis raised his eyebrows in genuine astonishment and whispered:
"Even the way they walk is organized! Like robots. The whole place looks like it breathes electronic elegance."
Lucian responded with a side smile, his tone a mix of pride and calmness:
"That's Velora for you. No room for chaos… all because of the Miss, with all due respect to her."
They stopped in front of a large glass door overlooking the design and management office. Lucian turned to him and said:
"This is one of the areas I'm allowed to enter. We'll take a quick look and then leave."
Louis's eyes sparkled with excitement.
"Alright… feels like I'm stepping into a different world."
Lucian and Louis entered the spacious office through a thick glass door with a glossy black metal frame.
The moment they stepped in, Louis felt as if he'd crossed into an entirely different realm.
The floor was dark wood, gleaming under the soft lighting, and the walls were decorated with modern art pieces in shades of gray and deep navy.
Rows of carefully designed desks lined the room, separated by low glass partitions that provided privacy without isolating the space.
The employees worked in impressive silence — no noise, no chatter — only the soft clicking of keyboards and the gentle rustle of turning pages.
Everyone knew exactly what they were doing, with a level of precision that felt almost military, yet refined.
The moment Lucian stepped inside, a few employees briefly lifted their heads — just a respectful glance — then returned to work as if his presence were a natural part of the environment.
Louis tilted his head toward him and whispered teasingly:
"Yeah, you're definitely not a regular employee here, superstar."
Lucian laughed quietly, answering in his usual calm tone:
"They're just polite. But I won't deny they're very kind to me."
One of the supervisors approached — a man in his mid-forties, stylish and composed — and greeted him with a professional smile:
"Welcome back, Mr. Lucian. Is this a visit or a work appointment?"
Lucian replied respectfully, gesturing toward his friend:
"Just a short visit. This is my friend Louis. I wanted to show him the place a little."
The supervisor extended his hand to Louis with a warm smile.
"Welcome to Velora. We rarely receive guests, but please, take your time."
Simple words, yet they carried a clear message — the place was disciplined, structured, and every detail neatly calculated, even the phrasing of a welcome.
The two walked together down the long hallway, Louis glancing left and right in wide-eyed amazement at every small detail—
the glossy tables, the digital display screens, the miniature models of new project designs, and the glass panels reflecting the light in mesmerizing ways.
He laughed:
"Every corner here screams 'we're very rich.' Even the printer looks more expensive than my dad's car."
Lucian chuckled softly, then nodded toward the left:
"This is my temporary desk. Sometimes I help with new designs or development projects."
Louis stopped in front of the desk — it was organized to an almost suspicious degree, nothing out of place:
a black paper tray, a coffee cup with gold patterns, a medium-sized notebook with the company logo, a white laptop with black engraved designs of the brand, and a gold pen holder engraved with the company's symbol in white.
Louis examined it all and said, genuinely impressed:
"You really work here? I mean… in this fancy environment?"
Lucian gave a modest smile as he pulled his chair slightly:
"Yes, but it's not what you think. It's tough here, and everyone's under pressure. Bella doesn't joke about discipline."
Louis raised a brow.
"Miss Bella supervises the place herself?"
"Sometimes, but her presence is always felt — even when she's not here."
Louis fell quiet for a moment, then spoke in a more serious tone:
"Amazing… I've never seen you this serious before."
Lucian leaned lightly on his desk, smiling calmly.
"Maybe because here I'm learning to be more responsible. This company changes you… in a good way."
Louis nodded slowly, still mesmerized by the entire environment.
Then he glanced at Lucian with a playful tone:
"If this is your temporary desk, then your real one must be in a palace."
Both laughed quietly as another employee passed by carrying files, offering Lucian a respectful nod. Lucian responded with a gentle smile.
Only then did Louis truly realize that his friend was no longer the child he used to know — he was calmer, more aware, and closer to an adult living in a world much bigger than both of them.
---
As Lucian and Louis continued walking deeper into the company hallways, Lucian's phone buzzed with a soft ringtone.
He pulled it from his pocket and looked at the screen — the moment he saw the name, he stopped in place.
On the screen, it read: "Lady. Bella".
He looked toward Louis with an apologetic tone.
"Just a moment, I have to take this call."
Louis nodded in understanding while Lucian stepped aside toward a glass corner near an empty desk.
He pressed the call button, and Bella's voice came through — full of warmth and lightheartedness, the kind of familiarity that sounded nothing like a boss talking to an employee, but more like a mother to her son.
She said in a gentle tone:
"Oh, Lucian! I heard you're at the company now?"
Lucian smiled instinctively, even though she couldn't see him.
"Yes, Miss Bella. I came for a short visit with my friend Louis."
There was a brief pause before she spoke again, her voice friendly:
"Alright. I wanted to ask if you'd be returning home afterward."
He replied politely:
"Yes. Once I drop Louis home, I'll return immediately."
Bella's tone softened in approval.
"Good. But before you go, I want you to stop by Amelie's office, alright? She has some important papers regarding last week's deal. I need them tonight, and you must hurry before she leaves."
Lucian answered calmly:
"♡f course. But why do I need to hurry before she leaves — is Miss Amelie leaving now?"
Bella laughed softly and said:
"Yes, but she'll be leaving in a few minutes as far as I remember. She has other tasks to oversee. You'll find the documents ready on her desk — just take them and bring them to me. This is a trust mission between you and me, isn't it?"
Lucien nodded, even though she couldn't see him.
"Understood completely. I'll handle it."
Bella went quiet for a brief moment before saying in a warmer tone:
"And don't take too long, alright? Have you had lunch?"
Lucien chuckled softly.
"Not yet, but don't worry — we'll grab something on the way."
She replied gently:
"Alright then. I'll see you before evening."
He answered calmly:
"Goodbye, Miss Bella."
He ended the call with a quiet exhale, slipped the phone back into his pocket, and walked back to where Louis was standing — leaning against the wall, watching the lights reflect on the polished office glass.
Louis lifted a brow, teasing:
"Your face went all stiff and official the moment you talked to that person… Who is she exactly? Your boss? A relative?"
Lucien laughed under his breath and replied in a calm tone with a hint of evasiveness:
"My boss… and a bit more than that."
Louis shot him a clearly curious look, but didn't push. He only smirked sideways and said:
"It's obvious there's a lot of respect between you two… I won't ask further."
Lucien answered with the same calm:
"And I appreciate that."
Then he nodded toward the opposite hallway.
"Come on. Let's stop by Miss Amelie's office and then head out. We don't want to disturb anyone during work hours."
They walked together toward the next section of the company, Louis quieter this time — his eyes absorbing every detail while his mind churned with questions he wasn't quite ready to ask.
---
As they continued down the wide corridor, Lucien pointed at a sleek, reflective glass office at the end and said quietly:
"That's my permanent office… but it's locked right now. I forgot the key at home."
He then pointed toward a larger, more luxurious office with dark tones and refined, elegant details.
"And that… is Miss Bella's office."
He lifted his finger to the opposite side.
"And there is Miss Amelie's office."
Moments later, the door to the last office opened, and Amelie stepped out with confident strides. She was a woman in her late twenties, her light-brown hair cut neatly in a short, elegant style. Her navy suit gave her a sharp, professional presence. Her pale green eyes caught the corridor light, giving them a distinct, polished glimmer.
Her eyes met Lucien's first, and she gave him a calm smile.
Lucien returned the smile politely and said in a courteous tone:
"Miss Bella asked me to collect the contract documents from the past few weeks."
Before Amelie responded, Louis — standing behind him — was staring at her silently, his eyes practically shining… as if a golden arrow had appeared out of nowhere and shot straight through his heart in a clean cinematic moment.
When Amelie turned toward him, he lost control of himself. He stepped forward quickly, grabbed both her hands, and said with barely contained excitement:
"It's truly a pleasure to meet you. Miss… Amelie, right?"
Amelie froze for a second — surprised, though steady. A faint, sarcastic smile tugged at her lips as she replied with cool amusement:
"Looks like someone got impressed a little too quickly today."
Lucien stood behind them, mortified, gripping the edge of his jacket in embarrassment as he whispered under his breath:
"Oh God… Louis is starting already…"
Louis leaned even closer, as if that golden arrow wasn't enough — it had apparently shoved him forward too.
"Forgive me," he said, eyes shining, still holding her hands, "but you look strangely familiar… Have we met before? Maybe in a dream?"
Amelie's eyebrows lifted slowly. Her confusion shifted into a blend of disbelief and amusement. She tried to pull her hands back gently, but Louis seemed to have lost all awareness of the world.
She asked dryly:
"So… is this your usual greeting style?"
Lucien immediately stepped in, forcing a diplomatic smile while tugging on Louis's arm, trying to pull him back.
"My apologies, Miss Amelie. My friend is just… a little enthusiastic, nothing more."
But Louis didn't move. He stood there, leaning slightly forward, as if hearing music no one else could, repeating dreamily:
"Enthusiastic? No — amazed. Professional beauty is a deadly weapon, Lucien. Why didn't you warn me?"
Amelie raised an eyebrow, sighed quietly, and said in a low but firm tone:
"Louis, is it? I'd prefer to keep my hands to myself before I have to call security… though I appreciate your professional enthusiasm very much."
Lucien chuckled nervously and finally began dragging him back.
"Enough, genius. You're going to get us kicked out before we finish the tour."
Louis finally let go of her hands, running his fingers through his hair in an overly dramatic attempt to recover his dignity.
"Ah, of course — my apologies, Miss Amelie. I may have rushed in, but blame the designer who let you walk out in that suit!"
Amelie placed her hands on her hips, giving him a side-smile that carried both humor and unshakable authority — despite being slightly shorter than both of them.
"I suppose the company will need a new guest protocol… specifically for Louis."
Lucien laughed, trying to cool the situation:
"I promise I'll train him personally before the next visit."
Amelie shook her head lightly.
"I hope so, or I'll send you both an urgent self-control training form."
She took a calm breath, as if wiping the entire scene from her memory, and said in a crisp, professional tone:
"The documents are on my desk — the black file on the right shelf. Take it, Lucien, and lock the office when you leave… and hand it to Bella when you see her."
Lucien nodded immediately.
"Understood, Miss Amelie."
She gave the faintest hint of a smile, then walked away with steady steps, not looking back — as if the encounter had never happened.
Louis, meanwhile, remained planted in place, staring after her like someone watching a perfect movie scene he refused to let end.
Lucien crossed his arms, exasperated.
"Seriously, Louis?"
Louis replied without taking his eyes off her:
"What do you want from me? Gravity works. I'm only human."
Lucien exhaled sharply and grabbed him by the arm, pulling him toward Amelie's office.
"A human who's going to get me in trouble — that's what you are."
He quickly entered the office, grabbed the black file precisely where she said it would be, stepped out, and locked the door. He slipped the key into his pocket, then grabbed Louis — who was still mentally floating — by the wrist.
"Show's over. Let's go before you create another reason for us to sleep in the security room."
Louis laughed as he was dragged out of the company.
"At least I can say I met an angel in a business suit!"
Lucien glanced upward in exhausted prayer.
"Lord, give me patience before I lose my mind with this idiot…"
They left the company — Lucien holding the file, and Louis still trapped in his daydreams about "Miss Amelie."
•••
Fast-forwarding time.
A short while after the two of them left the company, the sky had already begun shifting toward sunset when the black car stopped in front of the quiet apartment building where Lucien lived.
Mr. Seimthel was, as usual, driving calmly and steadily, speaking only when necessary.
Louis had been dropped off earlier in front of his home after a ride filled with jokes and laughter that did not stop until the very last second.
When the car finally halted at the entrance, Mr. Seimthel glanced toward the back seat with his usual warm smile.
"We've arrived, young sir."
Lucien nodded lightly and replied with gentle politeness:
"Thank you, Uncle Seimthel. See you tomorrow, as usual."
He stepped out of the car with the file in his hand, closed the door quietly behind him, and Mr. Seimthel remained watching until Lucien entered the building's lobby before driving away.
The air was calm, the sky tinted in soft orange.
Lucien entered through the shiny biometric gate and headed toward the elevator. The familiar silence filled the building, broken only by the sound of his steps and the elevator humming upward.
When he reached his floor, he walked down the hallway until he stopped at the door of the apartment he shared with Miss Bella and her husband, Mr. Amory.
He took out his key, unlocked the door, and stepped inside.
The place was peacefully quiet.
He placed the file on the entry table, removed his coat and hung it on the nearby rack.
Then he exhaled lightly, murmuring to himself with a small smile:
"A long day indeed… but at least it ended peacefully."
Lucien retrieved the file from the entry table and walked through the hallway, opening the door that led into the heart of the apartment with the expectation of the usual calm… but what he saw made him freeze on the spot as if struck by electricity.
The spacious living room at the center of the apartment was in absolute chaos.
Makeup artists moved between tables carrying massive cosmetic cases, others opened boxes bursting with luxurious clothes thrown across sofas and chairs with no sense of order.
The air was thick with perfume, sprays, and overlapping conversations and laughter.
The housemaid, Nozumaki, rushed past him carrying a tray with snacks and juice cups, heading toward the stairs.
She nearly bumped into him, stopping abruptly and bowing her head quickly:
"Oh! Mr. Lucien! Sorry, I didn't see you—Miss Bella is upstairs!"
He raised his brows in surprise, scanned the chaotic room again, and muttered to himself:
"What in the world is happening here…?"
He closed the door behind him quietly and began moving slowly between the workers who hadn't even noticed his arrival, fully absorbed in their mysterious preparations.
The floor was scattered with bags and fabrics, chairs moved out of place, and faint music added an extra layer of surreal disorder.
Lucien sighed and headed toward the stairs with the file in hand.
With every step he climbed, he heard new sounds from above—a mix of women's voices, muffled laughter, and beauty devices humming.
By the time he reached the top of the stairs, he paused, exhaled softly, and whispered in mild panic:
"My God… am I home, or backstage at a fashion show?"
He continued walking, determined to find Miss Bella and get some clarity about what was happening upstairs.
When he reached the upper floor, he noticed it was much calmer than the lower level.
But a loud cluster of voices—mostly female—was coming from the end of the hallway, specifically Bella and Amory's room.
Lucien approached carefully. The hallway smelled of expensive, persistent perfume.
He reached the open door and paused for a moment before entering.
His eyebrows lifted in a mix of surprise and disbelief.
Bella stood in front of a tall mirror with a gleaming golden frame, wearing an impeccably tailored black suit that perfectly matched her fair complexion and sharp features.
Two stylists stood beside her, adjusting the edges of her blazer and checking the precision of the buttons and seams.
Bella's hair was styled into a low "donut" bun with flawless precision. Her makeup was extremely subtle—barely visible yet giving her a refined, glowing finish.
Her lips carried a glossy pink shade, and her nails were painted black with thin gold accents.
On the other side of the room, Amory sat in front of his vanity while a stylist finished adjusting the back of his hairstyle.
He wore a formal black suit similar to Bella's, making the entire scene look like preparation for a major event or high-profile photoshoot.
He spoke to the stylist with playful ease, dropping jokes that made the man laugh from time to time.
In the center of the room stood Madame Rogier—the personal stylist responsible for all of Bella's public appearances.
A woman in her late fifties, lively despite her age, dressed in simple but shiny, color-coordinated clothing that reflected her artistic eye.
She was speaking loudly as she observed Bella with a sharp, evaluating gaze:
"Adjust the collar angle a bit! No, no—yes, exactly like that. Bella, darling, this color looks like it was created for you!"
Bella smiled faintly at her reflection in the mirror, calm and perfectly confident.
As for Lucien, he stood by the door, not sure whether he should enter or wait.
The entire scene was both luxurious and chaotic at once—more like the backstage of a fashion show than an actual bedroom.
He muttered under his breath as he glanced around:
"Alright… at least now I know why it was a mess downstairs."
While Lucien was still standing at the doorway, Bella caught his reflection in the mirror.
She immediately smiled and called out in a soft, lively voice:
"My dear Lucien!"
Her tone was so warm that everyone in the room instinctively turned toward the door—including Amory, whose smile froze instantly.
He turned slowly toward Bella, his expression unable to hide his irritation and a hint of jealousy. But before he could say anything, the hairstylist cut in sharply:
"Sir, do not move! The hair isn't set yet!"
Amory exhaled quietly, looking away in annoyance while Bella laughed softly at the situation. She waved her hand toward Lucien.
"Come in, don't stay standing there, dear."
Lucien approached with composed steps, still holding the file he had brought.
Once he reached her, he raised the file slightly and said:
"This is what you requested, Miss Bella."
She took the file from him with a gentle smile and placed it on the side table.
"Thank you, Lucien."
She noticed the hesitation in his eyes as he looked at the chaos around the room, and Bella smiled knowingly before he even asked:
"I know what you're thinking… Yes, it does look like a small battlefield, doesn't it?"
Before he could respond, Madame Roger approached with lively steps, extending her hand to Lucien with a charming, exaggerated smile:
"Welcome, young Lucien! I am Madame Roger, Miss Bella's personal designer. I've heard so much about you."
Lucien shook her hand politely, answering with a shy smile:
"It's an honor to meet you, Madame Roger."
She laughed lightly and replied in her naturally loud voice:
"I know you're the fourth student under Bella. You'll soon be just like the others… except for that second student, the gloomy one—oh, I simply couldn't deal with that energy!"
Lucien froze for a moment, unsure whether he should laugh or respond, but he settled for a small smile.
"I suppose that makes me the easiest student, then."
Roger laughed enthusiastically and clapped lightly:
"That's exactly what I want to hear!"
Bella chuckled as well, then stepped in gently to explain the situation:
"In any case, don't worry about what you're seeing here. This is all because we're heading tonight to the family dinner party at the Red Sapphire Palace."
Lucien nodded with understanding.
"Ah… so that's why all these intense preparations."
Bella nodded as she checked the final details in the mirror.
"Yes, and honestly… we're extremely late, which is why everyone is frantic. We'll be back late tonight, so don't worry if we miss the usual time. Just make sure the main door isn't locked."
Lucien smiled softly.
"Of course, Miss Bella. I wish you both a successful evening."
Bella looked at him with a gentle, almost motherly smile.
"Thank you, dear. You may go now, and get some rest—you look tired."
Lucien nodded, threw a quick glance at Amory—who was still pretending not to care—and then quietly left the room, closing the door behind him.
•••
When Bella and Amory stepped into the sleek black car, camera flashes exploded from every direction, and the loud voices of reporters filled the air with chaos.
Security struggled to clear a path until the door closed behind the couple, the noise instantly fading into silence inside the luxurious cabin.
Bella exhaled as she leaned back against the soft leather seat.
"Finally… I can't believe how annoying journalists have become these days."
There was no answer.
She turned her head, finding Amory sitting in silence, staring out the tinted window with a cold, rigid expression.
His features did nothing to hide the irritation simmering beneath the surface.
Bella raised an eyebrow slightly—she knew this silence well.
Jealousy-silence.
A small, amused smile curled at her lips.
The car began moving slowly, escorted by two security convoys ahead and two behind.
A black glass partition separated them from the driver, giving them complete privacy.
Bella turned to him playfully.
"Are we going to spend the entire ride like this, or has Mr. Amory decided to punish me with eternal silence?"
He didn't answer, only exhaled softly and checked his watch with clear impatience.
Bella tilted her head, a sly gleam in her eyes as she spoke calmly on purpose:
"Oh… is this because I said 'dear Lucien'?"
Amory's brows tightened, still refusing to look at her—but his silence was all the confirmation she needed.
She leaned toward him slightly, her tone gentle, almost like soothing a sulking child:
"Amory… Lucien is just a boy, you know that. There's no reason to get worked up."
He finally turned to her, his gaze steady, his eyes revealing the jealousy and concern he couldn't hide.
"Just a boy, yes… but you said it the same way you say it to me."
Bella smiled warmly, affection softening her features.
"And do you really think anyone could take your place? Even if I wanted to?"
He tried to keep his stern expression, but failed. He exhaled with a small smile that betrayed his embarrassment.
Bella continued, her tone deeper and gentler:
"You know me, Amory. I don't repeat my feelings twice."
He stared at her for a few seconds, then slowly lifted his hand and took hers, as if finally surrendering.
Bella whispered with a soft smile:
"See? I told you—getting angry never helps."
Amory turned his face toward the window to hide his smile, while the car continued gliding through the glowing streets of Paris toward the Red Sapphire Palace.
To be continued…