Chapter 1 - THE DRESS THAT SHOULD HAVE BEEN DESTROYED
The photograph on Lucas Cole's phone showed a dress I had designed five years earlier.
Not something similar.
Not a design inspired by mine.
My exact design.
The midnight-blue silk gown had an asymmetrical neckline, delicate gold embroidery climbing from the waist, and three tiny crystal stars hidden inside the left shoulder seam.
I remembered drawing those stars.
My mother had been sitting beside my hospital bed, exhausted from chemotherapy, when she suggested them.
“Three stars,” she'd whispered. “One for you, one for Sophie, and one for me. That way, we're always together.”
I had never forgotten those words.
And now my design was appearing on the website of one of Chicago's most prestigious fashion houses.
Cole House.
Lucas's company.
My hands began shaking.
“Where did you get that photograph?”
Lucas watched me carefully.
“This dress won our company's annual design award five years ago.”
My stomach dropped.
“That's impossible.”
“Why?”
“Because I designed it.”
He didn't laugh.
He didn't accuse me of lying.
Instead, he enlarged the photograph.
“Who submitted it?”
I swallowed.
“My professor, apparently. I submitted my portfolio to the school scholarship committee before I withdrew.”
Lucas looked toward the embroidery on his mother's purple gown.
“You use the same hidden stitch here.”
I nodded.
“My mother called it the rose-lock stitch. She taught me to secure the final thread beneath a tiny embroidered leaf.”
Lucas leaned closer.
“My mother used that technique.”
I looked up sharply.
“What?”
“Not many people knew it.”
He studied me.
“What was your mother's name?”
“Rose Carter.”
Lucas's expression changed.
He repeated it slowly.
“Rose Carter.”
Then he stood.
“Come upstairs.”
Fear tightened my chest.
“Am I fired?”
“No.”
“Then what do you want?”
He looked directly at me.
“The truth.”
I hesitated.
Lucas noticed.
“You can refuse. I'm not ordering you.”
That surprised me more than anything else he'd said.
Finally, I placed my sewing kit inside my bag.
Lucas carried the purple gown himself.
We entered his private elevator.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then he asked:
“Did you ever receive a letter from Cole House?”
I shook my head.
“No.”
His jaw tightened.
“Not even a scholarship offer?”
“No, sir.”
He looked away.
“That's strange.”
“Why?”
The elevator doors opened.
Lucas turned toward me.
“Because five years ago, my mother personally selected a young designer named Elena Carter for a fully funded apprenticeship.”
My heart stopped.
He continued.
“She also approved a $250,000 development grant.”
I stared at him.
“I never received any money.”
Lucas's expression hardened.
“Then someone stole it.”
He opened his office door.
And on the wall behind his desk hung a framed photograph.
His mother.
Standing beside my mother.
Both smiling.
Both holding a purple silk gown.
May you like
Below the photograph was a handwritten inscription.
“To Rose and Vivienne. Our secret will change everything.”
