he walls of her penthouse. Her team-Zari, Martin, the others-kept her tethered, citing paparazzi, rumors, and the ever-present threat

ted. It was a fragile reprieve, and it left her feeling unexpectedly

ghtings. She'd agreed, slipping out in disguise-a wide-brimmed hat, oversized sunglasses, and a silk scarf wrapped loosely around her neck. The thrill of sneaking into a

e that felt more like a mausoleum than a boutique. The air was heavy, tinged with the faint scent of dust and the cloying remnants of overripe perfume. The polished marble flo

e was a grating hum, casting a sterile glow over the showroom's lifeless expanse. This was Lumière, her pride, her proof to the world-a

a weary shadow. Her blonde hair was pulled into a messy bun, and the lines around her eyes spoke of slee

acked slightly, though sh

smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Dee, yo

e store was a ghost town, a far cry from the bustling haven of exclusivity

slow. Really slow. Not just this week-weeks, actually." She swallowed hard, her voice shrinking. "Sales are

ld fist squeezing her lungs.

ay. "They said they can't keep sending stock until

ams, each unpaid bill another crack in the foundation of Lumière. This store was supposed to be her lifeline, her

a tight circle. Her heels echoed in the empty sp

ce, Dee. The luxury market's oversaturated, and we're... we're not cutt

hrough her hair, tugging at the roots as if the sharp sting could anchor her. Lumière was her rebellion, her defiance against a mother

trembling as she slid a thick, cream-colored env

lumsy with anticipation. The paper inside was crisp, official, the landlord's letterhead glaring at her

month... immediate action required... potential termi

led in half that in sales during its best months, and now, with the racks nearly empty and customers scarce, it wa

urred, but their meaning was stark: her empire was on the verge of collapse. She'd built Lumière t

voice shaky but resolute.

surface cool against her skin. The scent of new leather-once a symbol of triumph, of luxury-now felt like a cruel mockery. These

Sarah?" she asked, her voice

but her words carried the weight of reality. "I don't know, Dee. Without

last the music industry's fickle whims. She'd poured her savings, her heart, her reputation into this brand. It was supposed to be he

she asked, her voice

floor. "A month. Maybe less. If we can't p

onth. Thirty days to save everything she'd built. She pulled her phone from her cl

steadier now, fueled by a spark of defiance

she strode toward the back office. The weight of the letter, the bills, the loo

t be a store she lost-it would be the la