As Julian stood on stage introducing Serena as the brand's co-founder and brilliant new muse, his assistant shoved an executive assistant contract into my hands backstage, stripping my name from the designs I created. I tore it up, wiped every upcoming 3D master file from his servers, and forged a calculated alliance with his billionaire rival, Victor Sterling. The cost of this defiance was brutal. I had to permanently abandon five years of my haute couture legacy, forced to reconstruct my comeback collection from flawed, discarded scrap fabrics. When Serena proudly flaunted my stolen silhouettes in Paris, she didn't realize I always sewed a secret craftsmanship signature into the deepest linings of my garments. As Julian's legal injunctions closed in, only one question remained: would this hidden thread save me, or unravel everything?