Nine months too late: After divorce

"You'll get everything you need to work on it, but you won't be allowed any other assistance. It'll be just you, Sylvie." He further explained, adding to Sylvie's fright. "Do you think it's something you can do? You can tap out." How could he give her such an impossible challenge? Even with assistance, Sylvie doubted she'd be able to accomplish it within the given timeframe. Unless they'd have to work nonstop around the clock.

Tears stung at the corners of her eyes as she met his gaze. His eyes were as chilling and shadowy as always, but she could see a hint of dark amusement in them. Then, it dawned on her-he wanted to watch her lose, wanted to give her hope so close she could smell it, but it'd be futile that she'd be forced to walk away from it. He wanted to watch her 'give up. Wanted to watch her crumble.

And based on the ridiculous terms he's given to her, that should be really easy for him to achieve.

"I'll do it." Her eyes were on the screen as she spoke.

If Kage was surprised, he didn't show it.Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

He nodded, took a long drag from his cigar and blew the smoke in the air.

Sylvie was taken to a fashion shop in the building. Apparently, Kage had to dismiss the people working there for the day so Sylvie could make use of their equipments. Kage insisted that in order to ensure she doesn't get any help, she'd have to work under his supervision.

In a couple of hours, every other thing she needed to work on the dress was provided to her, then she was left alone, leaving her to get into work.

************

Astrid had a scowl on her face as she entered into Sylvie's room. She didn't think she'd ever be doing this for the 'wretch, but her curiosity was getting the best of her.

She knew how difficult it was to please her grandfather. Hence, Astrid was shocked when she heard he'd complimented Sylvie's sketches. In addition, he deemed her fit to join them in a competition.

She had been sure that her half sister couldn't be good at fashion. So, now, she wanted to satisfy her curiosity.

Checking the room, it didn't take long before she found her sketchbooks, two of them.

She picked one of them, a frown on her face as she flipped through the pages.

Her frown deepened and was slowly replaced by surprise when she found the designs... impressive. As much as she hated to admit it, they turned out to be not what she expected. How was this possible?

She checked every one of it and scoffed, a crease on her forehead. How was it possible for Sylvie to be this good? She had only spent two years in fashion school.

There was something about her designs. They were.creative. Exceptional. Astrid had never seen anything like it before.

Her heart heavy with rage, she held the book to tear it. But she paused, another idea entering into her mind-one that seemed better.

3

Given it a deep thought, she went out of the room with the book in her hand. When she reached her room, she made a call.

"Good morning, Ms. Astrid." The female voice greeted her.

"Yes, hi. Is Mr. Harry around? I'd like an urgent meeting with him, please."

Mr. Harry was the owner of Timeless Tale Productions-the company Astrid had been trying to sign with for weeks.

"He's actually around, but his schedule is quite tight at the moment," The assistant replied. "Is there a message you'd like to leave for him?"

"Yes. Tell him I understand he said he'll get back to me-even if it's been days-but there are some really cool designs I'd want him to check out. Make him understand that these are unlike anything he's ever seen, and they're definitely going to be a masterpiece for his company." Astrid answered with a smile.

The clock ticked towards evening. Oasis had gotten quiet as most of the offices had closed for the day and guests were forced to leave.

Kage stood outside the room, watching through the large transparent window glass. He wasn't sure that she could tell it was transparent from the outside as from the inside, it wasn't transparent.

"She's only had one glass of milkshake and a doughnut," Raphael, who was standing beside him, noted. "It's been more than ten hours, and she hasn't stopped for a minute to rest."

"It's called a challenge for a reason, Raph. I didn't force her into it." Kage wrinkled his nose as he spoke, his voice edged with irritation.

He watched as she busily moved around in the room, fixing and adjusting things on the dress she had displayed on the mannequin.

She wasn't even halfway yet, and Kage was certain there was no way she would've completed it by morning.

He noticed the weariness in her eyes, how she constantly tapped her forehead. She was clearly exhausted, and it wouldn't take long before she gave in to sleep.

He should feel bad for her, but he felt nothing. Whatever she was passing through couldn't compare to what she had made him go through for the past four years.

He hadn't expected her to accept the challenge in the first place. He had only wanted to tease and and see her give up. But to his surprise, she wanted to act brave. Her funeral. Because she was eas definitely going to lose.

"Keep an eye on her," he instructed Raphael, his eyes still on the window. "Make sure she doesn't get any help, whatsoever."

"I don't think she plans to, anyway," Raphael shrugged.

Kage turned and started walking away.

"What if she surprises you and wins the challenge?" Raphael asked, bringing Kage to a halt.

He turned halfway to stare through the glass. "It's not possible," he answered gruffly, then walked away.

By ten a.m, Kage was at Oasis. After settling into his office, he called for Raphael to get feedback on the lady' in the fashion

room.

Kiss

She only had two hours to the deadline. Kage had been expecting Raphael to call and tell him she quit already.

However, when Raphael arrived his office, he came bearing a different news.

"She's almost done, boss."

Kage concluded he must be joking and went out to see for himself.

Standing in front of the window, his eyes clouded with disbelief

Raphael hadn't been lying. The dress on the mannequin was truly almost ready.

Cleft lines grooved his forehead. How was this possible?