Hi ♡
°—°
Two days later.
Early morning.
In Bella and Amory's apartment.
The master bedroom was filled with a soft glow slipping in through the heavy white curtains.
Bella was sprawled across the bed, asleep on her stomach, arms stretched out, legs lazily apart like a child. No sign of little Shimo, nor of her husband, Amory.
Moments later, the bathroom door opened quietly, and Amory stepped out wearing dark sleepwear, drying his hair with a towel. Steam still trailed out behind him. He looked refreshed, his face calm, radiant.
He stopped in front of the vanity mirror.
Picked up the hairdryer, ran it through his hair with care, then rubbed a few drops of hair oil between his palms and smoothed it into his neatly arranged blond locks. With the comb, he finished his morning routine with meticulous precision.
Through the mirror's reflection, he glanced at the bed.
A smile came naturally. Bella, surrendered to sleep, looked like a child lost in her own world. Her breathing was steady, her hair a messy halo across the pillow.
But the smile quickly faded with a sigh of sadness.
He knew this peaceful scene would vanish the moment he had to wake her.
Finishing with his hair, he stepped softly toward the bed. Sitting on the edge, he leaned closer to her ear, whispering with a gentle smile:
"Darling… wake up. You have work, or you'll be late."
Bella's lips moved faintly, a murmur of protest. She sluggishly lifted her hand, pressing her face back into the pillow like a child refusing school.
Amory chuckled at her reaction. To him, it was more amusing than bothersome.
Leaning forward, he slid his hands beneath her arms and slowly lifted her upper body, speaking in a playful, theatrical tone:
"Come on, Princess of Laziness… the whole world is waiting for you!"
Bella stirred, her eyes half-open, her voice hoarse with sleep:
"Amory… just five more minutes…"
He shook his head, laughing:
"You said the same thing yesterday. And it turned into fifty minutes."
Her head dropped onto his shoulder as if surrendering, but a faint smile curved her lips.
Amory laughed from the heart, pulled her closer, and said:
"If you insist on sleeping… then I'll just have to carry you, won't I?"
And so, amid giggles and half-hearted resistance, Bella began to wake gradually.
Still holding her, Amory decided to end his little game. Stretching his arms further, he lifted her completely from the bed, cradling her in his arms like a dangling child.
Half-asleep, Bella muttered hoarsely:
"Amory! Put me down… I'm not—"
But he walked steadily toward the bathroom, keeping his theatrical tone:
"No worries, my sleepy princess… we'll take a bath together. Isn't that better?"
Her eyes shot open wider; she stared at him in sleepy shock, swatting his chest to break free:
"No way! No, no, you're crazy!"
Amory tightened his grip, laughing mischievously:
"Too late. The impossible is now reality. We've got a date with hot water."
He reached the bathroom doorway as Bella protested and laughed at once, pushing at his shoulder in vain:
"Amory! Put me down, right now!"
At the threshold, he turned his head as if to share a secret with an "imaginary camera," raising a mischievous blond eyebrow with a sly smile.
Then, with a nudge of his foot, he pushed the door open and stepped in, Bella's voice ringing with playful outrage:
"Nooo! Amory, I swear to God…!"
The door shut behind them with theatrical flair.
•••
Minutes later.
The bathroom door opened. Amory emerged in a white bathrobe, hair still damp, face glowing with triumph.
Right behind him, Bella trudged out in a black bathrobe, a towel wrapped around her head. Her face was bright red, her gaze sharp on him.
Amory (cheerfully, still drying his hair):
"See? Told you it'd be a refreshing morning!"
Bella tightened her robe, biting her lip in embarrassment, sighing with annoyance:
"Amory… you're impossible to deal with…"
Then she tilted her head to the side in defeat, raising her hand as if to declare surrender:
"Hopeless. You're hopeless."
Amory chuckled, leaned in, and planted a quick kiss on her cheek, while she turned her head away, hiding the little smile sneaking out despite herself.
After the playful kiss, Bella leaned against the bed, eyes half-closed, laziness pouring from every move.
Amory, grinning wide:
"My God, do you think you're Sleeping Beauty? Come on, let me take care of you."
Without warning, he bent and scooped her up again effortlessly. She groaned softly:
"Amory… I can walk…"
He shook his head, pretending not to hear:
"No, no. If I leave you, you'll crawl back under the blanket. You've got work today, and I won't let anyone say my dazzling wife is late because she's spoiled too much."
In the Dressing Room.
A large, neatly arranged space, walls lined with clothes, shelves stacked with handbags, rows of shoes. He set her down on the velvet chair in the center, like a child at a school desk.
Amory started browsing racks, muttering like a fashion expert:
"Hmm… no, this is evening wear… today's a work morning… we need something practical, but elegant…"
Bella pouted lazily:
"Pick anything… I don't care…"
Amory spun around sharply:
"Don't care? Darling, everything matters. You're Bella. My wife. A star. The woman who has to shine, even if she just rolled out of bed."
He returned with a carefully curated outfit: a classic white blouse, sleek black vest, white handbag, black high heels, and a few other coordinated pieces. He laid them gently on the chair beside her. Bella glanced at them and smiled again, clearly impressed by his refined taste.
In the Jewelry/Accessories Room.
Amory entered another room like he was stepping into a private museum. He picked out delicate earrings, a subtle necklace, a luxury watch, arranging them neatly on a velvet tray before returning with his "treasure."
Amory, approaching her:
"Alright, my lazy lady, let's get you ready. Lift your hair."
Half smiling, half grumbling, Bella lazily raised her hair. He slipped the earrings and necklace onto her with the care of a personal stylist.
Close-up on Bella's face.
Traces of sleep still lingered, but a shy smile crept in whenever he leaned close.
Amory, fastening the watch around her wrist:
"There you go… all ready, like a schoolgirl I've dressed for class."
Bella covered her face with her hand, laughing softly:
"Amory… you treat me like a child."
Amory dropped to one knee, taking her hand dramatically:
"And I won't stop. Not even when you're twenty years older than me… even then, I'll still dress you every morning."
Bella burst out laughing, stroking his hair fondly—
and the scene closed on that warm, comedic intimacy.
•••
A few minutes later
The camera opens with an overhead shot, following Bella as she descends the wide marble staircase. Her steps are graceful and elegant, each click of her black stiletto heels echoing through the hall like a quiet rhythm.
Her look is flawless: a classic white blouse topped with a fitted black vest, cinched at the waist and adorned with a golden rose-shaped brooch. Her black wide-legged trousers flow lightly with every step. A white handbag swings at her side, with a scarf tied to its handle, adding a subtle flicker of motion.
Behind her, Amory descends with steady, confident strides. His outfit strikes a bold balance between vibrance and style: a bright yellow shirt with open collar, paired with crisp white trousers, a matching jacket, and white shoes with pale yellow soles flashing at each step. In one hand, he carries a sleek white work bag. On his wrist, his smart watch glimmers, while a green sapphire ring flickers mysteriously under the light.
Between their fingers, their wedding rings catch the light — a silent symbol of the vow that binds them.
In the lounge, Nozumaki — the young maid with neatly tied brown hair — bends slightly as she places the last cushion on the couch. She lifts her head, and the moment she sees Bella and Amory, her face brightens with a spontaneous smile. She bows politely:
Nozumaki (soft, slightly nervous):
"Good morning, Miss Bella… Mr. Amory."
Bella adjusts her handbag on her arm with a delicate motion, a gentle smile curling her lips:
"Oh, good morning, dear."
Amory answers in his calm, low voice, his eyes fixed only on Bella:
"Good morning, Nozumaki."
Bella suddenly pauses mid-step, as if remembering something:
"Oh… Nozumaki, did you feed Shimo?"
Nozumaki (stammering lightly, a touch of anxious sweetness on her face):
"Ah… yes, yes, Miss. He finished his breakfast completely."
Bella's radiant smile lights up the room, pure and warm:
"Thank you… you always take such good care of him."
A blush spreads across Nozumaki's cheeks. She quickly lowers her head, her words shy yet sincere:
"It's… it's my duty, Miss Bella. Thank you for your kindness."
The camera lingers on Bella, bowing her head slightly in gratitude, her smile carrying the weight of a precious acknowledgment. Nozumaki's blush deepens, her shy grin growing as if she has just received praise from someone she deeply admires.
The couple move on toward the dining room. Bella's steps remain light, while Amory follows behind, his eyes brimming with quiet admiration, watching her as though it were the first time every morning.
They enter the spacious dining room. The camera glides slowly across the table: steaming coffee, freshly baked bread, carefully arranged breakfast dishes. The calm of a morning about to begin, infused with the warmth of small domestic details.
The camera moves toward the long dining table as the couple sit close together, their shoulders occasionally brushing.
Breakfast is laid out neatly: a cup of steaming coffee before Amory, and a glass of orange juice beside Bella.
They eat in ordinary silence, each absorbed in their phones.
Bella tilts her head slightly to the right, eyes half-closed as she watches a Korean drama on her screen. Her face is fully relaxed, a soft smile flickering whenever something funny happens.
Amory, in contrast, sits upright, shoulders tense, eyes locked on the news playing on his phone. His fingers idly tap a spoon against the plate, though he hardly eats.
On screen: a news anchor with formal features reads a breaking headline, with archival footage of dark buildings and crowded streets behind her.
— "Nearly 500 people have gone missing in Tokyo over the past month — including tourists, civilians, and even politicians and businessmen. While some link the case to the suicide incident inside an abandoned building, the NPA police remain unable to confirm any direct connection. Investigators state this mysterious phenomenon has repeated across the globe 89 times before — and now marks the 90th occurrence. Evidence is still lacking on whether these are organized crimes or simply unexplained natural events…"
The voice fades gradually, echoing in the quiet hall.
The camera drifts to Amory's face: his brows draw together, his expression heavy, breath slowing. He lifts his coffee cup halfway, then stops, appetite gone.
His eyes shift toward Bella.
She's still leaning casually in her chair, legs crossed, absorbed in her drama without lifting her head.
Softly, he asks:
"Bella… Did you hear about it?"
She doesn't turn her head, just arches a brow, answering in a distracted, cool tone while tapping her screen:
"Mmm… yes."
Silence.
The only sounds are the light taps of her fingers and the faint dialogue of her Korean drama bleeding through her earbuds.
Amory's gaze drops. He exhales a deep sigh, shoulders loosening, then slowly returns to his plate. He takes a small, joyless bite, and as though trying to shake off the weight of the news, he switches his phone to a comedy show.
Bright colors and canned laughter flood his screen, breaking the silence with artificial cheer.
Bella drifts in her rosy world, while Amory masks his unease with a faint smile at hollow laughter. The distance between their worlds has never been clearer.
•••
Time skip —
The apartment door closes slowly behind Amory, his voice echoing in the hallway. Bella stands beside him, her bag over her shoulder, a soft morning smile on her lips.
Before they move forward, another lock clicks open. The camera slowly turns toward the opposite door.
The handle twists… the door opens outward.
From inside steps a tall man, broad-shouldered and handsome. His black hair slicked neatly back, his green eyes gleaming beneath the light. His athletic build is clear beneath a fitted black suit. His strides are steady, confident.
The moment Bella sees him, a faint warm smile spreads across her face.
Amory's eyes, by contrast, shift dully toward the door, his expression still, without the slightest spark of interest.
Sebastian notices Bella and tilts his head slightly forward with a composed, professional smile.
His deep voice resonates through the hall:
"Good morning, Miss Bella."
The camera captures Bella lifting her hand lightly, her voice warm and friendly:
"Good morning, Sebastian."
She takes a small step closer to him, asking softly:
"Are you ready for another day of work… and guarding?"
Sebastian smiles faintly, adjusting the button on his black suit jacket. His voice is strong and assured:
"I was born ready, Miss. But… I'm still upset that I couldn't accompany you to Tokyo last month."
Bella closes her eyes for a second, tilting her head gently to the left. Her smile is clear and genuine as she answers in a tender tone:
"It's fine… what matters most is that your mother is well."
Close-up on Sebastian's eyes. His voice softens slightly, his head bowing in respect:
"Thank you… for your usual kindness."
Meanwhile, Amory's features tighten. His brows furrow, his eyes narrow, and his lips part with a barely audible sigh of irritation. His chest rises with a heavy exhale. His expression alone betrays the jealousy burning quietly beneath his calm.
The silence thickens for a moment. Then Bella, with an encouraging smile, raises her hand high in a playful, almost childlike gesture:
"Let's work hard today too!"
She moves first, her steps light, her bag swaying gently at her side.
The camera lingers on the two men, still standing in place.
Sebastian casts a cold, unyielding glance, staring at Amory from head to toe with complete indifference, as if he doesn't even acknowledge his existence.
Amory's eyes trace him from top to bottom as well, his gaze mocking, laced with disgust. His lips curl into a faint, sly smirk.
Both men abruptly shift their gazes forward.
Then, in perfect parallel strides, they begin walking behind Bella, who leads them with steady confidence.
Camera follows from behind: Bella in front, with two men trailing her — their eyes locked in silent conflict, as if a war were raging between them without a single word spoken.
---
Elevator doors close slowly. The metallic sound reverberates in the empty hall. The camera pans inside:
Bella stands in the center, her bag resting by her feet. Her head is tilted slightly forward, eyes fixed on her phone screen. White earbuds in her ears, her face still and absorbed in her show.
Amory stands to her right. His bag sits at his side, hands tucked in the pockets of his white trousers, shoulder leaning casually against the wall. His gaze drifts lazily, as though nothing around him matters.
Sebastian stands on her left. His posture straight and rigid, eyes forward — but every so often, the camera catches a quick sidelong glance toward Bella. A look filled with muted warmth, unseen and unfelt by her.
His inner voice, calm and tinged with sorrow:
"At last… after a whole month, I'm standing beside Miss Bella again."
Flashback: a hazy memory — his mother lying sick in bed, his hand clasped around hers, while Bella stands in the background, offering him a gentle nod of approval for his leave.
His inner voice continues, his eyes softening with emotion:
"I should have been with her in Tokyo… but my mother needed me more. I couldn't leave her. Even if the price was a month away from… my beloved Bella."
Close-up on Bella. She's oblivious, her eyes glimmering with the light of her phone screen, lips twitching with a quiet laugh at a scene in her drama. She brushes a strand of hair from her face absentmindedly.
Close-up on Sebastian's hand. His fist tightens gently as he lowers his gaze.
His inner voice grows heavier, tinged with jealousy:
"But… how can she stand beside this man?"
The camera pans slowly to Amory. He remains indifferent, eyes half-closed as if lost in thought.
Suddenly, he tilts his head slightly toward Bella. A small, warm smile appears on his face.
Bella notices. She lifts her eyes briefly, returning his smile with a soft, instinctive one of her own, before lowering her gaze back to her screen.
Sebastian's eyes widened slightly. He quickly turns his face away, brows knitting as his expression hardens into suppressed disgust. His lips press tightly together.
His inner voice, bitter:
"That fool… he isn't even worthy of speaking her name."
Silence. Only the faint noise of Bella's earphones leaks into the air.
Amory glances sidelong at Sebastian with a cold, disinterested look. Sebastian shifts his gaze away, calm on the surface, but the tension between them sparks like invisible fire.
Sebastian's expression dips, his eyes heavy with quiet sadness as if recalling something painful.
His inner voice, subdued:
"And I will never be hers… Bella's grandmother would never accept me. I'm just a commoner… no wealth, no status. Not like Amory… or her ex-husband."
The elevator trembles slightly as it nears the ground floor.
High-angle shot: Bella in the center, lost in her own world, while on either side of her stand two men — locked in a silent war she cannot hear, yet one that grows fiercer every passing moment.
---
The elevator reaches the lobby.
The bell chimes ding. The doors slide open with a metallic scrape.
Sebastian steps out first, his stride heavy, shoulders stiff.
Amory follows, carrying his bag in one hand, his other hand tucked casually in his pocket, face calm.
Bella lingers briefly, adjusting her earbuds into her bag, then looks up and steps forward with a small, cheerful smile:
"Let's go!"
Camera from the front: Bella walks ahead, her hair swaying with her steps, while the two men fall in behind her.
Amory quickens his pace, sliding smoothly to her side. He leans his head slightly toward her, a gentle smile gracing his face.
Sebastian follows behind them, his steps steady but his brows furrowed, eyes narrowing, lips pressed in silent jealousy.
Amory glances back over his shoulder. His eyes glitter with cold mockery as he sticks his tongue out at Sebastian.
Sebastian's eyes widen briefly before his features twist into silent rage. His clenched teeth grind out a faint hiss: "Tch…"
---
Residential Garage.
Metallic echoes fill the vast space. Rows of cars stand neatly aligned, cold white lights reflecting on the polished floor.
Amory and Bella approach their luxury car — a glossy white Mercedes, windows tinted dark, its sleek lines radiating wealth.
Sebastian heads to his own vehicle: a black, mid-range luxury SUV, resembling a BMW X5M in design but simpler. Not as grand as Amory's Mercedes, yet still respectable.
Amory grips the car door handle and opens it smoothly for Bella, bowing his head slightly like a chivalrous knight.
Bella smiles warmly, leaning toward him to plant a quick kiss on his cheek.
A faint blush spreads across Amory's face. His eyes widen briefly before he lets out a short, shy laugh.
He closes the door gently for her, then jogs lightly to the driver's side and slips in.
Sebastian freezes by his own car, eyes locked on the scene.
Sound of his heartbeat — slow, heavy: thump… thump… thump…
His inner voice, rough with pain:
"How many times must I watch the same scene… and how many times will I wish I were in his place?"
He lowers his head, exhaling a long, weary sigh. "Haaah…" He opens his door and slides in, gripping the wheel tightly.
Amory's white Mercedes roars to life, its deep, luxurious engine filling the garage. Headlights flare as it rolls smoothly toward the exit.
Moments later, Sebastian's black SUV starts up — its hum steadier, less powerful.
Camera from inside his car: his eyes fixed, unblinking, on the rear of Amory's Mercedes.
Outside the garage: two cars emerge one after the other, the shining white luxury car in front, the black SUV trailing behind. Sunlight glints off their roofs as they move into the day.
•••
At Bella's Company [Velora]
The camera slowly tilts upward, revealing three massive square buildings, their glass walls reflecting the midday sky. The company's luxurious logo gleams above the main entrance.
Inside the building
Wide hallways stretch out, the floors made of glossy black marble, while the walls are adorned with touches of turquoise and gold.
The camera stops in front of a massive brown wooden door. At its center, a sleek metal plaque bears elegant letters:
(Office of the Director).
Inside the office
The room is spacious, filled with luxurious furniture harmoniously blending black, turquoise, and gold.
Natural light streams in from a giant window behind the main desk, sheer curtains swaying gently with a soft breeze.
On the sofas by the office walls
Amélie sits gracefully on a luxurious sofa, poised yet confident. She wears a sky-blue suit, faintly shimmering under the light. The classic jacket, edged with pearl trim, adds a touch of elegance. Her legs are crossed with effortless poise, high heels glinting as they swing slightly with her movement.
In her right hand she holds a sheet of paper, while her other hand rests lightly on her thigh. Reclining slightly against the sofa, her chin lifted with confidence, her eyes stayed focused on the page in her hand.
Opposite her sits Bella, leaning forward toward the glass coffee table, papers scattered in front of her. Pen in hand, she writes as though making notes or corrections. A few strands of hair slip along her cheek as she concentrates deeply.
The golden glow from the framed artwork on the walls reflects onto Amélie's paper.
The faint scratching of Bella's pen breaks the calm silence of the room.
Measured breaths fill the quiet — a professional atmosphere steeped in quiet elegance.
Amélie's fingertips brush the edge of the paper, her eyes bright with focus.
Bella presses her pen lightly against the page, brows furrowing briefly — then a small smile appears, as if she's found the solution she was seeking.
The camera glides slowly between Bella and Amélie. Papers scatter across the glass table. The work atmosphere is heavy, yet brimming with determination.
Amélie (lowering the paper slightly, speaking with a firm but calm smile):
"The deadline is close, Bella. Just this week remains before the fashion test at Crystal University next Saturday… are you certain all the arrangements are finished?"
Bella (raising her head, setting down the pen, her voice steady though slightly weary):
"Yes… everything is under control. This time is different, but I'm confident. The students there are exceptional… I want to see how they think outside the usual rules."
Amélie sets the paper aside, resting her chin on her fingers, smiling faintly as though thinking aloud.
Amélie:
"This is the fourth project, isn't it? The first was in London… the second in Milan… the third in Vienna. And now Paris, at Crystal University."
Bella (nodding softly, her tone warmer):
"Exactly. Three successful projects already. Each time I've discovered a talent worth bringing into the light… and now I want to see what the Paris students will create. There's a different energy here — I can feel it."
Amélie chuckles lightly, returning to her paper to jot down a small note.
Amélie:
"You're always searching for the spark… for that one design that screams this is different. I imagine the students will be nervous when they learn Bella LeClair herself will be judging their work."
Bella (smiling with quiet confidence, placing the pen atop her papers and gesturing dramatically with each word):
"Let them be nervous. Creativity is sometimes born under pressure. I don't want just pretty dresses or patterned trousers… I want to see personality, vision, and daring."
The golden light reflected on Bella's face glows as Amélie gazes at her in silent admiration.
Amélie (voice low, almost like a whispered secret):
"Sometimes I think this project isn't just a test for the students… it's a test for you as well."
Bella (closing her eyes briefly, then opening them with a confident smile):
"Maybe… but that's what keeps me going."
As their conversation continues, the sound of papers and Bella's pen fades — replaced by a soft knock at the door.
Bella (lifting her head, her tone calm but authoritative):
"Come in."
The door opens slowly. Sebastian enters with confident strides. His neatly tailored formal attire amplifies his presence. He bows slightly, his green eyes gleaming under the light.
Sebastian (voice deep, polite):
"Miss Bella… Miss Amélie."
Amélie (raising a brow slightly, offering a small diplomatic smile):
"Sebastian… always on time."
Bella (smiling faintly, gesturing toward the empty space beside her sofa):
"Come, sit with us."
Sebastian steps forward and takes a seat beside Bella. A brief silence hangs as his gaze falls to the scattered papers before her, then shifts back — his focus wholly on her.
Bella (handing him some papers):
"We were discussing the upcoming project at Crystal University. I'd like to hear your thoughts too."
Sebastian accepts the papers, skimming them quickly, his expression sharp and serious.
Sebastian:
"Hmm… only a week left, right? That will put a lot of pressure on the students. But… I think that's exactly what you need to select the best. The ones who withstand the pressure are the ones worthy of standing before you."
Amélie (smiling with interest, resting her chin on her hand as she studies him):
"Interesting… it seems you understand more about tests than I expected."
Sebastian (shrugging lightly, his voice calm but filled with confidence):
"When you've guarded someone like Bella for years, you learn that pressure doesn't kill… it reveals true character."
Bella's lips curve into a small smile. She tilts her head slightly, as though his words touched her.
Bella (looking directly at him, her tone warm):
"Exactly… that's what I want. Design isn't just fabric and colors… it's resilience, vision, the ability to stand out in the chaos."
Sebastian (leaning forward slightly, voice more intense):
"So you'll be looking for the student who doesn't break under scrutiny — the one unafraid to stand in front of you. That will be the winner."
Amélie (laughing softly, cutting in):
"Seems Sebastian has just summed up your philosophy, Bella, in a single sentence."
Bella lifts her shoulders in a casual shrug, then the trio quietly resumes their work together.
•••
Half an hour later.
The clock nears 1:00 PM.
The office atmosphere is relatively calm—scattered papers, scratching pens, and fragmented conversations between Bella, Amélie, and Sebastian.
Suddenly, the office door bursts open, its echo bouncing across the spacious room.
Amory strides in dramatically, holding several bags of fancy food in one hand. His voice rings out:
Amory (with theatrical excitement):
"My wiiife! I've arrived!"
The camera cuts to Bella. Her eyes widen for a split second before a broad grin spreads across her face. She shoots up from her seat and answers in the same playful, dramatic tone:
Bella (raising her hand high):
"My husband has come!"
She runs toward him with light, childlike steps. Halfway, they meet.
Close-up shot—their fingers intertwine lightly as they begin their "secret greeting": quick finger gestures, a shared clap, then a small jump and a chest bump with a loud comedic BOOOM!
For a moment, they look stunned, like kids again, then burst out laughing.
Amory (leaning forward, eyes sparkling):
"I missed you so much! So, I brought us a little feast… all your favorites!"
Bella (placing her hands on her cheeks, her voice overly dramatic):
"Really?! Oh my God, my heart can't handle this much love!"
She leaps forward and hugs him tightly. Amory catches her effortlessly, spinning her around twice, his booming laugh filling the room:
Amory (laughing wholeheartedly):
"Hahaha! My precious Bella!"
Cut to the far side of the office.
Amélie sits on the couch, glancing at them without interest, lazily flipping through papers. She raises an eyebrow and mutters under her breath:
"The usual drama… nothing new."
But Sebastian is entirely different. A vein pulses at his temple, his breathing quickens.
He grips a pen tightly in his right hand, fingers trembling from the pressure.
Amélie (still focused on her papers, extending her hand without looking):
"Uuh… Sebastian, hand me the pen, please."
Sebastian squeezes harder… then CRAACK!
The pen snaps in two, ink spilling across his fingers.
Amélie finally looks up, her eyes widening in dismay. She stares at the broken pen with mock sorrow.
Amélie (half-sarcastic, half-sad):
"…It was brand new."
---
The clock now passes 2:00 PM.
The large table in front of the couch is crowded with takeout bags and fast food:
Two bottles of soda, two bottles of water.
A massive chicken burger.
Crispy fried chicken pieces.
A huge plate of French fries drowned in ketchup and mayo.
Two cups of ice cream—one pure chocolate, the other chocolate and vanilla.
The camera zooms in on Bella and Amory, sitting close together on the couch, eating fries drenched in sauce like it's a royal banquet.
Bella (giggling as she takes a fry):
"You know… this food is so unhealthy. And yet, I can never resist it."
Amory (smiling as he feeds her a fry):
"Even if it's unhealthy… It makes you smile. And that's enough for me."
He pauses, watching her closely. His tone drops, more serious now:
Amory:
"But tell me… are you really going to continue working on next week's project?"
Bella (grabbing her soda bottle, nodding with quiet confidence):
"Yes, of course."
Amory (leaning back, his voice softening further):
"And will you use the new student… in the same way?"
Bella freezes for a moment before opening the bottle. Her gaze stays fixed forward, not at him.
The faint click of the cap breaks the silence.
Slowly, she turns to him, a radiant yet oddly unsettling smile on her lips.
Bella (eerily calm):
"Why not? In the end, they'll agree… just like the others."
She takes a cool sip, as if nothing unusual was said.
Amory stares at her for a long moment, doubt clouding his eyes, before lowering his gaze back to the food.
He picks up a piece of chicken, but pauses half a second before taking a bite.
Bella breaks the silence again, her voice casual:
Bella (still eating carelessly):
"Oh… and please, don't come to pick me up today. I'll go with Amélie."
Amory's expression freezes. He tries to fake indifference, but fails.
His smile fades slowly, replaced by a quiet sadness.
He sets the chicken down, barely touching the rest of the meal.
His silence speaks louder than words.
•••
In the Broceliande Forest – Midnight
The camera descends through thick branches, where a half-moon barely filters its light into the depths below.
As the angle slowly lowers toward the ground… the darkness reveals a massive metallic entrance hidden deep within the forest, a gate leading into an underground warehouse.
Faint red lights pulse through the area, flashing slowly like beating hearts, making the concrete walls appear even more terrifying.
The air is suffocating… laced with a thin mist, heavy with the stench of rust and old blood.
In the main corridor.
A full line of shackled people walks slowly forward, dressed in tattered orange uniforms, their heads covered with black sacks. Their steps stumble, and the sound of metal chains echoes beneath their feet—clack… clack… clack…
On both sides of the corridor, the guards stand:
— Dressed in full black suits.
— Masks with grotesque clown-likefeatures, painted in white and black, smeared with wide, blood-red smiles.
— Some carry automatic weapons, others wield electric batons, faint eerie laughter drifting between them as if part of some ritual.
Above, more guards in the same attire watch from the metal platforms.
And at the center of the stage, a figure unlike the rest appears…
— Wearing a long black coat, concealing the shape of his body.
— White gloves on his hands, marked in the center with a blood-red rose.
— In his right hand, a long black cane adorned with a golden ornament shaped like a lily of the valley.
The camera closes in—only his mouth.
His lips painted in striking colors:
— The upper lip, dark blue.
— The lower lip, crimson red.
A cold, sinister smile carved across his face, glowing in the red light as though torn from a nightmare.
The moment pauses when a guard approaches from behind.
He leans close to the leader's ear, whispering something cryptic.
A metallic, chilling voice:
"…Sir, the time has come."
The leader remains silent, then… his smile stretches wider, unnaturally, almost inhuman.
A muffled laugh seeps from his throat, swelling until it fills the entire space.
The camera locks onto that horrifying smile—then suddenly, the scene cuts to complete darkness.
To be continued…
I apologize for not publishing the chapter on the scheduled day—I had a valid reason 😌
My mom was sick 😭 and had to go to the hospital 😞 so I was busy accompanying her, visiting, and helping her… etc.
Because of that, I couldn't write during those days, and I even missed school 😀😁
Anyway… the chapter is finally ready and I published it today ✨
I hope you enjoy it! And I want you to awaken the Detective Conan inside you 🕵️♂️ so you can understand and analyze the past, present, and upcoming events in all the chapters 😃
See you on Monday (I think 😕).