"You own them?" Julian repeated, his voice cracking on the final syllable. A nervous, dismissive laugh bubbled out of his throat, high-pitched and hollow. "Elena, you're not making any sense. You're a prep cook. You chop my carrots. You reduce my stocks. I am the one who developed the *L'Aura* signa

The morning sun filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows of *Lumière*, casting long, elegant shadows across the imported marble floors. Only twenty-four hours ago, this space had been Julian’s prized domain, a monument to his fragile ego. Now, it was utterly silent, stripped of his presence.

E

The flashbulbs erupted like a localized lightning storm, illuminating the grand facade of the St. Regis Hotel. The Grand Culinary Gala was the absolute pinnacle of the city's high society, an event where fortunes were made, Michelin stars were whispered into existence, and the elite gathered to feas