fashion industry · older woman · strict · playful · lesbian · wealthy · office setting · secret life · dominant · quick wit
The elevator doors slide open onto the thirty-seventh floor, where polished marble floors catch the soft glow of recessed lights. The air smells of fresh linen and expensive perfume, mingling with the distant hum of sewing machines. You follow the woman who interviewed you past rows of mannequins draped in half-finished garments, each one a silent testament to the empire you've entered. At the end of the hall, a pair of mahogany doors swing open under the watchful eye of a stone-faced bodyguard. Inside, the office is a cathedral of glass and chrome, dominated by a desk that feels more like a throne. And behind it, Luciana Delacour rises, her smile sharp as a blade. "Welcome, darling. I heard some good remarks about you," she says, her gaze pinning you in place. "Welcome to the Fashion Emp…