Chapter 229: Urgent Matters Arrived

"As long as you leave some spotlight for me!" Ruby piped up from beside us, turning to me with a fierce, possessive look in her eyes as she grabbed my other arm. "My team literally just messaged me—my new album is officially finished and fully mixed! The launch event is coming up fast, and you have to be there right by my side, Ethan. No excuses!"

Chloe raised a neat eyebrow, looking over her tablet with a smooth, composed smirk. "Don’t hog him entirely, Ruby. My Master’s degree completion is slated for around next month as well. I expect all of us to attend the ceremony and celebrate together."

"Deal," I smiled, looking around at the girls as the car coasted toward the estate. "We’re going to hit every single one of your big milestones."

While we were talking, my phone buzzed in my palm. It was an urgent update from my PA, Sarah.

Since I’d been busy with the household and managing broader moves, Sarah had been quietly overseeing my hidden gem investments behind the scenes—including keeping tabs on Mia, the master horologist I had commissioned to custom-craft my luxury watch for the upcoming Met Gala.

I unlocked the phone and scanned Sarah’s text:

[Boss, urgent update regarding Mia, your watchmaker for the Met Gala piece. She’s just run into a serious situation that she can’t handle on her own. She needs your direct intervention immediately.]

I stared at the screen for a moment, my mind instantly calculating how to use my power and system backing to resolve whatever mess was threatening my horologist.

"Great," I said, putting my phone away. "Looks like I’ve got a quick situation to take care of."

Ruby pouted slightly, but Chloe immediately locked her tablet screen and looked up at me. "I’ll tag along with you," Chloe offered smoothly, adjusting her blazer. "A second pair of eyes never hurts."

"No problem," I nodded.

I had the driver drop May, Ruby, and Patricia off at the estate before redirecting us straight toward the Hidden Gem headquarters.

By the time our car pulled up, the transformation was undeniable. What started as a modest investment hub had rapidly expanded under Sarah’s management. The building looked sleek, fully modernized, and bustling with newly hired staff—creative directors, brand managers, and logistics assistants moving briskly through the glass corridors with purpose.

Chloe walked beside me as we navigated the main creative wing. Up ahead, through a set of frosted glass double doors, I spotted the main atelier.

Inside sat Benita.

She was hunkered over a massive cutting table littered with jagged fabric swatches, heavy leather shears, and sketched blueprints. True to form, her work was completely raw and unapologetically wild—subtle, safe fashion was a concept Benita thoroughly despised.

Right now, she had a tape measure draped over her shoulder and a pair of shears clamped in her hand, leaning so close to the mannequin her forehead was almost touching the fabric.

I pushed the heavy door open. The soft latch click made her snap her head around, her dark eyes sharp and ready to bark at whoever dared interrupt her flow.

The moment her gaze landed on me, the irritation melted off her face instantly. A bright, genuine smile broke out, cutting right through her stressed demeanor.

"Ethan!" she called out, setting the shears down with a heavy clatter and wiping her hands against her apron. "Look who finally decided to drop by!"

Chloe stepped in behind me, taking in the chaotic brilliance of Benita’s studio with an appreciative nod. "Still designing on the edge, I see."

Benita let out a snort, throwing her hands up. "Edge? Please. Safe designs are for boring people. But what are you guys doing here? Don’t tell me you came all the way to Hidden Gem HQ just to watch me tear my hair out over seam lines!"

"It’s good to see you too, Benita," I smiled, stepping fully into the atelier while Chloe leaned against a high work table, observing the organized chaos of the room.

"You have no idea," Benita chuckled, tossing a bundle of raw denim onto the side table. "I’ve been practically living in this studio for three days straight."

She suddenly reached over to a stack of sleek fashion publications on her desk, snatched a heavy, glossy magazine from the top, and flipped through the pages with aggressive speed until she slammed it open in front of us.

"Look at this!" she said, pointing a sharp, red-painted fingernail at a massive double-page spread.

Printed across the pages was a high-resolution shot from our wild exit at the Met Gala—Ruby and I dressed in Benita’s raw, unapologetic UncuT pieces, escaping the red carpet chaos on a bicycle. Ruby was laughing hysterically in the photo, her hands thrown up in pure joy while I steered us right past the flashing cameras of the stunned press core.

"The fashion press went absolutely feral over this," Benita smirked, tapping the page with her knuckle. "The entire industry is calling it the most iconic PR stunt of the decade. They’re hailing me as some kind of rogue mastermind. So tell me the truth, Ethan—did you actually calculate that whole grand bicycle escape, or did you two just totally randomly decide to sprint out of the Met Gala like maniacs?"

I let out a soft laugh, shaking my head. "Completely, totally random. We just wanted to get out of there."

Benita raised an eyebrow, humming thoughtfully as she looked down at the magazine. "Hmm... pure unscripted madness. Honestly? That makes it ten times better. The UncuT label couldn’t have asked for a better moment."

"I have to admit, the coverage did boost UncuT’s brand valuation by three hundred percent overnight," Chloe added smoothly, glancing over the magazine spread with an approving nod.

Before Benita could respond, the heavy glass doors of the atelier slid open with a soft click.

Sarah walked in, her tablet resting firmly against her ribs, her expression sharp and business-like. "Boss," she said, cutting right through the lighthearted atmosphere. "Sorry to interrupt, but we need to address the situation with Mia immediately. Her workshop is right down the hall, and things are getting worse by the minute."

Benita looked between Sarah and me, crossing her arms over her measuring tape. "Wait... what’s going on?"