The scent of metal, polish, and the faintest trace of jasmine filled the air of Gie's studio.It was a vast, high-ceilinged space—half sanctuary, half battleground.
Every inch of it was curated for her craft: antique wooden workbenches covered in trays of gemstones, magnifying glasses, sketches pinned to boards, and unfinished pieces waiting for their final touch. One wall was lined with glass cases, displaying past creations she kept for her private collection—pieces too beautiful to part with, even for royalty. Opposite those were rows of tiny drawers, each labeled with the name of a stone or metal: Alexandrite, Onyx, Moonstone, White Gold, Platinum, Tanzanite.
Gie stood before one of the drawers now, fingers brushing over velvet pouches of stones, her mind already designing something new before she even knew what it was for. She had just finished a royal commission, and while the satisfaction lingered, the itch to create was already creeping in.
A soft chime broke the quiet.
She turned to her desk, where her sleek laptop sat surrounded by cluttered sketches and notes. Clicking open her inbox, she scanned the latest message.
From: Alexander Millers
Her breath hitched—then she scoffed, shaking her head. Of course.
Alexander Millers. A name that carried equal parts power and scandal. A billionaire in the adult industry, his empire spanned luxury clubs, high-end escort services, and investments in the world's most profitable, pleasure-driven ventures. He was indulgence personified—a man of excess, infamy, and obscene wealth.
He was also her best client.
Gie had never spoken to him in person, never exchanged more than a handful of polite emails. And yet, he was the only client who never questioned her designs, never requested changes, never imposed a budget. Every woman who spent time on his arm eventually walked away with a custom piece from Gie—bracelets that shimmered like liquid gold, diamond pendants shaped like whispers, rings that looked like they belonged to empresses.
His commissions were always extravagant. Always for someone else.
But this request was different.
Her eyes scanned the message again, disbelief flickering across her face.
Gie,Another commission. This time, something for a man.The details are up to you. No limits. Make it a masterpiece.You know where to send the invoice.—Alexander
She leaned back in her chair, raising a brow.
For a man?
That was new.
She, like everyone else, had assumed Alexander Millers lived his life draped in women and little else. His taste was exquisite and evident in the diamond-studded collars and custom cuffs he had gifted his lovers. But this… Was it for himself? Or for someone else?
Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, then tapped a quick response.
Alexander,Consider it done.—Gie
She never asked questions. That was one of the reasons he liked working with her.
But as she shut the laptop, her mind was already racing—ideas sketching themselves in the air before they could touch paper.
She moved toward the gemstone section of the studio, a long table lit by soft, overhead lights. Gently, she slid open a few velvet-lined drawers, her fingers grazing the surfaces as she thought about the man behind the order.
For Alexander, nothing delicate. Nothing traditional.
A piece meant for him—or someone in his world—had to exude power. Wealth. Command.
Platinum. Or perhaps black gold—rare, dark, dangerous-looking.
And for the stone… not diamonds. Too safe. Too expected.
Her fingers paused over a deep blue sapphire, its surface catching silver in the light. Regal. Cold. Beautiful.
But no. Not quite right.
Then a flash of red caught her eye—garnet.
Now that was more like it.
A stone of desire. Passion. Indulgence. The kind of stone that whispered wealth with a darker edge. A predator's jewel.
She picked it up, turning it in her hand, the surface smooth and rich, like blood frozen in time.
Yes. This would be the heart of the piece.
She sat down, pulled her sketchpad toward her, and let the pencil glide. The design came quickly—bold, structured. A thick-banded ring with intricate carvings. Or maybe a cuff, one that would catch the low light of a penthouse lounge and still demand attention.
She imagined it on his hand.
Pressed against a drink. Adjusting a cufflink. Glinting beneath the sleeve of an expensive suit.
And then she stopped.
Exhaled sharply.
Pressed the eraser to the paper, as if that would erase the thought from her mind.
What the hell was she doing, thinking about him like that?
Gie rolled her eyes at herself, trying to shake the strange feeling tightening in her chest.
Alexander Millers was just a client. A name behind wire transfers big enough to fund a small country.
It didn't matter what he looked like.
She had seen pictures, of course—impossible not to, when his face flooded tabloids, online gossip columns, and glossy magazine covers.
He was the kind of man who made women ruin themselves. The kind who could unravel someone with a single look and a half-smile.
Dark blond hair, always slightly tousled. A jawline sharp enough to cut glass. Cheekbones carved like they were built for shadows. And those storm-gray eyes, piercing even through the lens of a camera.
Dangerous. Beautiful.
Gie exhaled through her nose and turned back to the sketch.
She had a commission to finish.
And if she was curious—just a little—as to why Alexander Millers suddenly wanted something for a man...
Well.
That was none of her damn business.