Elyse's designs were a dynasty—couture, sportswear, green fabrics. Her shows fused tech, her scientist's holograms dancing. She dressed presidents, her investor's wealth funding schools. Her scholar's talks tied fashion to freedom, her doctor's heart clothing the needy.
A rival smeared her. Elyse's hacker skills proved their theft, her investor's moves buying their label. She redesigned it, her designer's vision soaring. Julian planned their wedding, her gowns its stars. "You're my art," he said.
She laughed. "And you're my muse."
Her scientist's fusion powered grids, her scholar's laws protected it. A cartel hit her institute. Elyse's mafia retaliated, her hacker skills leaking their plans. She offered mercy; they refused. Her enforcers ended it.
Alistair's gala crowned her return. Elyse's gown—gold, alive—stunned. The world saw her—doctor, hacker, designer, investor, mafia queen, scholar, scientist. Julian whispered, "Marry me soon."
She nodded, locket warm. Her identities were her legacy, love her future.