The attendants packed the last of the chosen ensembles with reverence, garments folded into lacquered cases as though they were relics. Elias remained where he stood, red socks still a mockery at his ankles, glasses glinting as he watched the silent choreography around him.
Victor rose only when the final case clicked shut, the black ring catching in the light with every unhurried movement. He adjusted the cuff of his jacket with the ease of a man who had already declared the day a victory. "We're finished here," he said, and the attendants bowed like they'd been dismissed from a war council.
Elias tugged at the sleeve of the jacket he still wore, mouth pressing into a thin line. The suit was flawless, the fit obscene, but his silence carried more defiance than argument. He let Victor guide him out of the VVIP suite, his hand firm at the small of Elias's back, a gesture that told the staff and the polished marble halls alike whose omega walked beside him.
