Casa de Costura Reyes, ranked third among the most prestigious fashion houses in the world, stood as a beacon of opulence and craftsmanship.
Adrian narrated to Luca it was established over six decades ago, and since then, they've always maintained their synonymous nature to sophistication and impeccable garments that redefine elegance.
Their client list was very impressive with one of their most notable patrons being the President of the United Arab Emirates himself. He would often don their custom-tailored ensembles during international summits and state affairs.
Their branches were in London, Madrid, Milan, Dubai, Paris and a few more. This made Luca wonder how far Mrs. Hawthorne's networking must be since she owned such a prestigious house.
In fact, one of their most legendary creations was the "Aurora Noir" suit, unveiled five years ago. It was designed using rare vicuña wool blended with silk spun from golden spider threads, and it featured hand-stitched platinum-thread embroidery on the lapels.
Adrian explained that the masterpiece was adorned with discreet diamond accents. This made Luca less surprised when he added it was sold for an astounding $4.3 million, making it one of the most expensive suits ever created.
Today, they had driven to their Parisian atelier which was a historic 19th-century building far bigger than Armand Lavelle's own headquarters in Paris as well.
Coincidentally, when they arrived at the place and were exiting their ride, a small fleet of black cars with mirror flags rolled into the lot. The owner of the fashion mansion before them had just arrived.
Adrian immediately strode toward the middle car, where Mrs. Hawthorne and his younger brother, Henry, were stepping out. Mrs. Hawthorne's keen eyes quickly spotted Luca, Sophia, and Sara standing near the entrance, and her face broke into a warm smile as she approached them.
"Is this your sister?!" she exclaimed, her thick British accent rolling off every syllable as she gently took Sophia's hand.
"Yes," Luca and Sophia answered simultaneously, their voices overlapping awkwardly.
Mrs. Hawthorne tilted her head slightly, studying Sophia with a gleam of approval in her eyes. "Oh, my," she murmured, looking over at her son. "We might as well cross out any other suitors, don't you think?"
Everyone laughed, except Adrian, whose cheeks reddened instantly. He sighed and groaned, "Mother, let's just get inside. We're here for fittings, not matchmaking."
"Don't be so dramatic, darling," Mrs. Hawthorne said before gesturing toward the grand doors. "Come along, now. I'll see my champion gets the best treatment."
With Mrs. Hawthorne leading the way, they were ushered past the sparsely crowded atelier floor into a grand, private section reserved for the most esteemed clients. The space was adorned with ornate gold accents, high ceilings, and crystal chandeliers that reflected the luxury of Casa de Costura Reyes.
A distinguished man, impeccably dressed in a velvet suit, greeted them with a deep bow. "Madam Hawthorne, always an honor," he said warmly.
She exchanged pleasantries before gesturing toward Luca. "And do you know who this young man is?" she asked.
The man nodded immediately, extending his hand to Luca. "I do, madam. Welcome, Mr. Rennick. My son follows Squadra Junior closely—though I must admit, he wasn't too pleased with Saturday's result. Congratulations, regardless."
Luca chuckled as he accepted the handshake. "Thank you. This is my sister and my assistant," he added, gesturing to Sophia and Sara.
Mrs. Hawthorne, now comfortably seated nearby with her younger son, spoke up again. "See to it that they receive the absolute best, as always."
The man straightened with a nod. "Naturally, madam," he said, clapping his hands. A group of tailors quickly appeared, ready to assist.
Turning back to Luca, the man smiled. "Now, let's hear exactly what you'll be needing."
Luca was here mainly for two pairs of suits he needed to get quickly ahead of the dinner night he was invited to. Other customizations could come later since they already had his measurements on record.
He also wanted to ensure Sophia had fine attires—somethings befitting her new environment at an opulent school where blending in would mean wearing well-tailored suits and elegant formal dresses.
Luca's measurements were consistent with those at Lavelle, though the tailor here made slight adjustments—a half-inch reduction in his chest measurement and a small increase in his arm length. The precision was admirable, showing how seriously they took their craft.
For Sophia, her measurements were carefully taken as she stood with her arms lightly outstretched. Her waist measured 24 inches, complemented by a bust of 32 inches and a hip measurement of 35 inches. Her inseam was 31 inches, and the tailor noted her fine frame, recommending cuts that would enhance her elegance without overwhelming her proportions.
"How do I look?" Sophia asked, twirling lightly in a gown she had tried on just for fun.
Luca glanced at her from head to toe, eyebrows slightly raised. "That doesn't look like anything you'd wear to school. Not even for a date," he remarked.
Sophia pouted. "What if I get invited to a ball?"
"Are you planning to keep a dress gathering dust until then?" he shot back.
"What do you mean, Luca? She looks stunning, doesn't she, Adrian?" Mrs. Hawthorne chimed in with an amused tone.
Adrian, leaning against the arm of a chair, muttered, "It's a 10/10 dress, mother. Most girls would look beautiful in it."
Mrs. Hawthorne smiled warmly at Sophia. "Don't fret, dear. You can take it."
Luca frowned, unsure whether "you can take it" implied Mrs. Hawthorne intended to pay for the dress. He certainly wasn't about to—Sophia didn't need a princess-like gown for studying a law-related course.
"Is she accompanying you to the dinner?" Mrs. Hawthorne asked as Luca adjusted a coat suit he was trying on.
"Yes," he replied curtly, checking the fit in the mirror.
"Alright then, Sophie, find another dress of your choice," Mrs. Hawthorne encouraged.
"Thank you!" Sophia exclaimed before turning to Sara. "Could you help me pick one out?"
"Of course," Sara said, rising from her seat to follow Sophia toward the wardrobes.
Luca, unimpressed by the gown selection spree, turned to Mrs. Hawthorne. "What about you? Will you be attending? Are you part of any club yet?"
Before she could respond, two men and a woman, all dressed in black, entered and whispered something to her. She nodded, replying smoothly before refocusing on Luca. "Not yet, darling. I'm still new to this game, and I want to make the right connections. These things take time."
Luca adjusted the cuffs of his coat, smoothing out any wrinkles and pulling the collar just so. He gave a final tug to the sleeves, making sure the fit was just right. Then he turned to face everyone. "Okay... How does this look on me?"
Mrs. Hawthorne, her fingers gently running through Harry's hair, glanced up and smiled. "What do you think, Spot?" she asked, addressing Harry with his nickname.
"He looks like a detective," Harry said, eyes wide as he admired Luca. He'd always seen Luca as his best formula driver, but now Luca had that mysterious, sharp look about him.
Luca chuckled, nodding in approval. "Detective, huh? I'll take it."
Adrian gave his assessment. "I like it, Luca. You look great."
Mrs. Hawthorne looked behind her at the three figures standing guard—two men in sleek black suits and one woman, all sharp-eyed and alert. "What do you think of the coat?" she asked. "I think it really highlights his shoulders and his height."
Man 1, "He looks great, madam."
Woman, "It's a mature dress code. Perfect for winter."
Man 2, standing quietly to the side, gave a brief but approving nod. "It is great."
Mrs. Hawthorne beamed, clearly satisfied with the response. "Could you put a scarf around your neck as well?"