The late afternoon sun cast golden streaks across the bustling city streets as Reyna pulled Lyndsey through the discreet door of a boutique tucked between two towering buildings. The heavy wooden door closed behind them, shutting out the noise of the world and enveloping them in an ambiance that was both elegant and intimate.
Lyndsey blinked, her eyes adjusting to the dim, sultry lighting. The boutique was exquisite, lined with plush velvet curtains, antique mirrors, and displays of corsets that ranged from delicate and feminine to bold and commanding. The faint scent of lavender and leather filled the air, wrapping her in an unexpected sense of calm.
Reyna grinned, her eyes glinting with amusement as she took in Lyndsey’s wide-eyed expression. “Welcome to Maison Lacroix,” she said, her voice low and conspiratorial. “The best corsetier in the city—and maybe the world.”
Lyndsey turned to Reyna, her brows lifting in disbelief. “A corsetier? I thought we were going for lunch.”
“This is better,” Reyna said with a shrug, already making her way to the counter. “Trust me.”
Before Lyndsey could protest further, a tall, striking woman emerged from behind the counter. She moved with the grace of a dancer, her tailored black dress hugging her figure as she approached with a warm, knowing smile.
“Reyna,” the woman greeted, her voice a velvety purr. “It’s been too long.”
“Lucille,” Reyna replied, leaning in to kiss the woman’s cheeks. “I brought a friend today. She’s in desperate need of your magic.”
Lyndsey bristled, crossing her arms. “I wouldn’t say desperate.”
Lucille’s sharp eyes appraised Lyndsey, taking in her simple blouse and jeans. There was no malice in her gaze, only curiosity and a hint of challenge. “Desperation has nothing to do with it,” Lucille said smoothly. “The right corset isn’t about need—it’s about power. Shall we get started?”
Lyndsey hesitated, feeling a mix of intrigue and apprehension. “I don’t know. This isn’t really my thing.”
Reyna rolled her eyes, placing a firm hand on Lyndsey’s back and steering her toward a velvet chaise lounge. “Relax. It’s not about whether it’s your thing—it’s about trying something new. Besides, you might surprise yourself.”
Lucille clapped her hands lightly, summoning an assistant who appeared seemingly out of nowhere. The younger woman, dressed in a simple black dress, carried a tray with measuring tapes, pins, and swatches of luxurious fabric.
“Let’s begin with measurements,” Lucille said, gesturing for Lyndsey to stand.
Lyndsey glanced at Reyna, who arched a brow as if daring her to back out. With a resigned sigh, Lyndsey stood, feeling awkward as the assistant circled her with a measuring tape, murmuring numbers that Lucille noted down with a graceful flourish.
“What exactly is the point of this?” Lyndsey asked, her tone tinged with skepticism.
Reyna leaned back against the chaise, her arms crossed. “The point, Lyndsey, is confidence. A good corset doesn’t just cinch your waist—it reminds you of your strength, your poise. It’s armor, but it’s also art.”
“Spoken like a true connoisseur,” Lucille said with a pleased smile. She motioned for the assistant to retrieve a selection of corsets. “Now, let’s find the perfect piece to showcase your unique beauty.”
Lyndsey felt heat rise to her cheeks. “I’m not sure I have anything worth showcasing.”
Reyna snorted. “Please. You’ve been catching Jake’s eye for weeks. Trust me, he already knows what’s worth showcasing. This is just so you can see it, too.”
The assistant returned with an array of corsets, each one more stunning than the last. There was a delicate ivory one adorned with lace, a bold crimson piece with black leather accents, and a sleek midnight blue corset with intricate embroidery that caught the light.
Lucille held up the midnight blue corset, her eyes sparkling. “This one. It’s strong yet elegant, just like you.”
Lyndsey hesitated, her fingers brushing the cool satin. “I don’t know…”
Reyna stood, her tone firm but encouraging. “You’ve faced down armed men, survived explosions, and outwitted one of the most dangerous criminals in the world. You can handle a corset.”
With a mix of reluctance and curiosity, Lyndsey allowed Lucille and the assistant to guide her into a private fitting room. The corset felt heavy in her hands, but as Lucille began lacing it around her waist, Lyndsey was struck by the craftsmanship—the way it hugged her curves without feeling restrictive, the subtle strength in every stitch.
When Lucille finished, she stepped back, her smile widening. “Magnifique.”
Lyndsey turned to the mirror, and her breath caught. The corset transformed her silhouette, accentuating her figure in ways she hadn’t thought possible. The midnight blue fabric shimmered softly, the embroidery catching the light. She looked… different. Strong. Confident.
Reyna’s voice came from the other side of the door. “Come on, let’s see it!”
Lyndsey hesitated before stepping out, her cheeks flushed. Reyna’s eyes widened slightly, and for once, she seemed at a loss for words.
“Well?” Lyndsey asked, fidgeting under her gaze. “Is it that bad?”
Reyna shook her head, a slow smile spreading across her face. “It’s perfect. You look… incredible.”
Lucille nodded in agreement, her tone reverent. “A true vision.”
Lyndsey turned back to the mirror, studying her reflection. She didn’t just look different—she felt different. More assured, more in control. The strain of the past weeks seemed to lift, replaced by a quiet resolve.
“Jake’s going to lose his mind,” Reyna said with a smirk.
Lyndsey laughed softly, a spark of confidence flickering to life. “Maybe he will.”
As Lucille made final adjustments, Lyndsey found herself smiling. The corset wasn’t just a piece of clothing—it was a reminder that she was capable of more than she’d ever realized. And as she left the boutique with Reyna, the weight of the box in her arms felt less like a burden and more like a promise. A promise to herself—and maybe, just maybe, to Jake.