Zola had felt a cold shiver run down her spine. "But why? What is he hiding?"

"That's the thing," Ariane had replied, her voice almost a whisper. "No one knows. Not Clara, not anyone. All we know is that the Hek family's power isn't just due to their accomplishments—it's because of Gerald. He doesn't just protect them; he shields them in ways that defy explanation. He's a man who could make the entire world forget you ever existed, and you'd never even see it coming."

After that conversation, Zola had tried to gauge Gerald's character by asking Beck and Aleara. But to them, he was simply their grandfather—a stern man, but ultimately a caring one. They had even joked that the real scary one was Abigail, something Zola could agree with, given the stories she'd heard about Abigail's military achievements. But Gerald remained an enigma, a shadow cast over the Hek family, shrouded in a secrecy that no one dared penetrate.

Now, as she mulled over her thoughts, her bracelet pinged with a message from her father.

"Hey Z, there's a fashion show tonight. I was thinking you could come with your friends and have a good time here," the text read.

Zola smiled, deciding it was the perfect excuse to spend more time with her new friends—and Vas. She quickly sent out invites, and to her delight, everyone agreed.

Vas had been speaking with his grandfather about leaving for a while, wanting to slip away before running into Arthur. Just as the conversation was getting tense, his phone buzzed with a message. Before he could read it, Gerald had already moved behind him, peering over his shoulder at the text. After reading it, much to Vas's dismay, Gerald nodded and told him to go.

"Even after what happened last time?" Vas asked, a flicker of hesitation in his voice.

Gerald's expression remained unreadable as he shrugged. "I still have people following everyone. If anything happens, my people will keep everyone safe."

That was all the reassurance Vas needed. If Gerald's people were keeping an eye on them, it was almost impossible that anything would go wrong. Resigned, Vas agreed to go out with his siblings again, though he couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that lingered. Gerald's presence was always unsettling—he was the kind of man who knew things others didn't, who saw threats before anyone else did. And even though he spoke casually, there was something about him that hinted at a depth of knowledge and power that few could fathom.

Vas approached Jacob, who was deep in conversation with Tessa and Lynn. He wished the girls good luck with their Unveiling ritual that night and said his goodbyes to his brother before heading outside. The others were already waiting, with Zola's family car ready to take them to the fashion show.

As they settled into the car, Carmilla's curiosity couldn't be contained any longer. She turned to Zola, eyes alight with interest. "So, Zola, what's this fashion show we're going to?"

Zola, ever composed and stylish in her outfit that radiated confidence, responded with a hint of pride, "It's my dad's show."

Beck, sitting close enough to feel the warmth of her presence, leaned in, clearly intrigued by more than just the answer. "Who's your dad, Zola?"

Zola's lips curled into a playful smirk. "Oh right, you guys only know his last name. Well, technically our mom's last name since Dad doesn't want us connected to his."

Victor, sensing an opportunity to tease, added, "Not answering our question, Zola."

Before she could reply, Kairo, who had been quietly observing, spoke up from the backseat, "His name is Hugo."

Carmilla's reaction was instant, her excitement palpable. "Hugo? Like the famous designer Hugo?" she practically squealed, barely able to contain herself.

Zola rolled her eyes, though the amusement was clear in her voice. "And that's why we don't use his last name or talk about who he is too often."

"Who is Hugo?" Amy asked, looking a bit lost amidst the sudden excitement.

Carmilla, still buzzing with enthusiasm, explained, "Hugo is one of the most successful designers in the world. Getting into one of his shows is almost impossible, and he only works with the best materials."

Victor chuckled, offering a half-apology. "Sorry if my sister's going full fan girl. She loves fashion."

"Not just her," Beck chimed in, his smile lingering on Zola. "Aleara's also a big fan of his work."

Aleara, who had been silent up to this point, nodded, her eyes wide with surprise. "Wait," Amy interrupted, "if he's so famous, how come you didn't recognize him at the Hek house? And how come Gerald didn't recognize him?"

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"He's never shown his face," Aleara replied, her voice thoughtful. "He's like a mystery. He moves cities a lot, which makes sense if Zola's mom works for the government."

"So, nobody knows who he is?" Amy asked, clearly puzzled.

"No, but our grandfather probably did," Vas said quietly, drawing all eyes to him.

The skepticism in Beck's voice was obvious as he challenged, "Come on, if he never shows his face and moves a lot, how would our grandfather know who he was?"

Vas's reply was measured, but it carried an air of understanding that seemed foreign to the others. "You're underestimating our grandfather. He wasn't joking when he said nothing happens to a member of the Hek family without him knowing."

The statement lingered, adding a new layer to the already mysterious figure of Gerald Hek. For Vas, it was a reminder of the widening gap between what he knew and what remained hidden. Despite being Gerald's grandson, Vas realized how little he truly understood about the man. Gerald's influence was pervasive, his presence a constant shadow, yet the more Vas tried to grasp who he was, the more elusive his grandfather became.

Zola, ever inquisitive and fashionable, found her thoughts drifting back to Vas. She was curious about what he might know—or perhaps what he didn't—about Gerald. While Beck, sitting beside her, tried his best to keep her attention on him, asking questions about the fashion show, complimenting her outfit, and making small talk, Zola's mind kept circling back to the enigmatic figure that was Gerald Hek. Beck's efforts, though earnest, struggled to compete with the allure of the mystery surrounding Vas's grandfather.

As the car drew closer to the fashion show's location, the conversation among the group grew more animated, everyone buzzing with anticipation. But for Zola, the excitement of the evening was tempered by her growing interest in the secrets that Vas might hold, even as Beck continued his attempts to capture her attention. The dynamic between them was a silent tug-of-war, with Vas's connection to Gerald acting as the unseen force pulling Zola's thoughts away from the glitz and glamour of the event they were about to attend.

As the car glided to a stop in front of the venue, the group stepped out into a scene straight out of a dream. The fashion show was set in one of the most luxurious buildings in the city—a towering structure of shimmering glass and sleek metal, with an entrance lined by holographic displays showcasing models adorned in the latest designs. The entire area was illuminated with soft, ambient lights that danced across the walls, creating an otherworldly atmosphere.

The moment they stepped onto the walkway, they were greeted by a sea of people, all dressed to the nines in futuristic attire. The crowd buzzed with excitement, and the air was filled with a mix of anticipation and awe. Drones hovered overhead, capturing every moment from above, their tiny cameras reflecting the glittering lights of the venue. Attendees entered through a grand archway made of translucent material that pulsed with colors, guiding them toward the entrance.

Inside, the opulence was even more striking. The walls were made of shifting panels that displayed abstract art one moment and flowing, cascading waterfalls the next. The floors were a pristine white, with soft lights embedded beneath the surface, creating the illusion of walking on air. The ceiling was a massive, transparent dome, revealing the starry night sky above, enhanced by a soft digital overlay of constellations and moving planets, adding to the venue's ethereal quality.

As they made their way through the throngs of fashion enthusiasts, Beck stayed close to Zola, trying to engage her in conversation. "This place is incredible, right? I've never seen anything like it," he remarked, his eyes wide with amazement. "Your dad really knows how to put on a show."

Zola smiled politely, her gaze shifting around the room. "He does," she agreed, though her mind was still on Vas and the mysterious Gerald. Her father's event was a spectacle, but Zola couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to uncover.

Vas, walking slightly ahead of the group, took in the surroundings with a detached interest. He appreciated the grandeur but was more focused on keeping an eye on everyone, a habit drilled into him by years of his grandfather's influence. Gerald's words about nothing happening to a Hek without his knowledge echoed in his mind, making him wonder just how much of this event was being observed, controlled, or even manipulated by his grandfather.

Carmilla and Aleara were enthralled by the event, pointing out details of the venue and discussing the latest fashion trends, while Victor and Amy stayed close, taking in the sights. The group finally reached the main hall, a vast space dominated by a runway that seemed to stretch endlessly into the distance. The seats were arranged in concentric circles around the runway, with each row elevated slightly higher than the last, ensuring everyone had a perfect view of the show.

Zola glanced at Vas, hoping to catch his attention, but he seemed lost in thought, his eyes scanning the room as if searching for something—or someone. Beck, noticing her distraction, leaned in closer. "Zola, I've been meaning to ask—what's it like having a famous designer as a dad? It must be amazing, right?"

"It has its perks," Zola replied with a shrug, though her tone lacked enthusiasm. "But it's not as glamorous as it seems. There's a lot of pressure to keep up appearances, to live up to his name. Sometimes it's exhausting."

Beck nodded, sensing an opening. "I can imagine. But you handle it well—you always look great, like tonight," he said, his voice sincere.

"Thanks, Beck," Zola said, offering him a small smile. "But there's more to life than just looking good, you know?"

"Of course," Beck agreed, though he couldn't help but admire how effortlessly Zola seemed to embody style and grace.

Before their conversation could continue, the lights dimmed, and a hush fell over the crowd. The fashion show was about to begin. Zola's eyes flicked back to Vas one more time before turning her attention to the runway, still hoping for a chance to speak with him.

As the first model appeared on the runway, draped in an exquisite gown that seemed to float around her, the audience erupted in applause. The show had begun, and for the next hour, the group was swept up in a whirlwind of futuristic fashion, each design more breathtaking than the last. But even amidst the spectacle, Zola's thoughts remained divided between the incredible show in front of her and the enigmatic presence of Vas and his grandfather, whose influence seemed to loom over everything, even in a place as dazzling as this.