Lance gently straightened the reporter's microphone, his poise unshaken.
The young reporter blushed, but before she could compose herself, Lance answered openly, "Yes, Joanna is my one and only muse. Every single collection I've designed has been inspired by her."
The room fell silent, tension rippling through the crowd.
Even the event organizers rushed to redirect their cameras, broadcasting Lance's words live to an audience that swelled by the second.
Lance remained calm and composed, smiling softly at the lens. "I'll admit—I'm selfish. I only ever want to see Joanna wear my gowns. That's why, in the month leading up to this awards ceremony, my label turned down several requests from other celebrities."
He paused, gaze unwavering. "To be completely frank, if I were to see anyone else wearing my designs tonight, I'd feel it was an insult to my work—and a sign of disrespect to Joanna herself."
He wore a coat that perfectly matched Joanna's dress, his demeanor refined yet understated. His voice was gentle, almost soothing, but when his eyes met Joanna's, there was a flicker of emotion—restrained, but unmistakable.
The live feed sent viewers into a frenzy.
"Oh my god! I officially ship Lance & Joanna!"
"A-list actress and devoted designer—my heart can't take it!"
"I dare anyone to show up in a Blake original tonight. Just try it!"
"Wait, didn't Designer Blake shade Mirabelle on Instagram the other day? Was that because their studios couldn't reach an agreement?"
"If that's the case, Mirabelle's team is seriously out of line."
Joanna's eyes sparkled with a knowing glint. After exchanging a look with Lance, her cool facade melted into genuine admiration.
She had always preferred the company of clever people, and Lance had just, with a few deft words, not only quashed all gossip about his supposed feud with Mirabelle, but also set a clever trap for her possible appearance later.
Brilliant.
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