Chapter 1

The heavy roll-up door of the warehouse studio groaned as I pushed it open, the sound echoing into the cavernous space like a distant thunderclap. The air inside was thick, smelling of stale coffee, burnt dust from the hot lights, and the sharp, metallic tang of ozone that always clung to electrical equipment. It was a scent I knew well, though not from here, not specifically. It smelled like anticipation. It smelled like waiting. I stepped inside, my heels clicking against the concrete floor, the sound sharp and deliberate in the silence. I had been told my father was waiting for me, that he needed to review the proofs before the final edit, but the email had been brief, clinical. *Come alone. The lighting is critical.* The studio was vast, a cathedral of shadows and light. Rows of backdrops hung from the ceiling on heavy tracks—crumpled white paper, seamless gray, deep black velvet that seemed to swallow the light. The only illumination came from a massive bank of softboxes in the corner, casting a cool, sterile glow over the central platform. I walked toward the light, my eyes adjusting to the dimness, searching for him. I found him standing near