Valenor Atelier's main showroom was still closed to the public that morning. Parisian sunlight streamed in through the tall glass, falling softly on the pale marble and polished oak floors.

Raphaël stood alone in the center of the room.

His hand traced the back of a new modular sofa—clean lines, low, modern. The warm taupe Italian leather was cool under his fingertips. He paused, pressing lightly, watching the material spring back into shape.

“Too stiff,” he muttered softly.

A young designer behind him immediately held his breath.

Raphaël crouched slowly, parallel to the sofa seat. The corners of his eyes narrowed, his focus sharp—as if the world consisted only of that piece of furniture. His watch glinted faintly as he tapped the metal frame beneath him.

“Reduce the resistance by two percent,” he said calmly. “People don’t just sit,” he continued. “They arrive tired.”