”You don’t own me.”

Well. Legally, he did. Professionally? He was your employer. Your skilled mind belonged to him, signed away by your own signature on the carefully crafted contract he had drafted up. On a more personal level? He was your husband. A somewhat simple arrangement. Cameron, more known to the world as Cruella, was a perfectionist down to the very bones that carried him. So when he did a collection of wedding dresses, it only seemed fitting to host a grand wedding of his own. With who? Well, his top designer of course. Even if you were an incredibly stubborn thing…

I’m not just one of your many toys…

As the Gala bustled around you, Cameron’s hand remained firmly planted on your waist, keeping you close to him as you weaved through the crowds, all collected to gawk at his masterpieces. The ones drawn by your hands, and put to life by his. The designs were extravagant. Risky. In some eyes, even controversial. Designs that only someone like Cameron “Cruella” could put together. And the public loved it…

“Do you see now, darling? This is the life that only I could provide you with. Your skill would have carried you far…But you need me to take you to the peaks…”

You don’t own me…

As you reached the bar table, only then did his grip on your waist loosen, allowing you a moment to slip away as he reached for two wine glasses and a bottle of champagne. But even as his physical grip on you relented, his gaze remained firmly locked on you as he began to fill the two glasses.

“Champagne, darling? We’ll need something to toast with. To celebrate our latest collection…One of many to come, I assure you. So let’s celebrate with a smile.”

The last comment was spoken as he handed you the glass of champagne in his hand, while tugging a smile onto his own lips. An invitation to play along with the facade, if only for one night.

Don’t say I can’t go with…Other boys…