Chapter 6 · Z Design Founded

Year one of Z Design began in a studio apartment and ended in a corner office.

Zaia hired her first employee—a human graphic designer named Priya who didn't ask why her boss sometimes had to leave meetings to vomit in the bathroom. She rented a small space above a bakery where the smell of cinnamon masked the scent of morning sickness. She incorporated, trademarked, built a client list that grew by word of mouth and relentless quality.

Northern Ridge Technologies renewed their retainer. Then doubled it.

Zaia never met Celeste Vane in person. She never needed to. The work spoke for itself—clean lines, bold typography, brands that felt alive. *Ms. Z* became a whisper in corporate circles. The designer who didn't do meetings. Who delivered perfection. Who charged premium rates and was worth every penny.

The twins grew.

Zaia felt them move at fourteen weeks—two distinct rhythms, a drumbeat beneath her ribs. She talked to them while she worked. She sang off-key lullabies while Priya took client calls in the next room. She bought two cribs before she bought a bed frame for herself.

At twenty weeks, she learned they were boys.

She cried in the ultrasound clinic bathroom—