The car halted at a red light.From the backseat, Ashton said, ‘Make a left turn.’‘But boss, our destination’s to the right.’‘Left. Make a detour.’The driver obeyed without further comment.They turned onto Garrison Lane, three blocks from Nyx Collective’s office.The car slowed, crawling through a street lined with outdoor cafés, post-lunch strollers and errand boys on scooters wobbling under coffee trays.Ashton had meant only to drop in and say hello.Well. If he was being honest with himself, he also wanted to check out her workplace, survey the male population, identify and quietly eliminate any potential threats.He trusted Mirabelle to stick to their contract clauses, but he also knew he wasn’t the only man with eyes in his head.Then he saw her. And the plan changed.She wasn’t alone.A man stood in front of her on the pavement, both hands on her shoulders, face tight with concern.He said something.Mirabelle’s back was to Ashton; he couldn’t catch her reply.The man dropp
Days passed, and good things just kept coming.The Isobel Brooke case had barely been wrapped up when Finn dropped the next bombshell: Rhys’s defamation case was going to trial soon.I’d been fuming about it for weeks, but after a month of waiting, my anger had dulled to a simmer.I handed the whole thing over to Finn and wasn’t about to waste my time showing up to court.With the LGH lawyer team on his side, Finn had the case wrapped up with hardly any effort.In the end, the court ruled in my favour. Rhys had to pay me twenty grand and issue a public apology.I heard from Finn that Rhys, apparently too busy planning his wedding to bother showing up, had sent his lawyer instead.And he dragged his feet on the apology. I knew what he was thinking: he believed if he buried his head in the sand long enough, the whole thing would just go away.But Finn and team hounded him daily, threatening to take him back to court for refusing to comply with the judgment.In the end, Rhys had no choic
Savannah begged and begged and begged and almost got on her knees.By the end of a marathon grovelling session, she’d managed to get Eliza Black’s demand cut from two hundred million to fifty.The project didn’t just fail to make money—it had bled them fifty million.Savannah was so furious that she ended up in bed with stress-induced fever the same day.Violet Lin had to cough up thirty million of that money herself to avoid being booted from Nyx Collective and blacklisted by the whole industry.Her family may have made its fortune quick, but dropping thirty million all at once still wasn’t a walk in the park.For an entire week, nobody at Nyx got any work done. A few had tendered their resignation.Violet was too busy licking her wounds to spar with me.Meanwhile, my follower count on social media had exploded. My inbox was full. Several companies offered me a job.But my focus wasn’
Savannah thumped her fist on a desk.A mug jumped up, crashed to the floor with a thud that shut everyone up.Violet turned to her. ‘You saw that, right? She panicked. She’s hiding something.’I faced Savannah too. ‘For the last time, it wasn’t me.’‘Enough!’ Savannah shouted again. She looked as if she’d aged ten years in as many minutes. ‘This whole mess started because someone copied a damn design. That’s the core of it. Who leaked it doesn’t matter. Violet Lin, you copied. That’s fact. Yes or no?’‘I…’ Violet bit her lip. ‘I only did it for Nyx. I thought—’Savannah slammed both hands on the table. Pencil holders rattled. One toppled, spilling half its contents.‘We’re being shredded online! I had a whole launch planned after this! And you blew it! Now, fix it.’‘H-how?’ Viol
Violet’s phone went off like a fire alarm.The lockscreen filled up with pop-ups—DMs, tags, mentions, every single one glowing red.She set it to silent with a flick of her thumb, but her hand was shaking.‘Vanna, I—’‘Don’t bother,’ Savannah snapped. ‘Just tell me this: are they lying? Did you copy that set or not?’Violet’s mouth moved, but the sound barely came out. ‘Let me explain.’‘Then explain!’ Savannah shoved the phone in Violet’s face. ‘The photos are out now. Roux & Lune launched their products three years ago. Yours came out last week. Did you work for Roux before coming to Nyx?’Violet gave a tiny shake of her head.‘Do you happen to own Roux?’ Savannah held out a faint glimmer of hope.Violet shook her head again.‘The designer at Roux, any relation of yours?’Another head shake.‘So, unless the idea was beamed into your head by divine intervention, how do you explain your design is identical to theirs?’Savannah’s face was murderous red. She looked ready to strangle Vio
Violet hadn’t designed them.She’d copied every piece.Not ‘borrowed’, not ‘inspired’—straight-up copy-pasted.The original was from a niche brand based in Antwerp, called Roux & Lune.They didn’t have much of a social media presence and managed barely two, three dozen sales a year.Their stuff wasn’t trending. Their designer didn’t even show her face.The business looked more like a pet project for some rich girl with too much time and daddy’s money.But during uni, my design professor had mentioned the brand in passing.I’d looked them up that night and bookmarked the whole site.And I’d followed their updates ever since.I placed the livestream screenshots of Eliza Black side by side with Roux & Lune’s catalogue photos.Not one alteration. Violet hadn’t even bothered to change the clasp.I frowned and turned to her.She was still smirking, a hip planted smugly on the edge of my desk, looking down at me through her thick lashes.‘Still staring? Babe, I hate to break it to you, but t