Chapter 6

Author's POV Within hours, Serena's post—shared under her designer alias Lazuli—had garnered thousands of likes and comments, with fans and followers expressing their joy at her return. "Queen is BACK!" "We missed you so much!" "Dreamland Studio rises again!" But Serena's return did more than just excite her fans—it completely shifted the narrative surrounding the Celeste scandal. The designer who had been accused of stealing designs from Ivy Hart was suddenly receiving support from all corners of the internet. "If Lazuli supports Celeste, then I do too. #TeamCeleste" "Wait, wasn't Ivy Hart the one who started all this drama? Something feels off..." "I always thought there was more to this story than what we were told!" The hashtag #CelesteInnocent began trending, and soon enough, a full-blown online war erupted between Ivy's supporters and Lazuli's defenders. The tide had turned so quickly that Ivy was caught completely off guard. In her luxurious apartment, Ivy Hart paced back and forth, her golden waves bouncing with each agitated step. Her amber eyes blazed with fury as she scrolled through her phone. What had been a decisive victory against Celeste—and by extension, Dreamland Studio—just yesterday was now unraveling at alarming speed. "This can't be happening," she whispered, her golden waves falling across her face as she hunched over the device. "How did she manage to turn the tide so quickly?" She dialed the number of Martin, the project lead who had been instrumental in spreading the story about Celeste's supposed design theft. "Martin, you need to release the video now," she demanded without preamble. "The one showing Celeste trying to seduce you for the contract." There was an uncomfortable silence on the other end of the line. "Martin? Did you hear me?" "I... I can't do that, Ivy," Martin finally responded, his voice small and hesitant. "What do you mean you can't? We had a deal!" "Someone's already leaked the full video." "What?" Ivy's heart rate spiked. "What full video?" "The unedited footage. It shows everything—me making advances on Celeste, her rejecting me, the whole thing. It completely contradicts the edited clip we released." His voice dropped to a whisper. "#CelesteVindication is trending everywhere." Ivy felt the blood drain from her face. "That's impossible. Nobody had access to that footage except you and me." "Well, someone did," Martin said, voice tight. "And I only helped you because of Mr.Blackwood. If the company wants a scapegoat, it won't be me. I'll make sure they know where the idea really came from." The call ended, leaving Ivy in panicked silence. Her phone buzzed with notifications—brands that had been considering dropping Dreamland Studio were now publicly announcing their continued support and welcoming Serena back to the industry. The momentum was building against her. With shaking hands, Ivy called the one person she believed could fix this mess. Ryan's deep voice answered after two rings, businesslike and cold. "What is it, Ivy? I'm in the middle of something." Ivy's voice trembled as she forced the perfect mix of panic and fragility. "Mr.Blackwood, something terrible is happening... They're accusing me of fabricating evidence.People are saying I used your influence to blacklist other designers." She swallowed hard, adding a subtle sob. "I didn't do any of that. You have to help me... please." "Slow down, Ivy. What exactly is happening?" "I don't understand what's going on. This designer called Lazuli has fans attacking me, spreading lies about me. And I remember she works with Serena's friend Maya at that studio. Do you think—" There was a pause before Ryan spoke, his voice measured. "And you think Serena is behind this?" "I don't want to accuse her, but she was so angry before, even wanting a divorce from you. I just think if she's targeting me now, it makes sense. After all, she's always misunderstood our relationship." "Stay calm," Ryan commanded, his tone low and firm. "I'll handle everything. No one crosses me and gets away with it." "How will you handle it? By exposing the truth—" "No. You stay out of it. And don't say anything online these next few days." She bit back the urge to argue. It was obvious he was trying to protect Serena. That realization settled like a stone in her stomach. "…Of course, Ryan" she said smoothly, masking the heat in her voice. "Whatever you think is best." The second the call ended, she threw her phone across the room. It hit the wall with a sharp crack and dropped to the floor. Her fingers curled into fists as she stared ahead, her expression calm, but her eyes glinting with restrained fury. "This isn't over, Serena," she whispered. "Not even close." * * * Serena's POV Across town in Maya Carter's spacious loft apartment, I emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a plush towel, my damp hair clinging to my shoulders. The hot shower had washed away the lingering scent of hospital antiseptic, but nothing could erase the memory of those terrifying hours in captivity. "Feeling better?" Maya asked, looking up from her laptop where she'd been monitoring the online fallout from my post. "Much," I replied with a small smile, accepting the cup of tea she offered. "What's happening out there in the digital wilderness?" Maya grinned wickedly, turning the screen toward me. "Your Instagram post was like dropping a nuclear bomb in the family territories." "Everyone's talking about you—and more importantly, they're all defending Celeste now." I settled onto the couch beside my friend, scanning through the flood of social media updates. The transformation was remarkable; brands that had distanced themselves from Celeste just days ago were now issuing apologies and demanding that the project executive who had harassed her be fired. "It worked even better than I hoped," I murmured, scrolling through comment after comment. "People respect power," Maya observed, twirling a strand of her red-brown hair. "And right now, you're the most powerful voice in the industry. One word from you was all it took to change the tide." "But this is only the beginning," I replied, my eyes hardening as I pulled up Ivy Hart's profile. "The fire hasn't reached her yet." I knew deep down that Ryan was likely protecting her already. His blindness when it came to anything connected to Sophie Hart still hurt, even now. Maya raised an eyebrow. "You're not planning to let her off easy, are you?" "After what she did to Celeste? After using her designs without credit?" I shook my head firmly. "No, Ivy Hart doesn't get to walk away from this unscathed." I reached for my phone, dialing a number few people had access to. "Triton," I said when the call connected. "I need you to dig deeper into the Celeste situation. Find out who at the partner company was involved in targeting her, and how Ivy manipulated them. I want everything—emails, texts, meetings, payments." "Already on it,"Triton replied. "I've traced some interesting communications between Ivy and a project director named Martin. You were right—this goes way beyond a simple design rejection." "Send me everything you find," I instructed. "and thank you for helping with the video leak. The timing was perfect." "Just doing my job, queen," he said with a hint of pride. "People always underestimate you—especially the ones who think they rule the world." As the call ended, Maya studied me with curious admiration. "You know, for someone who just left a toxic wife bond and survived a kidnapping, you're incredibly strong and composed." I felt a small smile form on my lips, more genuine than any I'd shown in the past three years of my marriage to Ryan. "I spent three years being a doormat, Maya. Three years letting Ryan walk all over me while supporting Ivy and her schemes. I'm done letting it happen." Maya raised her coffee mug in a toast. "To the queen's return." I opened my mouth to respond, but just then, my phone buzzed. A notification popped up on the screen—a text from my bank. Credit card ending in 7281 has been frozen. I stared at the number for half a second, and recognition hit. It was the card Ryan had given me. A bitter smirk curled at my lips. So, he must've gotten the divorce papers. Probably signed them too. Can't wait to be done with me, huh? I mean, I get it. If he's planning to cut ties, there's no reason to keep me on his account. I still had a few things left at his place, but whatever. I'd head over tomorrow, get my stuff, and while I'm at it—drag him to the courthouse to make the divorce official.