Serena’s POV
I watched the gossip explode across social dia from my office chair, scrolling through the increasingly wild accusations against Ivy. WhisperStream had done his job well—very well. Every dirt-filled detail I’d collected on her was now spreading like wildfire.
"If she wants to play dirty," I muttered to myself, tapping my fingernail against the desk, "then we’ll all get muddy together."
I didn’t feel bad. Not even a little. After what she’d done at the restaurant—after I’d ended up in the hospital with my head split open—Ivy deserved every bit of this karma.
She couldn’t just sit back and watch the show anymore. Now she was the main attraction.
Early the next morning, I headed to Dreamland Studio, my sanctuary away from all the chaos.
The office humd with creative energy as designers sketched and collaborated, exactly how I’d always envisioned it. Maya was waiting for with coffee and that knowing smirk of hers.
"Interesting developnt," she said, nodding toward her phone. "Looks like soone took care of Julian’s social dia problem overnight."
I raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"His accounts are completely gone. Wiped clean. All those nasty comnts—poof!" She made an exploding gesture with her fingers. "Like it never happened."
That was unexpected. I hadn’t asked WhisperStream to do that. But before I could think too deeply about it, Maya continued.
"Speaking of your knight in shining armor, when’s he starting?"
"Should be here around noon," I replied, trying to sound casual. "And he’s not my knight in anything."
Maya rolled her eyes dramatically. "Sure, sure. The super-hot celebrity star just happens to give up his glamorous life to work in our humble studio because... what? The coffee’s good?"
I was saved from answering when footsteps echoed outside the office door.
Every female head in the studio snapped up like erkats spotting a predator—or in this case, prey.
Julian walked into the workspace, clearly dialing down the movie-star energy. He was dressed in simple black jeans and a gray button-down—though it all still looked ridiculously expensive.
Maya’s eyes went comically wide. "Are you sure about letting Mr. Hollywood work here?" she whispered. "The girls are practically drooling already."
"His design skills are solid," I replied. "I’ve seen his portfolio."
"Uh-huh," Maya said, not bothering to hide her amusent. "I’m sure his ’portfolio’ is very impressive."
"Maya!" I hissed, elbowing her. "He’ll be here any second. Pull yourself together!"
"Fine, fine," she said, quickly wiping an imaginary string of drool from her mouth. "I promise I won’t hire him just for his pretty face. Dreamland has standards—no freeloaders allowed."
"I certainly hope I’m not considered a freeloader," ca Julian’s smooth voice from the doorway.
He was leaning against the fra, looking like he’d just stepped off a fashion magazine cover without even trying.
Maya’s professional facade crumbled instantly. Her eyes went straight to his face, then down his body, then back to his face again.
"You? A freeloader? Never!" she blurted, before composing herself. "Please, co in. Let’s discuss your expectations regarding compensation."
Julian strode in confidently, pulling out a portfolio from his ssenger bag. "These are so of my previous designs. I’d appreciate your professional opinion."
Maya flipped through them, her eyes widening with each page. I could almost see the dollar signs reflecting in her pupils. She’d expected a pretty face with diocre talent, not actual skill.
"Serena, can I assu you approve now?" I asked, amused by her reaction.
"As if I ever disapproved!" she protested, grinning ear to ear. "We’ve struck gold here!"
When the topic of salary ca up, Julian simply waved it off, saying he’d accept whatever was fair based on the projects he completed.
Maya happily agreed to a commission-based arrangent and then directed her assistant to prepare a workstation for him—right in the middle of the main floor where everyone could get a good view.
Julian glanced at the designated space, then turned back to us. "Actually, Ms. Carter, may I make a small request?"
"Of course," Maya replied, instantly accommodating.
"I’d prefer to work in this office."
I froze. Wait, what?
"Ms. Carter, would that be possible?" he asked, all innocent charm.
Maya looked at , clearly passing the decision.
"That’s fine," I said, thinking quickly. "You can have this office, Maya and I can share—"
"Actually," Julian interrupted smoothly, "I ant I’d like to share with you, Serena."
Before I could process what was happening, Maya jumped in with a knowing smile. "My office is tiny anyway. You two sharing makes perfect sense."
"Wonderful," she continued, not giving a chance to object. "I’ll have another desk moved in right away."
Julian nodded appreciatively. "Thank you, Ms. Carter."
I sighed internally but decided not to make a fuss. "What supplies do you need? I can help you get set up."
"I’ve brought everything necessary," he replied with a smile that was just a touch too warm. "Serena, we’re colleagues now."
"Welco to Dreamland Studio," I said professionally, extending my hand.
He took it, holding just a mont longer than strictly necessary.
The rest of the day flew by in a whirlwind of productivity. Having Julian in the studio actually accelerated our new jewelry line developnt—he had a keen eye and fresh perspective that complented our existing team perfectly.
Just before closing ti, Maya burst into our shared office with an expression I couldn’t quite read.
"You won’t believe who just reached out to us," she said, waving her phone. "Blackwood Enterprises. They’re offering us access to their jewelry resource network."
I felt my stomach tighten. "Blackwood?"
"Ryan’s assistant called personally. Said there are no strings attached—we can set all the terms." Maya studied my face carefully. "What do you think?"
I laughed bitterly. "Looks like Ryan’s trying to clean up Ivy’s ss with money. He knows she caused the trouble at the restaurant, and now he’s trying to buy our silence."
Maya’s expression hardened. "Should I tell them to take a hike?"
"Absolutely," I said without hesitation. "I don’t want anything to do with Blackwood Enterprises anymore. If we accept, we’ll inevitably have to deal with Ryan in person, and I’m not interested in letting Ivy off the hook so easily for what she did."
Maya nodded firmly and went to make the call, declining the offer in no uncertain terms.
The days flew by as we prepared for our upcoming jewelry launch. I felt confident and energized—until the day I arrived at the venue.
Pushing open the doors, I imdiately spotted Ivy’s display set up directly across from mine, brightly lit and impeccably arranged, openly challenging face to face.
I stared at her setup and muttered, "This can’t be a coincidence."
But instead of anxiety, a slow, cold smile spread across my lips.
If Ivy wanted a direct showdown, she was about to get exactly that.
The ga was changing. And I was ready to play.
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