Serena’s POV
"Those additional models were deliberate sabotage, weren’t they?" Ivy demanded, her posture rigid with righteous anger.
Matthews scoffed. "I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ivy."
"You know exactly what I’m talking about," she countered. "You hoped I’d fail today. What—did you think I was getting too much attention at Kruse? Were you worried I might outshine you?"
"You’re giving yourself far too much credit," Matthews sneered. "Kruse has dozens of talented designers. Why would I bother targeting you specifically?"
He waved dismissively. "Now if you’ll excuse , I have actual important matters to attend to. You should focus on wrap-up duties."
As Matthews turned to leave, Ivy called out, "Wait!"
He paused, irritation evident in the set of his shoulders.
Ivy reached into her bag and pulled out an envelope, holding it out with unwavering conviction. "Matthews, I’m resigning from Kruse, effective imdiately."
Matthews stared at the resignation letter in Ivy’s hand, montarily stunned into silence. His composure slipped just enough to reveal genuine shock before his features hardened once more.
"What did you just say?" he finally managed, his voice laced with disbelief.
"Don’t pretend you didn’t hear ," Ivy replied, her voice steady and clear. "And don’t think you can manipulate with empty threats. I’m done."
Matthews’s lips curled into a sneer. He clearly couldn’t fathom that Ivy Percy would actually walk away from Kruse—not when she had signed a five-year contract with only six months remaining. In his mind, she should be grateful to endure whatever treatnt he dispensed until her obligation was fulfilled.
"You can’t possibly be serious," he said with a dismissive wave. "After everything Kruse has given you? The exposure? The resources?"
"I couldn’t be more serious," Ivy replied, her voice rising with newfound confidence. "I. Quit."
Matthews’s face flushed with anger, his professional veneer cracking. "Fine. Quit if you want. But the contract stipulates very clearly that you’ll owe a substantial termination fee." His smile turned predatory. "Unless you’ve got a small fortune hidden away, expect my lawyers to be in touch. Perhaps they can explain the concept of ’legally binding’ to you."
"I’ll cover it."
Both heads turned as I approached, my Louboutins clicking decisively against the polished floor. The look of stunned realization dawning on Matthews’s face was almost worth the price of admission alone.
"Of course," he said, eyes darting between Ivy and . "I should have known. You orchestrated this whole thing." He turned to Ivy, voice dripping with venom. "You think you’re so clever, don’t you? Securing a safety net before jumping ship? You realize this industry runs on reputation, and loyalty still ans sothing to—"
"Loyalty?" I interrupted with a harsh laugh. "That’s rich coming from soone who just tried to sabotage his own designer’s debut." I took a step closer, dropping my voice to ensure only he could hear my next words. "The only question Kruse’s headquarters should be asking is why one of their most promising talents chose to walk away six months before her contract expired. What pushed her to that breaking point, Matthews? Or should I say... who?"
I watched the blood drain from his face as the implications sank in.
"You wouldn’t," he whispered.
"Try ," I replied with a smile that didn’t reach my eyes. "I’ve survived far worse than an industry scandal. Have you?"
Matthews’s jaw clenched so tightly I could almost hear his teeth grinding. "You’ll regret this, Ivy," he hissed, pointedly ignoring now. "You think you’re special? Kruse has dozens of designers more talented than you waiting in the wings."
"Then finding my replacent shouldn’t be a problem," Ivy replied coolly. "Though they might want to know what they’re signing up for under your... leadership."
"You ungrateful little—" Matthews stopped himself, visibly struggling to regain composure as he noticed industry peers watching their exchange with undisguised interest. With a final venomous glare, he straightened his tie and stalked away, nearly colliding with a waiter carrying champagne flutes.
Ivy exhaled slowly, her shoulders dropping as the tension partially released. She turned to with eyes bright with emotion.
"Mrs. Quinn, I can’t thank you enough," she said quietly. "You didn’t just preserve my professional dignity today—you helped reclaim my self-respect." She hesitated before adding, "About the termination fee... I’ve saved enough over the years. I can manage it myself."
I shook my head decisively. "Ivy, designers with your talent can’t be bought with money, but they can certainly be crushed by financial burdens. That fee is nothing to ." I placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Leave the legal matters to my team. When would you like to officially join Dreamland?"
The question seed to catch her off guard, as though the reality of her liberation was just now sinking in.
"I could start imdiately," she replied, a genuine smile blooming across her face. "Though my arm will need so ti to heal properly."
"Take all the ti you need," I assured her. "Besides, I have bigger plans for you than just design work."
Ivy’s eyes widened slightly. "Bigger plans?"
"Indeed. How would you feel about heading our London division?"
Her hand flew to her mouth, eyes widening in disbelief. "Mrs. Quinn, I... are you serious?"
"Absolutely. You’ve worked at Kruse long enough to understand London’s market intimately. You know the clients, the suppliers, the entire ecosystem." I leaned in conspiratorially. "Matthews wanted to destroy you? Let’s beat him at his own ga. Take what he values most—Kruse’s market share in London—and show him exactly what he lost."
I watched as uncertainty transford into determination across Ivy’s features.
"You think I can actually do this?" she asked, her voice stronger than before.
"I know you can," I replied with absolute conviction. "Your design talent speaks for itself. But today I saw sothing even more valuable—your ability to think clearly under pressure and make difficult decisions when it matters most. Those are leadership qualities, Ivy. The rest can be learned."
The spark in her eyes told everything I needed to know.
"I won’t let you down," she stated firmly, squaring her shoulders despite her injury.
"I know you won’t." I glanced at my watch. "Now, I believe we’ve earned a celebration. The Fashion Week debut was an unqualified success. Shall we?"
"Lead the way," she replied, her smile wider than I’d ever seen.
Within days, Ivy officially joined Dreamland Studio. I engaged top lawyers to handle her contract termination, making it clear to Kruse that we would fight any excessive penalties. Word quickly reached Kruse’s headquarters about both Ivy’s departure and her imdiate hiring by Dreamland. Their reaction was swift and rciless.
Matthews found himself stripped of his position and reassigned to a struggling branch office in a much less prestigious market. His explanations and excuses fell on deaf ears—Kruse’s leadership had apparently been watching London’s underperforming numbers for so ti, waiting for justification to make a change.
When I shared this news with Ivy back at our temporary London workspace, her expression was one of surprised vindication.
"I never expected them to act so quickly," she admitted, organizing fabric swatches for our next collection. "Though I’m not entirely surprised. London’s numbers have been stagnant for years under his managent."
"His loss is our gain," I replied, scanning through the growing list of appointnts on my tablet. "Speaking of gains, how are those client etings coming along?"
Ivy’s face lit up with excitent. "Better than expected. I’ve reached out to several forr clients who were... let’s just say, not Matthews’s biggest fans. They’re eager to learn more about Dreamland Studio. Three have already requested consultations for custom pieces."
"Perfect." I nodded approvingly. "You’ve accomplished more in three days than most could in three weeks."
As I packed my belongings in preparation for my return to New York, I felt a rare sense of complete satisfaction. The London division would be in capable hands with Ivy until Maya could arrive to provide additional support. Once Ivy fully embraced her role as London director, Dreamland would be positioned to expand into other European markets.
"The groundwork is laid," I told Ivy as we said our temporary goodbyes. "Now we build."
Her determined nod told everything I needed to know.
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