Christina’s POV
"If the company’s liquidated, we lose everything. The CAD models, portfolios, inventory," Peter Carl said, his usual breeziness completely gone. "I could find a job elsewhere easily with my CV, but I like this place, and I want to stay."
I leaned back against my desk, feeling the weight of everyone’s expectations crushing . Why was I suddenly responsible for saving a sinking ship?
"But what can I do?" I asked, throwing my hands up. With Fabrizio gone, my joint venture was toast, and the product launch I’d worked my ass off for would die a miserable death. Getting my money back was a pipe dream at this point. Leaving seed like the only option.
"You have a studio, don’t you? So you’ve got managent experience," Peter Carl insisted, looking at with desperate hope.
I snorted. "As Fabrizio has so beautifully demonstrated, running a tiny independent studio and running a big company are totally different beasts."
"I know, but I believe in you."
"Well, I don’t believe in myself," I muttered.
"Just think about it. If you buy Valmont & Cie now, you’ll get it for pennies. Investors will sell cheap just to recover anything. And I’ll take a pay cut, we all would." His eyes lit up. "You could still launch your product. Valmont has everything: infrastructure, manufacturing, marketing networks, distribution channels. This is your golden ticket to break into Paris."
Damn it. He was making sense.
Ten minutes earlier, I was ready to pack up, go ho, and find so dark corner to curl up and lick my wounds. But now my brain was spinning with possibilities.
"I’ll think about it," I said finally.
"Great! Just let know before the court auction. I can connect you with investors if you decide to buy."
I walked out into the spring air, my thoughts churning. What designer wouldn’t want to conquer Paris? This opportunity was like being offered Apple stock before it went public. Only an idiot would hesitate.
But buying the company ant committing to Paris long-term. Moving away from Highrise City. Away from Hudson.
I’d have to rge Christina Joie with Valmont & Cie.
And what would Hudson think about moving thousands of miles away with our wedding less than two months away?
Could we even survive long-distance?
"You should know we’re lucky to get a second chance," Akira whispered in my mind.
Sadness washed over . "Yeah, lucky," I replied silently. "But why is everything such a ss now? Hasn’t the Moon Goddess tested us enough?"
Hudson’s mysterious friend, my father’s death, the investnt disaster...
"Fuck! Why can’t my life be on easy mode for once?" I muttered, earning a strange look from a passing couple.
"Maybe even when the prince charming shows up, we still don’t get the happily ever after," Akira suggested.
"Not helping," I growled.
I stood up and started walking, no destination in mind. Highrise City had been my ho for years. Did I really want to leave? Could I build a new life in Paris?
I nearly called Hudson, then stopped myself. My mind was a disaster zone, and I’d probably say sothing stupid. I already regretted my drunken outburst last night when I’d blad him for ruining everything.
If he hadn’t interfered, the police might have arrested Fabrizio before he could flee, and none of this would’ve happened.
"Not his fault," I reminded myself, cutting off the spiral of bla.
Instead, I called Priya for a work update.
"The Aureate Awards publicity is still paying dividends," she reported. "Custor inquiries are pouring in. That actress Octavia Grey has been promoting us on her social dia, and traffic is through the roof."
"When are you coming back?" she asked. "I feel guilty turning custors away."
"Soon," I lied, just to calm her. "No custom projects for now, stick with our catalog."
"I know, but even those are selling out. Our factory called and said they can’t keep up. When we signed the contract, they never expected bulk production."
"Contact other manufacturers," I suggested. "Get samples, check prices and quality. If they match our standards, sign them on."
"Shouldn’t you make those decisions? This is way above my pay grade."
"Congratulations, you’re now general manager," I said. "I’ll guide you. Get on video when you visit factories and review samples. We’ll decide together."
She still sounded nervous after our thirty-minute call. That made two of us.
I found a park bench and called Ysolde.
Wind howled in the background. "Where are you?" I asked.
"Courchevel!" she shouted. "Skiing with Cade!"
"Want to co to Paris? I’ll play tour guide."
"Skip the tour, been there too many tis. But I’ll co for you, bestie. Wanna show your wedding dress? Don’t tell you still haven’t picked one."
"I have. Sort of. That’s partly why I need you. You have killer taste."
"True. What’s the other part?"
I explained Valmont & Cie’s situation and my dilemma.
"I’ll co give my two cents, but business isn’t my thing. That’s my brother’s specialty. I can ask him to join if you want." She paused. "But really, you should talk to Hudson. He’s your partner in every way."
"I know," I sighed.
After hanging up, I stared at Hudson’s contact photo. How could I face him, knowing Franklin had died in prison?
Yes, it was suicide, but Franklin wouldn’t have been there if not for Hudson.
Was that unfair? Hudson had done it for , after all. Franklin tried to cheat out of my inheritance and had committed serious cris.
After seeing how Hudson handled his own father and stepmother, who were far more conniving than Franklin, I knew he’d actually shown restraint.
He only wanted to protect .
Still, Franklin was my father. I couldn’t help blaming Hudson partly for his death.
These thoughts circled as I waited for the call to connect. The ringing continued until voicemail picked up.
I frowned at my phone. Why wasn’t Hudson answering?
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