Rain tapped against the wide windows of Vogue Noir's studio as Zara adjusted the collar of her couture blazer. The campaign shoot was halfway through when her phone buzzed again.
Another article. Another leak.
This time, it wasn't just an edited photo.
It was a video.
Grainy. Shaky.
But unmistakably her and Aiden arguing in the Knight Corp elevator during their last week together.
The clip was cropped just enough to twist the narrative. To make it look like she was the manipulator, like she had threatened Aiden.
The headline screamed:
"Zara Blake—Sweetheart or Snake?"
Zara's knees buckled slightly.
Chloe caught her just in time.
"Don't. They want this. Whoever's behind this is hoping you'll break now."
Zara looked up, her lips trembling but eyes fiery.
"This was private. This wasn't supposed to be anyone's story but mine."
Chloe helped her sit and handed over a bottle of water.
"They want your silence. But you've got a damn voice, Zara. One louder than any whisper they throw at you."
---
Meanwhile…
Madison stood at a window inside a high-rise co-working space she now used as her "communications hub."
On her screen, five different gossip blogs updated simultaneously, echoing her latest upload.
Beside her, a tablet flashed security footage she had collected over the months working at Knight Corp. She had doctored each one, just enough to imply deceit, power plays, and emotional manipulation.
"She'll never recover her image," Madison whispered, sipping her wine. "This is the part where her glass slippers crack."
Her phone buzzed.
Camille.
"Nicely done, Maddie. They're eating her alive. I can almost taste it."
"Next step?"
"We don't stop. You want her erased. I want her humiliated. So we do both."
---
Back at Zara's apartment…
She stared at the screen, trying to breathe as the video played for the sixth time.
"This wasn't who I was," she whispered. "Why does it look like I'm the villain in my own life?"
Just then, a soft ding echoed.
Unknown number
No contact name.
The message read:
"They're watching you. Not just the press. The ones you left behind. Be careful who you trust."
Zara blinked. Her heart dropped.
She texted back:
"Who is this?"
No reply.
Chloe entered from the kitchen, holding two mugs of tea.
"Everything okay?"
Zara shook her head slowly.
"No. And I think it's about to get worse."
---
That same night…
Aiden sat in his private library, a glass of scotch in hand, scrolling through the very footage Madison leaked.
He narrowed his eyes.
"I don't remember this angle," he muttered.
Then he paused the clip.
Frame by frame.
A flicker in the corner—Madison's reflection in the elevator mirror, half-hidden.
His jaw clenched.
"She's behind this…"
He stood.
And for the first time in weeks, he didn't look drunk.
He looked sober.
Angry.
And dangerously determined.
---
Chloe was pacing now, her bare feet soft against the plush rug in Zara's penthouse.
"Who the hell would be watching you? It's not just the press. This feels personal."
Zara handed her the phone, the cryptic message glowing on the screen.
"And anonymous. No name. No clue who sent it."
Chloe scrolled up, checked the number.
Untraceable. No profile. No past texts.
"This… this is serious, Z. Someone's not just trying to ruin you—they want to scare you too."
Zara's voice was quieter now, brittle but controlled.
"It's working."
A tense silence filled the room. Then Chloe's eyes flashed with something fierce.
"Then we make them regret it."
Zara looked up, startled.
"What?"
Chloe set her mug down and stood tall.
"I'm done being half in, half out. I'm quitting Knight Corp. Effective immediately."
"Chloe—"
"No. I'm not asking for permission. I should've left a long time ago. I belong here—beside you, building your empire, not cleaning up the mess of a man who doesn't deserve you."
Zara blinked, emotion rising. "Are you sure?"
Chloe smiled. "Zara Blake, you're a fashion hurricane. And I'm your armor."
They hugged. And for the first time in days, Zara let herself cry.
---
Meanwhile…
Madison walked barefoot across the polished wood of her apartment, the city lights dancing across her windows.
Her walls were covered in a tapestry of printed photos, timelines, news clippings—almost like a detective's lair, only her target was not a criminal… but Zara.
In the center, circled in red, was Aiden's face.
Below it:
"Mine before she came."
She ran her fingers along a line connecting Chloe's photo to Zara's.
"Weak link," she whispered. "But she's clever. Dangerous."
Then she smiled.
A new idea blooming.
"Let's see how loyal Chloe really is when I burn down her fashion dreams too."
---
Back at Vogue Noir...
The creative director stormed into Zara's office, slamming a copy of a tabloid down on her desk.
ZARA BLAKE EXPLODES ON CEO — Diva or Damaged?
"You need to release a statement," he snapped. "Immediately. Sponsors are calling."
Zara stood calmly, smoothing her silk blouse.
"Then let them call. I'm not releasing anything until I know who's behind this."
He rolled his eyes. "This is fashion, not a thriller."
Chloe appeared behind him.
"Then maybe it's time we treat it like both."
She handed him a signed resignation letter.
"I'm no longer part of Knight Corp. Effective today. From now on, all inquiries go through me."
Zara looked at Chloe, stunned.
The director scowled. "And who the hell do you think you are?"
Chloe smiled sweetly.
"The woman who's about to make Zara Blake the most powerful name this city's ever seen."
---
Later that night...
Zara sat alone on her balcony, staring at the skyline.
Her phone buzzed again. Another message. Same number.
"They're closer than you think. And she's not working alone."
Zara felt her pulse quicken.
She stood, wind tugging at her hair, and whispered to herself:
"I need to find out who she is."
Behind her, in the shadows, the light from a neighboring building flickered. A silhouette moved past the window. Watching.
Always watching.