Selena Hart had exactly seven seconds before her world began to fall apart.
The camera flash caught her mid-laugh, standing in front of her branded booth at the LA Global Beauty Expo. Her hair was pulled into a high, sleek bun, her nude blazer cinched at the waist, and her skin — the perfect, glowing advertisement for Hart Skincare. All around her were shelves lined with glass jars, embossed in soft gold: earth-born, vegan, Black-owned.
She had never looked more successful.
Then the scream came.
It cut through the noise like shattered crystal. A sharp panicked shriek from across the room, drawing the attention of a hundred perfectly made-up heads.
Selena's smile froze, the scream belonged to Brianna Leigh — TikTok royalty and their headlining influencer — who now stood in front of a ring light mirror clutching her face like it was on fire.
"My skin! My f**king face!" Brianna wailed, her long acrylics clawing at her cheek.
Selena blinked then ran.
By the time she got there, a crowd had formed, phones up, cameras rolling. She pushed through the noise and saw what would become the headline on every gossip blog within the hour.
Red blotches.
A massive reaction, swelling, rage-colored streaks creeping up Brianna's cheek like vines.
"Oh my God—" Selena choked, reaching for her. "Did you apply the mask after the patch test? You were supposed to—"
"Don't touch me!" Brianna screamed, shoving her away. "This is your fault! What kind of poison is in this crap?!"
Selena flinched like she'd been slapped. Her eyes darted to the glass jar still sitting open on the table. Her bestseller: Glow Balm, the product that had finally gotten her noticed.
And now?
Now it might end her.
The takedown happened in real time.
By midnight, #HartScandal was trending. By morning, three retailers had paused restock orders, her website was flooded with refund demands and an email from her lab politely suggested she "take time to investigate."
Selena barely slept. She sat curled on the cracked leather couch in her one-bedroom apartment, wrapped in a hoodie, staring at her laptop screen and watching her dream crumble in front of her.
"You were blowing up yesterday," Maya said quietly, holding two mugs of coffee. "I thought we were gonna be on a yacht by next year."
Selena didn't smile. "It's probably over."
"No, it's not." Maya handed her the mug. "Crisis PR is a thing, so is suing Brianna Leigh's fake, drama-thirsty face."
"She has twenty million followers, I have two unpaid interns."
"Well. Three, if you count me."
Selena finally cracked a small laugh — but it faded fast when her inbox pinged. A new message. Subject line: Legal Inquiry: Wolfe Global Group.
Her heart dropped.
She clicked it open.
Ms. Hart,
As part of the investor group attached to Ms. Brianna Leigh's sponsorship brand, Wolfe Global is requesting an urgent meeting regarding the skincare incident and subsequent PR fallout.
Kindly be available for a closed-door review.
Location: Wolfe Tower, 55th floor
Time: 10 AM. Today.
Regards,
Executive Admin – Julian Wolfe
"Wait… Wolfe?" Maya leaned over. "As in Julian Wolfe? Tech billionaire Wolfe?"
Selena read the message again, her palms were suddenly cold. Julian Wolfe wasn't just a Tech billionaire, he was the billionaire — elusive, untouchable and completely devoid of scandal. Except now, apparently she was his scandal.
"Sh*t," she whispered.
The Wolfe Tower stood like a glass dagger in the Los Angeles skyline, too tall and too clean to look real. Selena arrived in a black blazer and bold red lipstick, hiding the storm raging in her chest.
The elevator ride felt eternal. She checked her phone rehearsed her apology and prayed she wouldn't cry in front of the richest man in California.
The doors opened to silence.
Not a receptionist, not a hum of voices just the echo of her heels on polished marble.
She stepped into the main office and there he was.
Julian Wolfe.
Six foot three, slate gray suit, steel-cut cheekbones and a stare that felt like being x-rayed.
He didn't rise from his chair, just folded his hands on his desk and looked at her like she was a puzzle he wasn't sure he wanted to solve.
"Ms. Hart," he said. Voice smooth, detached. "You're late."
Selena glanced at the wall clock. "I'm three minutes early."
"Then you're late for the version of me that doesn't waste time."
Okay, rude.
She held her ground. "I appreciate you seeing me. I know this situation is… damaging but I had no idea Brianna would have a reaction, she didn't patch test—"
"Save it." Julian leaned back. "This isn't about apologies, this is about opportunity."
Selena blinked. "Opportunity?"
"I've reviewed your brand. Your numbers, your story. You're a fighter — and that makes you valuable. People love underdogs especially ones who look good on camera."
He stood, walking slowly toward her.
"My team was using Brianna Leigh for a rebrand campaign I was launching next month — clean beauty, modern tech, diverse markets. With her out of the picture… I need a new face."
Selena took a step back. "Wait, you want me to replace her? After what just happened?"
"That's exactly why I want you."
Silence.
Julian stopped in front of her, close, close enough that she could see the tiny scar on his jaw, the cool calculation in his pale blue eyes.
"I'm offering you a partnership, Ms. Hart. You become the new face of the campaign; we clean your name, you clean mine. Public appearances, soft interviews, carefully staged chemistry."
Selena stared. "So… a fake relationship?"
"A profitable one."
"And when the campaign ends?"
Julian shrugged. "We go our separate ways, richer."
Selena's heart was pounding. She should say no, she wanted to say no. This was everything she hated — fake affection, power plays, being someone's pawn.
But her company was sinking, her staff would be out of jobs, her dream would die in shame.
And Julian Wolfe was handing her a rope.
"I'll need my own terms," she said firmly. "I pick the shoots I want, I have final say on my brand and I don't pretend to be in love with anyone."
Julian's lip curved into the faintest trace of a smile — the first sign he was human.
"Welcome to the Wolfe campaign."