Chapter 6 - The Face Of The Brand Turns Her Back
The penthouse on Fifth Avenue was silent save for the frantic sound of designer luggage zippers.
Victor burst through the double doors at two in the afternoon, gasping for breath, having abandoned his car in a no-parking zone three blocks away. He found Chloe Pierce in the master dressing room, surrounded by three massive Louis Vuitton trunks, tossing silk dresses, designer shoes, and diamond jewelry into open compartments.
""Chloe!"" Victor shouted, grabbing her arm. ""What the hell do you think you’re doing?""
Chloe wrenched her arm away with a snarl, her face cold and venomous. ""Get your hands off me, Victor! Don't you dare touch me!""
""You're packing?"" he asked, his voice cracking with hysteria. ""I bought you this apartment! I put that five-carat rock on your finger! The entire beauty world is waiting for us to put out a joint statement! We need to stand together, Chloe! If you post a video on Instagram backing me up—telling the public that this is just a minor supplier delay—the stock won't crater!""
Chloe let out a cruel, barking laugh that made Victor's skin crawl.
""Are you completely delusional?"" she said, zipping up a makeup case packed with high-end cosmetics. ""My agency just dropped you thirty minutes ago. I had my publicist issue a formal statement to People and Vogue at one-thirty. I announced that I have officially severed all ties with Grant Parfums due to unforeseen ethical discrepancies regarding production ethics and labor rights.""
""You... what?"" Victor felt the room spinning around him.
""I’m the victim here, Victor,"" Chloe said smoothly, inspecting her fresh French manicure. ""I was an innocent young model hired to represent an elite luxury house, only to discover that the CEO was running a fraudulent operation built on stolen formulations and forged signatures. The internet loves a redemption arc. My followers went up by two hundred thousand in the last four hours.""
""You ungrateful little viper!"" Victor screamed, his face turning purple as he stepped toward her. ""You wouldn't even have a career if I hadn't plastering your face across Times Square! I made you!""
""And Anna made you,"" Chloe shot back, her words cutting through him like razor wire. ""That’s the difference, Victor. Anna had actual talent. She had the genius that kept this whole circus running for ten years, and you treated her like an unpaid kitchen maid while you took all the applause. You thought I was sleeping with you because I loved your personality? You’re fifty years old, pathetic, and arrogant. I was here for the ninety-million-dollar buyout. And now that you’re broke, I have no reason to look at your face ever again.""
""Get out,"" Victor hissed, trembling from head to toe. ""Get out of my house!""
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""It’s not your house, darling,"" Chloe whispered, picking up her Birkin bag and flashing him the bright, calculated smile she used for the cameras. ""The deed is in my personal LLC, remember? You put it in my name back in March to hide it from your marital estate before the divorce. The locks are being changed at four o'clock. You have about forty-five minutes to pack a garbage bag and get out.""
She walked past him, leaving the heavy scent of an expensive, competing French perfume in her wake, not a single trace of Forever anywhere near her.
