Serena’s POV
The exhaustion from my late night had caught up with me, leaving me to sleep in until nearly noon.
As I finally reached for my phone, I saw a stream of messages from WhisperStream.
[Mission accomplished, hey! How’s that for efficiency?]
[You busy? Have you seen the news?]
[Hey, about that exclusive scoop you promised... You’re not backing out, are you?]
I smacked my forehead—I’d completely forgotten about my promise to WhisperStream.
[Just woke up, sorry! Would you prefer celebrity gossip or some dirt on the business tycoons of the city?]
[Wait, I actually get to choose? Considering my stellar performance, any chance I could have both?]
I raised an eyebrow, considering his request. It wasn’t entirely unreasonable.
I opened my private folder and quickly selected several explosive pieces of information that would make any gossip columnist salivate, then sent them his way.
His response was immediate—a series of "bowing to the goddess" emojis.
I could practically feel the shock radiating through the screen from the notorious leader of the online rumor mill.
[You’re officially my only queen from now on!]
[No need for flattery. Thanks for your help with this situation—please keep my involvement confidential.]
[Absolutely. I take my professional ethics very seriously.]
He might have lost the scoop about one corrupt design judge, but WhisperStream had gained much juicier material instead. A profitable trade-off, by any measure.
I closed our chat and browsed the latest news updates.
The design competition judge had indeed cleared Celeste of the plagiarism accusations, but to avoid crossing Ivy, he’d taken all the blame upon himself.
‘’After careful investigation, I can confirm that Celeste’s work was indeed original.
Ivy Hart’s designs showcase a unique style that rightfully earned the highest praise in this competition, making her the undisputed champion!"
I scrolled down to the comments section, which was flooded with outrage:
"Are you kidding me? Celeste was crucified online and you’re just NOW clearing her name?"
"Where exactly is Ivy’s work superior? It looks like basic influencer trash. Are the judges blind?"
"This competition is clearly rigged. No technical standards whatsoever!"
"Exactly! It’s all fixed! Ivy is such a manipulative bitch, probably slept her way to the top. Poor Celeste!"
The online tide could turn so quickly—one statement was all it took to completely shift public perception. Rather amusing, really.
I closed the social media app as a message from Maya came through.
[Serena, Celeste wants to treat you to dinner tonight. Are you free?]
After considering for a moment, I accepted but added:
[Why don’t we invite the whole studio staff? We can celebrate getting through this crisis together. My treat.]
Maya responded instantly: [Where did you suddenly get all this money to spend?]
Before I could reply, she sent another message:
[Never mind, I’ll cover it. Save your money for finding yourself a big dick.]
I couldn’t help but laugh at her teasing.
"Brother, you can count on me. I’ll show you the true power of online influence!"
Both parties ended the call with their own hidden agendas.
That very night, WhisperStream deployed his army of online commenters to promote Ivy’s designs.
They even created a catchy label for her style—"Chameleon Design"—suggesting her versatility was the mark of true genius that others could only envy.
The sheer volume of positive comments quickly buried the negative ones.
Internet users, being the followers they typically are, soon began echoing these sentiments. Within days, a trend of imitating Ivy’s design style swept across social media platforms.
As Ivy watched the flood of praise pouring in, her ego swelled dangerously.
"You’ve done excellent work with this," she told her male assistant, aware that Blackwood family’s resources had made this happen.
"It’s nothing, Ms. Hart. Just doing my job," he replied, privately pleased with the substantial bonus he’d earned from this project.
"I’m doubling your bonus this month. You can take the rest of the day off—I’m going to see Mr.Blackwood."
Ivy dismissed him with a wave, visibly pleased with herself.
"Thank you, Ms. Hart. I’ll head out then."
After her assistant left, Ivy sat before her mirror, touching up her makeup carefully.
Today, she abandoned her usual innocent look for something more sophisticated—a style reminiscent of Sophie.
She deliberately applied bold red lipstick, adding a seductive edge to her normally sweet appearance.
This duality—innocent yet alluring—was exactly what had kept Ryan fixated on Sophie all these years.
And Ivy was determined to use every advantage to secure her position.

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