Married to the Billionaire Who Betrayed Me novel Chapter 50

Chapter 50 The Vicious Smear Campaign Begins

“I need a massive upfront deposit, Dominic hedged.

“You will receive twenty percent today,” I said. “You will receive the rest upon delivery. If the glass contains a single flaw, I reject

the entire batch and you eat the cost. Do we have a deal?”

Dominic looked at the blueprint. He looked at me. He nodded.

August arrived with crushing heat. The product inventory began filling a secure, climate-controlled room in the back of the Valdez warehouse. The matte black bottles looked striking. They looked dangerous. They looked exactly like the women I intended to

target.

I hired a small, aggressive marketing firm. I refused their initial pitch. They presented bright, smiling models in sunlit studios.

“No,” I told the creative director. “Find real women. Find a female architect on a construction site. Find a surgeon coming off a double shift. Photograph them in black and white. Show the exhaustion. Show the strength. The product is the only element in

color.”

The resulting campaign was stark and brutal. The images commanded attention. The tagline ran across the bottom of every advertisement in stark silver text: For the woman who builds the empire.

I spent my evenings with Elias. He learned to crawl. He navigated the living room rug with relentless determination. I sat on the floor, reviewing website wireframes on my laptop while he pulled himself up against the sofa cushions. He fell. He cried for five

seconds. He pulled himself up again.

I watched him stand on unsteady legs, and my resolve hardened into diamond. No one would take him from me.

October first. Launch day.

Eduardo Valdez stood beside my desk in the glass office. The warehouse floor outside hummed with the usual morning activity. I stared at my computer monitor. The Aegis website dashboard filled the screen.

“Take the site live,” Eduardo instructed.

I clicked the activation button.

The digital storefront opened to the public. The targeted marketing campaign pushed simultaneous advertisements across major

professional networks.

We waited.

The silence in the office stretched tight. I gripped the edge of the desk. My stomach twisted with familiar anxiety. I risked everything on this launch. If Aegis failed, I lost my capital.

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Ten minutes passed.

The first order registered on the screen. A shipment to a corporate law firm in the capital.

Then a second order. A third.

The numbers began to climb. The refresh rate on the dashboard accelerated. Ten orders. Fifty orders. Two hundred orders. The inventory numbers ticked down in real-time. The targeted demographic resonated with the stark, unapologetic marketing. Women purchased the foundation. They purchased the bold lip colors. They purchased the entire armor kit.

‘Look at the volume,” Eduardo murmured. He leaned heavy on his cane. His dark eyes gleamed with founder’s pride. “You found the

nerve, Minerva. You struck the nerve.

By noon, the sales revenue bypassed our initial manufacturing costs. Aegis was profitable on day one.

I let out a long breath. The crushing weight on my chest lifted. I built it. I possessed my own company.

“We need to authorize overtime for the packing crew,” I said. I grabbed a pen. “We need to secure a second manufacturing run with

Dominic by tomorrow.”

Eduardo nodded. He turned toward the door. “I will inform the floor supervisors. We celebrate tonight.”

He left the office. I sat back in my leather chair. I watched the sales numbers climb. A profound sense of victory washed over me. I survived the purge. I rose from the ashes of the Grand Hawthorne Hotel and forged my own crown in the rust of Port Sterling.

My cell phone vibrated on the glass desk.

The screen displayed Isabella Cortez’s name. The boutique owner rarely called my direct line.

I picked up the device. “Isabella. Good afternoon.”

“Minerva, Isabella said. Her voice lacked the usual sharp business tone. She sounded breathless. She sounded terrified. “Have you

seen the internet?”

My victory evaporated. The cold returned, seizing my lungs. “What are you talking about?”

“The major social media feeds,” Isabella urged. “Check the primary gossip networks. Check the financial blogs. It is everywhere.”

I dropped the phone onto the desk. I opened a new tab on my computer browser. I navigated to the premier society and business gossip site in the capital.

The page loaded.

My face filled the screen.

It was the black and white promotional photograph I took for the Aegis “About the Founder page. I wore a sharp blazer. My

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expression was severe and uncompromising.

But someone had altered the image.

A massive red line slashed across my photograph. Bold, screaming text covered the page.

THE CORPORATE WHORE RETURNS.

My heart stopped.

I scrolled down. The article detailed the launch of Aegis. It linked the new brand directly to Valdez Elegance.

The text did not stop there. The author resurrected every lie from the original Johnston Group press release. They branded Aegis front for stolen corporate funds. They claimed I utilized embezzled capital from Tristan Johnston to launch my vanity project.

The worst part sat at the bottom of the page.

A series of leaked photographs from the Grand Hawthorne Hotel gala. High-resolution images of me standing in the ruined emerald dress. Images of Celeste Whitmore striking my face. Images of my bleeding cheek.

The comment section exploded in real-time. Thousands of users flooded the page.

Thief.

Home wrecker.

She should be in prison.

Boycott Aegis.

My phone vibrated again. Another call. Then another. The notifications on the website dashboard shifted. The sales numbers

stopped climbing.

A new column appeared on the screen.

Cancellation Requested.

Cancellation Requested.

Cancellation Requested.

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