Chapter 55

Serena's POV

The sales figures on my screen painted a picture of stunning success - StarRiver's latest collection had exceeded even our most optimistic projections. Nearly every item was sold out nationwide within days of launch. I smiled, remembering Mother's words: "Fashion isn't about exclusivity, Serena. It's about making beauty accessible to everyone who appreciates it."

"Miss Sinclair?" Vincent poked his head into my office. "The production team is ready for the expansion meeting."

I nodded, gathering my tablet. We needed to scale up immediately - no artificial scarcity, no playing games with supply and demand. That wasn't what StarRiver stood for.

The peaceful satisfaction shattered when my office door burst open again. Lily, PR Director, practically stumbled in, her face ash-white. "Miss Sinclair... I'm so sorry, but you need to see this."

She thrust her phone at me. The headline from Radiant Times blazed across the screen: "StarRiver's Dark Secret: How Serena Sinclair Climbed to Success." Below it, a carousel of photos started auto-playing. My blood ran cold.

There I was, at various high-society events, being cornered by potential sponsors. Men leaning too close, hands lingering too long - moments I'd endured while securing backing for Whitemore. Now these same photos were being weaponized, twisted into a sordid narrative of sleeping my way to the top. The article specifically mentioned my relationship with Ian Whitmore, painting me as an unfaithful gold-digger who'd used him as a stepping stone.

"They're saying..." Lily swallowed hard. "They're claiming you... with multiple men, while you were engaged to Mr. Whitmore..."

I set the phone down with steady hands. "How bad is it?"

"It's everywhere. Social media is exploding. And... Mr. Whitmore just posted a statement."

Of course he had. I pulled up Ian's social media myself. His carefully worded post neither confirmed nor denied the allegations, simply expressing that our relationship had "ended amicably" and that he "wished to respect everyone's privacy." The perfect way to pour gasoline on the fire while appearing above it all.

My office phone started ringing. Then my cell. Then my email notifications began pinging rapidly.

"The customer service lines are overwhelmed," Lily reported, her voice shaking. "People are demanding refunds, returns... saying they won't wear clothes made by... by..."

"A whore?" I finished quietly, watching the social media comments scroll past. The venom was impressive in its creativity. Apparently, I was an ungrateful social climber who'd betrayed the magnificent Ian Whitmore, who'd so generously stooped to dating someone of my common background.

The irony almost made me laugh. Those photos - every single one of them - had been taken at events where I'd been hustling to secure sponsors for Ian's family's ventures. I'd endured those uncomfortable moments, those unwanted advances, those predatory power plays, all to help the Whitmore. And now Ian was using them to destroy me.

"Miss Sinclair?" Lily hovered anxiously. "Radiant Times is requesting a statement."

I looked at the chaos unfolding on my screens - plummeting stock prices, cancellation notices, social media meltdown.

"Let them wait," I said softly, my voice steady despite the storm raging in my chest. "I need a moment to think."

While I was lost in thought, Wesley Morgan, Sales Director, barged into my office, his usually composed demeanor visibly shaken.

"Ms. Sinclair, we're facing unprecedented returns across all retail locations. The shopping malls are threatening to pull our products from their shelves due to customer complaints."

I kept my expression neutral, though my fingers unconsciously tapped against the desk. Before I could respond, Caleb Reed from Procurement burst in, his face ashen.

"The suppliers are demanding immediate payment. They're threatening legal action if we don't settle by the end of the week."

The customer service department's report came through on my phone: "Lines completely overwhelmed. Unable to handle the volume of complaints."

I took a deep breath, my mind already formulating a response plan. "Call an emergency management meeting in ten minutes." My voice remained steady, betraying none of the tension coiling in my chest.

As I stood to prepare for the meeting, I caught a glimpse of Nina through the glass walls of my office. She was whispering to someone, a hint of a smirk playing on her lips as she cast a sideways glance in my direction. I forced myself to look away. There would be time to deal with her later.

The situation with Eleanor was worse than I'd anticipated. News alerts kept popping up on my screen: "StarRiver Scandal: Celebrity Endorser Eleanor Yates Under Fire." Her upcoming TV show was put on hold, and social media had turned into a battlefield.

My hands hovered over the phone. Eleanor didn't deserve this collateral damage. I dialed her number, preparing myself for the inevitable.

"Eleanor, I think we should terminate our contract." I tried to keep my voice professional. "I'll cover all penalty clauses-"

"Serena Sinclair!" Her sharp tone cut through my practiced speech. "Is that what you think of me?"

I fell silent, caught off guard by her anger.

Her voice softened. "I know you're being set up. I believe you. And I'm not going anywhere."

Something warm pressed against my eyes. "But your career-"

"My career can handle it. Besides, my brother just called me and-"

My phone buzzed with another call. Lucas's name flashed on the screen. I hesitated, then switched lines after saying goodbye to Eleanor.

The silence stretched between us for several seconds.

"I have a meeting," I said finally, my tone deliberately distant.

"StarRiver's stock has started to fluctuate." His voice was calm, matter-of-fact. "I've arranged for an international crisis management team to handle the press. They'll be available whenever you need them. The funding's already been arranged as well. Use it if necessary."