Chapter Three
Chloe's tweet was retweeted over 100,000 times within three hours.
Hollywood entertainment reporters swarmed in like sharks smelling blood. TMZ published three in-depth reports overnight, each with a more sensational headline than the last: "Oscar-winning actress accuses domestic violence," "The inside story of Hollywood's golden couple's broken marriage," and "Mysterious husband suspected of pulling the strings behind the scenes, Chloe loses all her resources."
At the same time, various marketing accounts started stirring up trouble.
"I feel so sorry for Chloe; it's so hard for women to be independent."
"These days, even Oscar-winning actresses are being subjected to PUA (Pick-Up Artist) tactics."
"That guy is disgusting, I suggest he be kicked off Earth."
I sat in the top-floor office of the conglomerate's Los Angeles branch, watching the media storm on my computer screen, and took a sip of coffee with a blank expression.
Matthew stood next to me, holding an analysis report.
"Sir, Ms. Chloe's team is currently hiring online trolls, and a large-scale doxing operation is expected to begin tonight," he said. "Should I activate public opinion protection measures?"
"No need," I said. "My identity information is encrypted by both the FBI and the NSA; they can't find anything about me."
"Understood." Matthew nodded. "Then the next step..."
"The Bulgari signing ceremony is tonight at 8 PM, right?"
"Yes, sir. The location is the Four Seasons Hotel in Beverly Hills."
I glanced at my watch. "Three hours left."
Are you going to the scene?
"No," I said, "I want her to witness it for herself."
Matthew paused for a moment, then understood. "You mean..."
"Let her watch as someone takes away what she wants most." I put down my coffee cup. "That's more effective than any verbal humiliation."
"Understood, sir. I will arrange it."
After Matthew left, I stood up and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window.
The Los Angeles cityscape stretched out beneath my feet, ablaze with lights. The city seemed even more bustling at night, as if countless desires lurked behind every single lamp.
I took out my phone, and there were already hundreds of thousands of comments under Chloe's tweet.
I randomly clicked on a few.
"Who is this man? Has anyone found out?"
"I heard he's Chloe's personal assistant, a kept man who lives off his wife."
"This kind of trash deserves social death."
"I support Chloe's divorce; women should be independent and strong!"
I turned off my phone, a sarcastic smile creeping across my face.
Independent and self-reliant.
That's a really good word.
7:50 p.m., the banquet hall of the Four Seasons Hotel.
Chloe was dressed to the nines, wearing an Elie Saab haute couture evening gown and a Harry Winston diamond necklace. Her makeup was meticulous, concealing her dark circles, and she still looked radiant.
Zack stood beside her, the brooch still pinned to his shirt collar. He had deliberately worn a dark suit today, trying to project a mature and composed image, but his overly youthful face gave it all away.
Chloe, arm in arm with Zach, walked proudly into the banquet hall.
She has to secure this endorsement today.
It wasn't just about the money; it was also about proving—proving that the sudden loss of resources was just an accident, proving that Chloe Summers was still one of Hollywood's most sought-after actresses.
Many people had already arrived at the banquet hall.
Chloe spotted her arch-rival at once—Emily Black, another A-list actress. Emily, dressed in Tom Ford, was chatting and laughing with the president of Bulgari's US division.
When Emily saw Chloe enter, a meaningful smile appeared on her face.
"Hey, isn't this Chloe?" Emily walked over with a glass of champagne. "I heard you didn't have a very good day?"
Chloe forced a smile. "It's just a minor setback, it won't affect the overall situation."
"Really?" Emily's smile widened. "That's good. But to be honest, I'm quite surprised you even had the time to attend the signing ceremony today."
"Why wouldn't I come?" Chloe said. "Being Bulgari's global ambassador is something I've always dreamed of."
Emily looked at her, a hint of pity flashing in her eyes.
"Chloe," she said, "you really think you're the star of the day?"
Chloe paused for a moment.
Just then, the lights in the banquet hall dimmed, and a spotlight shone on the center of the stage.
The president of Bulgari Asia Pacific—a middle-aged Italian man—walked onto the stage and picked up the microphone.
"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for attending tonight's signing ceremony," he said in English with a heavy Italian accent. "Today, we will announce the final choice for Bulgari's global brand ambassador for 2024."
Chloe took a deep breath, straightened her skirt, and prepared to go on stage.
"This lady," the president continued, "not only possesses outstanding acting skills and an impeccable image, but more importantly, her temperament perfectly embodies Bulgari's brand spirit—elegance, independence, and timelessness."
Chloe smiled confidently; she had even mentally prepared her remarks.
"She is—" the president paused, "...Ms. Emily Black!"
Thunderous applause erupted.
Chloe froze.
She watched as Emily walked onto the stage with a smile, accepted the gift box from the Bulgari president, hugged him, and waved to the camera.
Throughout the entire process, Chloe stood motionless in place, like a stone statue.
Zack whispered, "Honey, are we sure we haven't made a mistake...?"
"Impossible," Chloe said through gritted teeth. "I clearly reached an agreement with them, the contract was all ready..."
She rushed backstage and stopped the president who was about to leave.
"Sir!" Her voice was somewhat out of control. "I'm Chloe Summers, and I'd like to ask why the spokesperson was suddenly changed?"
The president glanced at her, his eyes cold.
"Ms. Summers," he said in a businesslike tone, "this is a decision made by headquarters, and I have no authority to interfere."
"But we clearly..."
"Excuse me, Ms. Summers," the president interrupted her, "I have other matters to attend to, please excuse me."
He walked past Chloe and went straight away.
Chloe stood there, feeling as if the whole world was spinning.
She took out her phone and dialed her agent's number.
"Amy, what happened?!"
On the other end of the phone, the agent sounded anxious. "I don't know either, Chloe. Bulgari only said they received an urgent order from their Rome headquarters that the spokesperson must be changed. I've asked many people, but no one knows the specific reason."
"Rome headquarters?" Chloe frowned. "That doesn't make sense. I'm an Oscar-winning actress, far more valuable than Emily in the market, what makes them..."
"Chloe," her agent interrupted, "there's worse news."
Chloe's heart sank. "What?"
"Universal, Netflix, Warner." The agent took a deep breath. "The three companies just sent official notices that all your projects are terminated. The reason given is 'force majeure.' They will cover the penalty for breach of contract, but the cooperation ends here."
Chloe felt her mind go blank.
"This...this is impossible...I signed agreements with them all..."
"I know, but this is a direct order from the board of directors." The agent's voice carried a hint of helplessness. "Chloe, have you offended someone? And someone we can't afford to mess with?"
Chloe hung up the phone, feeling completely drained, and slumped onto the sofa in the hallway.
Zack walked over and tentatively said, "Honey, how about we go back first..."
"Shut up!" Chloe jerked her head up, a glint of madness in her eyes. "Someone must be messing with me, they must be!"
Her mind raced.
Who is it?
Those washed-up celebrities she trampled underfoot? Impossible, they don't have that kind of power.
A rival's financial backer? No, even the fiercest battles among Hollywood's capital groups wouldn't resort to such ruthless tactics.
Who else could it be?
Chloe suddenly remembered the divorce papers Arthur had handed her that afternoon.
But then she shook her head.
It couldn't be Arthur.
That good-for-nothing can't even afford a decent car, how could he possibly influence Bulgari's headquarters' decisions?
She must be overthinking it.
Chloe took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down.
"I have to fight back," she murmured.
She logged back into Twitter, this time determined to completely sever ties.
Chloe Summers (verified):
Update: I just learned that the real reason I lost all my resources was because my husband was behind it all. He couldn't accept my success, so he resorted to underhanded methods to retaliate against me. This man is not only extremely controlling but also psychologically twisted. I deeply regret my past kindness in marrying such a scumbag. I will use legal means to protect myself, and I hope everyone will learn from this—never underestimate the malice of a dark man. #PUA #ScumbagExposed
The moment the tweet was posted, the number of reposts and comments exploded again.
Chloe looked at the soaring data and finally a smug smile appeared on her face.
"Arthur," she said through gritted teeth, "I'll make you wish you were dead."
Meanwhile, on the top floor of the conglomerate building.
I stared at Chloe's latest tweet and handed the phone to Matthew with a blank expression.
"Write it down," I said. "These are all evidence."
"Understood, sir." Matthew took the phone. "Also, the invitations to the charity gala are ready."
"when?"
"The day after tomorrow night," Matthew said. "The location is Griffith Observatory. It's Hollywood's highest-profile charity event; all the A-list stars and financial tycoons will be there."
"Very good," I said. "Make sure Chloe is also on the invitation list."
Matthew paused for a moment. "You mean...?"
"I want her to fall the hardest on the biggest stage," I said.
Matthew nodded and turned to leave.
I stood up, walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, and looked at the Los Angeles night view.
The city is brightly lit, but behind those dazzling lights lies endless darkness.
Chloe thought she was trying to fight me.
What she didn't know was that she had already lost from the very beginning.
I took out my phone and sent a text message to a number.
Me: "Are you ready?"
A few seconds later, the reply came.
The other party replied, "Anytime, Mr. Rockwell."
I turned off my phone, a cold smile creeping across my face.
The night after tomorrow.
The whole world will know what the price of betraying me is.
