Chapter 2

Shortly after Julian left, my phone rang.

"You get trampled by the entire internet, and your genius response is to pay them out of your own pocket?"

My agent Amy was shouting so loudly the speaker vibrated.

"It's my money, Amy."

"It’s an absolute PR nightmare! I spent four weeks fighting the press, and you just took your liquidated assets and threw them at the animals eating you alive. You destroyed your last ounce of commercial value."

"Amy, listen—"

"Shut up!" she yelled. "You are a hopeless lunatic, Serena. Do not ever contact this agency again."

The call dropped.

"Amy, I—" I dialed her number immediately.

'The number you have reached is unavailable.'

I opened WhatsApp, frantic to type an explanation. A red alert icon sat next to her profile picture. [Message failed to send.]

I pulled up Instagram. The 'Following' button had turned back to blue. Blocked. I was completely blocked across every platform.

I stared at the screen, a freezing ache spreading through my chest.

When the deepfake videos first leaked and the mob breached my gates, Amy was the only one who stayed up with me for three days straight, fighting the trolls, holding my hand while I cried. She was my last remaining tether to my old life.

Now, even she had cut the cord.

Suddenly, a Twitter push notification flashed at the top of my screen. A new hashtag dominated the worldwide trending list: #MakeAWishWithSerena

Hundreds of influencers and anonymous haters were posting photos of my heavy velvet boxes.

A fitness blogger filmed himself aggressively rubbing the multi-million-dollar serum onto the soles of his dirty sneakers.

[Thanks for the high-end foot cream, Serena! Next time send a Rolex!]

I stared at the greedy, triumphant faces dominating my timeline. The sheer, terrifying weight of their malice pressed against my chest.

I set the phone face down on the counter. I walked toward the basement stairs.

The basement air smelled of sterile bleach and cold metal.

I stopped in front of Julian's stainless steel medical tray. The high-speed centrifuge sat idle next to the final batch of unsealed Porcelain vials.

I picked up a brand-new surgical blade. I gripped the steel handle, pressed the sharp edge deeply against the pad of my index finger, and sliced the skin.

Dark red blood welled up and dripped onto the metal tray.

I extended my hand over the open glass vials. I squeezed my finger. Drops of thick blood fell directly into the clear serum, diffusing like red smoke.

Then I heard footsteps behind me.

I stopped squeezing my finger and slowly turned around.

Chloe stood near the bottom of the stairs, clutching a small cardboard box.

She was my former assistant. The girl who vanished the exact morning my scandal broke.

"Serena?" she said softly. "I just... I came to grab the rest of my supplies. Are you okay?"

She took a hesitant step. But her posture was rigid.

Her eyes darted from the blade to my bleeding finger.

No point hiding it now.

I raised my bleeding hand, letting another thick drop of crimson fall directly into the glass vial.

"Your supplies are upstairs," I said quietly. "So what are you really doing down here?"

Chloe’s eyes went wide. She stared at my bleeding fingers, the color draining completely from her face.

She stumbled backward, her spine hitting the stair rail. She turned and bolted up the stairs, abandoning her fragile facade entirely.

The heavy front door crashed open and slammed shut a few seconds later.

I turned back to the table and quietly bandaged my finger.

Four hours later, the internet search algorithms exploded.

[HOLLYWOOD EXCLUSIVE: Washed-Up Star's Terrifying Blood Ritual.]

A high-definition video of me bleeding into the luxury cosmetic vials—shot perfectly from the height of a jacket pocket—played on a continuous loop across every major media platform.

[I was worried about my former boss so I went to check on her,But I had to expose this for public safety. She is mentally unstable. She’s attempting to poison the brave people exposing her past with infected blood.]

It was posted from an anonymous account, but I knew it was Chloe.

I refreshed the timeline. The views had already surpassed twenty million.