Through the haze of the wine, I barely caught his reply, “She is beautiful, more beautiful than the sun.”
After that, I completely drifted into sleep, too far gone to hear his voice anymore.
However, not long after, or rather when the car finally stopped at the mansion, I felt as if I was floating somewhere between dreams and reality.
My eyes were still closed, yet I could clearly feel someone lifting me, carrying me from the car toward my room.
That person felt so warm, and when I leaned closer, I caught a familiar scent, the same cologne that clung to Damien.
Was his cologne really that common?
Could it be that someone else was using the same fragrance?
I forced my heavy eyelids open just a little, the world blurring in and out of focus.
For the briefest moment, I thought I saw Damien’s face, hovering above me as he carried me in his arms.
My heart skipped, but I quickly shut my eyes again.
No, that was impossible.
Damien couldn’t carry me, he couldn’t even walk.
I must have been too drunk, or maybe I was already dreaming with my eyes half open.
Convinced it was nothing more than a trick of wine and exhaustion, I let myself sink fully into the darkness of sleep.
Once I opened my eyes again, I was already in my bedroom, and sunlight was streaming through the gaps in my window.
The clock showed eleven—almost noon—which meant I had slept for so long!
I sat up in bed and grabbed my phone, casually scrolling through my social media page.
The moment the screen lit up, my eyes widened in shock.
The first video that popped up on my feed had my name plastered across the title in bold, ugly letters.
“Audrey’s Victim or Whore’s Daughter?
The Truth About Eliana.”
What?
What the fuck was happening here?!
I had only stayed off social media for one night, and now suddenly I was being thrown under the bus?!
I had expected something like this would happen since Audrey had plenty of ways to twist the facts, like unleashing troll farms to bury me in hate.
But this fast?!
“Hey System, show me my stats!” I exclaimed.
[Host Profile]
[Host: Eliana Whitmore]
[Age: 21]
[Face-Slapping Points: 0/100]
[Charm Points: 38/100]
[Face points: 60/100]
[Figure points: 55/100]
[Revenge points: 0/100]
[Fame: 29/100 — Scandalous]
[System points: 50]
[Balance: $48,675]
[Main Quest:
Become the Nation’s treasure.
Time Limit: 3 years] (0.1%)
Damn it!
My fame had gone up, but it wasn’t really worth it because it was scandalous.
[Because right now your name is famous because of a scandal, the title has turned negative, Host.]
[It can change if your fame comes from something better than rotten drama.]
“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath.
I ran my hands through my tangled hair, but when I touched my face and looked down, I realized someone had cleaned off my makeup and even changed my clothes.
“Did the housemaids help me change last night?” I asked in the middle of my stress.
[Yes, Host.
Damien asked them to take care of you.]
Before I could even respond, my stomach growled, and a wave of hangover nausea crashed over me.
I stumbled into the bathroom and threw up.
God, I hated hangovers.
It felt like one minute I was floating in heaven, and the next I was hurled straight into hell.
Worse than that, I had to deal with this fucking scandal too!
Sure, the insults were aimed at Eliana, not me, but that didn’t really make much of a difference and it didn’t make me feel better either.
My hands shook slightly as I rinsed my mouth and flushed the toilet.
Leaning against the sink, I stared at my wrecked reflection in the mirror.
I clenched my fists, forcing myself to breathe evenly.
Calm down, you’ve handled several scandals like these before, you’re an expert in situations like these.
Just then, my phone rang.
The screen lit up with a name that made finally made my stomach drop: Ms.Genevieve Mireille.
I held my breath as fear crawled up my spine. The source of this chapter is g.com.
Even though it had only been uploaded a few hours ago, the video I had seen earlier already had more than five hundred thousand views, and I was sure the numbers would keep climbing over the next few days.
“Good morning,” I started, as I picked up the call.
I quickly cleared my throat before adding, “Is something wrong, Ms.
Mireille?”
“Ms.
Whitmore ….” The woman on the other end hesitated before continuing.
“I think we need to reconsider your collaboration with Mireille Beauty.
Your manager assured us yesterday that your family issue would be resolved soon, but it seems to be spiraling out of control.”
Manager?
I wanted to sigh, it seemed Sarah had been trying to deal with the situation.
“It’s really hard for us to decide, because we believe in your talent and potential.
But as much as we want to keep working with you, our company’s image matters a lot as well …”
Genevieve’s voice just kept going, but to me it was nothing more than a dull murmur in the background.
I pressed my palm against my forehead, tapping it a few times as if that could chase away the throbbing headache that refused to leave, but no matter what I did, the pounding in my head stayed.
Genevieve’s voice was still on the line.
She sounded calm, but firm at the same time.
“We’ll give you a little time, Ms.
Whitmore, but if this situation doesn’t improve, I’m afraid Mireille Beauty will have no choice but to reconsider our partnership.”
My grip on the phone tightened until my knuckles turned white.
“I …
I understand,” I whispered, forcing the words out past the lump in my throat.
“Thank you, Ms.
Genevieve.
I will try my best to resolve this problem as soon as possible.”
Genevieve sighed softly, then said, “Good luck, Ms.
Whitmore.”
The line went dead, leaving me staring at my phone screen, my hand still trembling.
The call was over, but the weight of her words felt heavier than ever, pressing down on my chest until I could barely breathe.
“Fucking Bullshit!”