After finishing the shoot, Ava sat with her legs crossed, skimming through the pre-selected photos on the iPad Pro.
She turned her head and smiled radiantly at Chloe: “Chloe, your aesthetic taste is truly unrivaled.” Even her way of addressing had automatically switched to an intimate first name.
Chloe also maintained a perfect polite smile on her lips: “Ava’s divine visuals are the true soul of the photoshoot.” Ava laughed heartily, reaching out to high-five Chloe: “My intuition tells me that this collaboration of ours will create a media earthquake.” “It will definitely be like that.” Chloe nodded in confirmation: “On the upcoming Academy Awards night, I guarantee Ava will steal all the Spotlight on the red carpet.” “Thanks babe.” Ava winked playfully at Chloe.
She had just heard her manager report back that this time, GY decided to unlock its archives, bringing out the most expensive High Jewelry set of the year to exclusively sponsor her stride on the red carpet.
The value of that jewelry set would even eclipse the “Eternal Love” set shot today.
That design was still being kept an absolute secret, only revealing a silhouette Teaser image on the website exclusive for VIP clients.
This massive privilege meant that the Oscar red carpet would be the debut Runway for GY’s new masterpiece.
Just thinking about that killer appearance made Ava thrill with excitement.
You must know that at this year’s Academy Awards, she was nominated for the Best Actress category.
Even if she missed out on the golden statue, she had to ensure her outfit crushed those hateful rivals in Vogue magazine’s Best Dressed section, humph!
Because tonight Ava still had to fly to L.A.
to attend a studio’s internal party, she couldn’t linger to drink champagne in celebration; she had to head to the private airport right away.
Chloe and Harper took the elevator together to see the female superstar off all the way to the waiting Cadillac Escalade.
Suddenly, the ringing of Harper’s iPhone broke the atmosphere.
“Hello…” Harper took a few steps back, finding a secluded corner near the flower bed to answer the phone.
A moment later, she hung up with a pale and incredibly panicked face, hurriedly walking over: “Chloe, there’s an emergency at home, I have to go right now.” Having said that, she clumsily tried to wave down a passing yellow cab.
Seeing that her friend’s ashen face didn’t look good at all, Chloe reached out and tightly grasped Harper’s elbow: “Get in the car, I will drive you home.” Harper only then startled and regained her senses: “Right…
right, you drove here.” Chloe pulled Harper hurriedly back into the studio to say goodbye to Cecile’s crew, then walked out to the parking lot, opened the door, and pushed Harper into the passenger seat of the Porsche.
After buckling her own seatbelt, she started the engine and asked: “Where do I set the navigation?” “Queens district.” Harper pursed her lips, her voice slightly trembling.
Chloe did not press further.
Stepping on the gas, the red sports car roared and shot out onto the avenue.
This was an old apartment complex for low-income earners located way out in the suburbs of Queens.
Most of the neighboring buildings had been demolished by the government’s planning to build new apartments, making this area look desolate and harboring many spine-chilling hidden dangers.
Chloe stepped out of the car, the piercing cold wind of the New York night rushing in and giving her goosebumps.
Pulling up the collar of her thin hoodie, Chloe took quick steps, trailing right behind Harper.
This slum was too shabby, its infrastructure severely deteriorated; in the parking lot, there wasn’t even a single working high-pressure street lamp, making it as pitch black as the bottom of a jar.
This cramped, ragged place was exactly where Harper’s family lived.
Chloe turned her head to look at the stairwell entrance reeking of garbage and urine, then raised her blue eyes to look at the dilapidated window on the third floor flickering with a sallow yellow light.
Her delicate eyebrows furrowed slightly.
The emergency call Harper received earlier was from her ruthless stepmother.
It must be said that her friend’s family background was incredibly toxic: an alcoholic, gambling-addicted father, a stepmother who specialized in scavenging for money, and a half-brother who hung out with street gangs.
Chloe recalled the early days when she first got to know Harper, back when they were students at the prestigious Ivy League Cornell University.
In theory, Harper’s destitute family circumstances could in no way afford the exorbitant tuition fees, but this resilient girl worked tirelessly day and night to secure a full scholarship into the top-tier school.
Not only that, but she also excellently secured a student exchange slot to Central Saint Martins in London right in her sophomore year.
Chloe and Harper only wished they could have met each other sooner in life.
In their senior year, the two pooled their capital to launch the brand; currently, Harper’s net worth was already made of covetable numbers.
When GY had just successfully raised its first round of funding and turned a profit, the first thing Harper did was withdraw her savings to buy a high-end apartment in Brooklyn outright for her father.
Who would have expected that he would secretly mortgage it to a casino to pay off debts and lose it all.
After that shock, Harper finally realized her father’s rotten nature.
No matter how much the stepmother cried, threw tantrums, or threatened to expose her on social media, she coldly cut off all financial aid, not throwing another dime into that bottomless pit.
However, she still had a soft heart and shouldered the tuition and basic living expenses for her half-brother.
Tonight, it was precisely because that bastard half-brother got involved in a gang fight, using a baseball bat to crack someone’s head open at his high school, that the stepmother wailed and called Harper back to pay for emergency bail.
Chloe let out a heavy sigh, turning around to get back into the car.
Even for BFFs, no one wanted to expose their family’s most pathetic and helpless state for others to see, let alone that Harper was a girl possessing an incredibly proud ego.
Out of that refinement, Chloe automatically retreated to let her friend handle it herself.
Buckling her seatbelt and turning on the headlights, the sports car growled and rolled away, leaving the dangerous slum.
Damn it!!!
Chloe despairingly used her strength to slam shut the smoking hood, her spirit somewhat breaking down.
To break down in the middle of the late night on a stretch of road as deserted as a graveyard, her expensive luxury car deciding to act up and protest against her; what a perfect day!
Massaging her throbbing temples, she felt like an unlucky comet was shining upon her fate lately; whatever she did was struck with bad luck.
When she left Harper’s apartment complex, the sky began to drizzle lightly.
Currently having been stuck here for over twenty minutes, the rain had grown heavy, turning into a pouring downpour.
Even though countless feelings of helplessness surged in her heart, Chloe had no choice but to grit her teeth, get into the car, take out her phone, and dial Julian’s number.
“Hello.” Julian’s charming, deep voice carrying a magnetic trace rang out through the phone’s speaker.
Chloe suddenly felt a stinging in her nose, feeling extremely aggrieved.
“Where are you?” Chloe asked softly.
“Up at the conglomerate’s office.” The plea for help, “Can you come pick me up,” which was just hovering at the tip of her lips, was bitterly choked back down inside her.
She bit her lower lip tightly, suppressing herself for a moment before replying blandly: “Then you keep working.” “Yes,” Julian replied coldly.
“Go home and rest early.” “Alright.” Hanging up, Chloe wearily leaned her head back against the driver’s seat.
Right at this moment, headlights flashed by, and a car sped past through the curtain of rain.
She decided to open the door and dash out to test her luck.
Fortunately, this was a branch road connecting to the highway; although devoid of pedestrians, the traffic flow was fairly steady.
Standing trembling in the rain by the roadside for exactly sixteen minutes and forty-seven seconds, successfully turning her branded sportswear soaking wet like a drowned rat, Chloe finally managed to hail a ride-hailing taxi with its ‘available’ light on.
There was a male passenger in the back seat; perhaps the black driver saw her shivering so pitifully that he pulled the car over.
The passenger side window rolled down, and the driver asked in a thick Bronx accent: “Where do you want to go, miss?” And in the passenger seat was an amateur rapper with a head full of colorful dreadlocks.
“To downtown Manhattan, can you give me a ride for a stretch?” The driver turned to compromise with the young man: “This girl looks quite miserable, you don’t mind sharing the ride, right?” The young man looked outside to see the pouring rain, and Chloe in her pathetic state, her soaking wet hair clinging to her pale face, then reluctantly shrugged: “Whatever, but you have to drop me off at my stop first.” Chloe profusely thanked them, opened the back door, and slipped into the seat, involuntarily letting out a loud sneeze due to the cold.
After more than half an hour of winding around, the young man paid and got out of the car.
The driver glanced at the dashboard clock: “It’s still early to go home, where do you want your drop-off point?” Chloe pondered for a moment, then clearly read out an address on Wall Street.
The driver: “I have to quote the price first; from the time you got in until now, plus the route there, the fare is eighty dollars not counting the tip.” “Deal.” Chloe decisively accepted.
More than ten minutes later, the car stopped at the foot of a massive tempered-glass skyscraper.
Chloe swiped her card to pay, then opened the door and stepped out.
This extravagant tower was precisely the headquarters of the Quinn financial empire.
For no logical reason at all, in this moment of weakness, she just wanted to see Julian.
After a friendly greeting to the night shift security guard, she familiarly swiped her VIP card and headed straight up to the 26th floor.
As soon as she stepped out of the glass elevator, behind the double oak doors at the end of the thickly carpeted corridor was the powerful office of CEO Julian Quinn.
The secretarial team at the reception desk outside must have gotten off work a long time ago.
Chloe walked up, gently gripping the handle to slightly push the door open to a small crack.
From inside, an alluring female voice suddenly rang out, breaking the silence: “Julian, look at this…” Her hand resting on the solid brass door handle just stiffened as if turned to stone.
It was Serena’s voice?
So the so-called “working overtime to solve a crisis” keeping him planted at the office this late was because of this private matter?
Chloe suddenly felt a bitter, sarcastic smile appear on her lips.
She gently let go of her hand, closing the door without a sound, decisively turned on her heels, and walked straight toward the elevator, not turning her head back even once.
When Chloe swiped her card to enter the penthouse, the Rolex wall clock already pointed to almost midnight.
She looked at the soulless hands of the clock; right, this late and her husband, the diligent CEO, was still “working overtime” after all.
Truly ridiculous.
Stepping into the massive bedroom space, everywhere Chloe looked felt like an eyesore, suffocating.
This million-dollar penthouse was Julian’s personal property.
When he bought and decorated it, Serena at that time was still carrying the title of his official, rightful girlfriend.
Who knows if every piece of furniture and the decor style in this extravagant house heavily bore the mark and aesthetic taste of that woman.
Previously, when living inside her perfect shell, she was never narrow-minded enough to care about these petty details, but right at this moment, Chloe’s limit of endurance seemed to have snapped completely; she felt like she was about to go crazy.
Seemed like on Instagram, Serena once showed off that she really liked the art of Ikebana flower arrangement?
Chloe’s gaze coldly glanced at the expensive Baccarat crystal vase holding a bouquet of white lilies placed on the small tea table next to the bay window.
Chloe did not hesitate to lunge forward and grab it.
The next second, crash!
The crystal vase was thrown forcefully, flying straight into the oak-paneled wall, shattering into hundreds of sharp glass shards splattering all over the Persian carpeted floor.
In the empty, regal bedroom, there was only left the stifled, broken panting of Chloe driven by sheer fury.