Chapter 10 AWARD WINNING ACTRESS!
“What’s happening here?” Jolie asked as she rushed into the room.
Vivi came into view, her lips grotesquely swollen, allergic spots already breaking out across her skin. The once-beautiful actress now looked disfigured, and gasps rippled through the crowd.
“She intentionally gave Vivi a tampered lipstick!” Lady Gu hissed, her voice sharp with venom as she glared down at the trembling makeup artist.
“I didn’t! I swear I didn’t!” the artist cried, her hands clashing together in desperation.
Lady Gu’s lips parted to throw another insult but she froze when the sharp click-click of heels echoed through the hallway.
“Erica,” she muttered, breath hitching. Composure returned to her posture instantly, her fury turning into poised determination.
“Vivi’s lipstick was tampered with!” she announced the moment Erica appeared. Her chest heaved with emotion as she pointed at the makeup artist kneeling on the ground.
Across the room, Giselle froze, her heart pounding so hard it hurt. No. No, not now. Her mind raced. Freya couldn’t be caught. If she was, everything, her contract, her future—would shatter in an instant.
Where the hell is Freya?
Earlier that morning, Giselle had ordered Freya to switch Vivi’s nude gloss lip stick with an exact replica, but that copy contained Cinnamal, a fragrant aldehyde known to cause swelling, blistering, and allergic reactions when applied to sensitive skin. It was subtle, almost invisible, but enough to ruin Vivi’s face for the gala.
It wasn’t supposed to explode this quickly. Erica wasn’t supposed to arrive this early.
Giselle dug her nails into her palm so hard she nearly bled her skin as she watched the chaos unfold.
Erica’s calm, commanding voice cut through the tension. “How sure are you that the artist did this?”
Lady Gu’s lips parted, but hesitation flickered in her eyes. “Because she knows every product she uses. There’s no way she would bring something harmful unless she was sent to do so.” Her tone faltered. “She just… didn’t plan it right.”
The crowd thickened...actors, stylists, assistants, everyone whispering, feeding on the scandal like vultures.
“I can’t believe she would do such a thing.”
“Her career is over.”
“Tampering with an actress’s makeup? Disgusting.”
The artist sobbed uncontrollably. “Please! I didn’t do anything!”
“Your crocodile tears won’t save you!” someone shouted.
Then—silence. Erica’s gaze swept the room, dark and cold.
“Nothing has been proven yet,” she said sharply. “So shut your mouths. No one is guilty until proven so.”
The murmurs died instantly. No one dared challenge Erica.
“Bring me the lipstick,” she said.
Jolie retrieved the broken lipstick from the floor and handed it to Erica. Erica turned it slowly in her hand. Under the light, she caught a faint greenish shimmer embedded in the gloss, a chemical residue. Her eyes narrowed.
Cinnamal, she thought. A powerful irritant. Whoever did this knew exactly what they were doing.
She knelt before the devastated artist. The girl’s eyes were red, her whole body trembling as if her world had already ended.
“Did you intentionally do this?” Erica asked softly.
“I would never!” the artist cried, shaking her head. Tears streamed down her face.
“Liar!” someone in the crowd spat, but Erica’s glare silenced the female mmediately.
Turning back to the artist, Erica asked, “What brand of lipstick did you originally bring?”
“Yves Rocher—the nude shimmer gloss,” she whispered.
Erica examined the lipstick again. The texture and label were identical, but the internal composition was not. Someone had switched it with precision.
She exhaled softly through her nose. If you’re going to frame someone… at least do it properly. Amateurs.
Then she straightened, her tone commanding. “This lipstick is not the same brand she brought. Someone tampered with it. Their intention wasn’t to frame the artist....it was to harm Vivi.”
A collective gasp filled the room.
“The artist is innocent,” Erica declared.
The crowd erupted in murmurs.
“Then who could have done it?”
“This industry is wicked…”
Lady Gu’s fierce expression faltered, replaced by guilt and disbelief. She looked down at the sobbing artist, her anger dissolving into remorse.
She knelt beside her. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have accused you without proof.” She gently rubbed the girl’s back as she cried in relief.
“I-It’s okay,” the artist stammered through tears. “You were just… concerned.”
Lady Gu smiled faintly. “What’s your name?”
“Zadie,” she whispered.
“How old are you, Zadie?”
“Twenty-four.”
Lady Gu smiled again. “So young. How about we talk over tea later—an apology tea?”
Zadie nodded, her tears softening into grateful laughter.
Erica watched the scene, a smile almost touching her lips before it vanished. She leaned toward Jolie and whispered, “Get the security team. Have them pull the camera footage.”
Jolie nodded and hurried away.
Across the room, Giselle’s grip on her dress tightened. She staggered back, panic rising in her throat. Then—she saw Freya.
Giselle slipped through the crowd, grabbed her by the wrist, and dragged her into a corner.
“Did you erase the cameras?” she hissed.
Freya froze. “I—I didn’t.”
Giselle’s expression turned to ice. Her hand flew up.....ready to slap her, but she stopped the moment she noticed the crowd turning toward them.
“Oh my God… did she just.....”
“She’s scolding her manager?”
“I thought Giselle was an angel!”
Whispers slithered through the room like snakes. Giselle’s vision blurred, her pulse roaring in her ears. She turned slowly and met Erica’s gaze. Disappointment. Cold and cutting.
No. She couldn’t lose everything. Not now.
“I didn’t do anything!” Giselle screamed suddenly, her voice trembling, almost hysterical. The crowd fell silent.
She turned to Freya, lowering her voice, letting it quiver just right. “What did you do?” she whispered, as if wounded.
The shift was immediate. The crowd murmured, sympathy swinging toward her.
“So she didn’t do it…”
“Oh no… was it her manager?”
Freya understood instantly. Giselle was turning it all on her.
“I’m sorry!” Freya fell to her knees, crying out. “I was angry at how Lady Gu looked down on Giselle. I just wanted to help her feel better! Please—I didn’t mean for this to happen!”
The crowd gasped, faces twisting in disgust.
“Fire her!”
“She doesn’t deserve to be a manager!”
Lady Gu’s expression darkened again, confusion shadowing her features. Something didn’t add up, but she kept quiet this time, glancing toward Erica.
Erica stood still, face unreadable.
Then Giselle played her final card.
She knelt too, her movements slow and deliberate. The crowd gasped again.
“I’m sorry on behalf of Freya,” Giselle said softly, eyes glistening with false sincerity. “Please… don’t fire her. Just suspend her. She didn’t mean harm.”
Erica wanted to laugh. Giselle was good—too good. So convincing she almost deserved an award right there. The perfect mask of empathy and control.
“Oh, she’s so righteous…”
“She’s protecting her manager…”
“I feel bad for misjudging her…”
The whispers turned from condemnation to admiration.
Erica pressed her lips together, suppressing a smile. She walked toward Giselle, her heels clicking softly against the marble floor.
“Freya,” Erica said finally, her tone calm and deliberate. “You’re suspended for now. Go home and rest.”
And with that, silence fell.
Giselle lowered her head, hiding the smirk that flickered across her lips.