Chapter 9 JEALOUSY AND CONSPIRACY
Giselle stared down at her phone, scrolling as the makeup artist carefully applied blush to her cheeks.
“Please, could you lift your head a little?” the artist asked politely.
Giselle clicked her tongue, ready to snap, but then Freya stepped in, raising a calming hand.
Giselle glanced at the artist and forced a soft, practiced smile that made the poor woman blush.
“Sure,” she said, pretending to sound kind.
Right now wasn’t the time to lose her cool. She was meeting Erica soon, then heading for her dress fitting for the annual Actors and Actresses Gala. She needed to keep her composure—at least on the surface.
It didn’t take long before the makeup was done, and Giselle admired herself in the mirror.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice dripping with polite arrogance. She turned to leave and stopped when a familiar voice called her name.
“Giselle!”
“Vivi!” Giselle forced an excited squeal as she hugged her. Deep inside, her stomach twisted with disdain and enviness.
Fans constantly compared her acting to Vivi’s—claiming Vivi had more poise, more grace, sharper features. It stung. Vivi was half-American, half-Chinese, a so-called “half-blood” in this industry that once rejected her. She had struggled, taking two years of English lessons before her talent finally shone through. Then she met Erica, and everything changed.
Now Vivi was under Erica’s entertainment company, the biggest one in the country and her fan base grew like wildfire.
“Giselle, it’s been so long,” Vivi said, hugging her again gently.
“What are you doing here?” Giselle asked, smile tight.
“Oh, I came to visit a friend,” Vivi said with a soft giggle that sounded too delicate, too rehearsed—like a fairy who didn’t know how annoying her own charm was.
“What friend?” Giselle pressed, but Vivi brushed the question off smoothly, flicking her hair behind her shoulder with elegance that made Giselle’s chest burn.
“Your makeup looks beautiful,” Vivi said sweetly.
“Of course it does,” Giselle replied with a prideful smile.
Just then, the door opened.
Lady Gu entered.
The queen of the runway herself: gorgeous, dangerous, and gloriously unpredictable. Her golden hair shimmered under the lights, her lips full, her expression a perfect mix of warmth and madness. Everyone adored her confidence. Giselle envied her fiercely. Lady Gu’s following was larger than Vivi’s… and Giselle’s combined.
“Oh, Vivi—you made i—”
“Oh my, Lady Gu! Such a pleasure seeing you here!” Giselle interrupted, stepping forward too eagerly.
Lady Gu frowned slightly, already put off by her energy.
“You look so much more beautiful in person,” Giselle praised, voice syrupy sweet.
Lady Gu forced a smile. “You flatter me. You’re also quite lovely in person.”
Giselle giggled, pretending to blush. This was her chance, if she could just take a picture with Lady Gu, post it online, her followers would explode overnight.
“Would you like to grab tea with me? My treat. I’m not too busy today,” she offered, voice silky.
Lady Gu’s smile instantly vanished. “It’s business matters,” she said coldly.
“Oh, sorry for intruding,” Giselle murmured, eyes dropping as if embarrassed.
“The makeup looks nice,” Lady Gu added casually, “but your eyeshadow should be darker. With your eye shape, the soft look doesn’t suit you.”
It was constructive advice, but it hit Giselle like an insult. Her fingers twitched. She pinched her palm with her sharp nails, hiding her fury behind a mask of stillness.
Freya noticed immediately. Whenever Giselle did that, someone suffered afterward.
“Miss, your appointment with Erica is due,” Freya said gently, wrapping a cautious hand around Giselle’s shoulders.
Giselle smiled....a cold, dangerous smile.
“Sure,” she said flatly, walking away.
As the door closed behind them, Lady Gu’s voice echoed: “That makeup would suit Vivi far better.”
The words struck deep. Giselle’s reflection stared back at her from a nearby mirror—eyes dark and burning.
“Would you like a bottle of chilled water?” Freya asked softly.
Giselle laughed low, hollow, and unsettling. Freya took a step back instinctively.
“Water? Get this makeup off me. Now!” Giselle suddenly screamed.
“Please, Miss, keep your voice down, the others might hear.....”
“Stop shaking!” Giselle snapped. “My reputation can’t be ruined.”
But her voice wavered. Lady Gu’s words echoed in her mind like poison.
Giselle grabbed a Vase from her table and smashed it against the mirror. Glass shattered everywhere.
Freya gasped, trembling. The image of Emily torture, Giselle’s assistant, flashed in her mind. She began edging toward the door quietly, but Giselle noticed.
“Where are you going?” she asked, clutching a jagged shard of glass. Blood trickled down her hand, staining the carpet.
“Are you scared?” she whispered, almost amused.
Freya shook her head quickly, but Giselle laughed. “You think Vivi’s better than me, don’t you? You think Lady Gu was right?” she shouted.
Freya trembled, unable to speak. Sweat rolled down her temples.
“Come here,” Giselle ordered, smiling like a predator.
“Um… the boss called for me,” Freya stuttered.
Giselle caught the nervous glance toward the door and smirked. “Vivi came here for makeup too, didn’t she?”
Freya froze.
“I’ll let you go unharmed… if you do one little thing for me,” Giselle whispered sweetly, stepping closer. The glass slipped from her hand, shattering again on the floor.
Freya leaned in hesitantly and Giselle whispered something into her ear.
Freya’s eyes widened in horror. “Giselle isn’t human,” she thought, “she’s the devil herself.”
Just then, the door creaked open. Both women froze.
Erica stepped in.
Her expression was calm but unreadable, her posture sharp as a blade. She wore a black fitted suit that revealed a hint of cleavage, paired with sleek palazzo trousers. Her wavy hair was pinned neatly, her gold watch and necklace catching the light like fire.
“Did I come at a bad time?” Erica asked, voice low.
Giselle quickly shoved Freya aside. Erica noticed, but said nothing.
“Good day, Miss,” Freya said quickly, bowing before hurrying out.
Erica’s gaze drifted around the room, then settled on the broken mirror.
“I cut my hand,” Giselle said softly. “Accidentally hit the mirror.”
“Flawed,” Erica murmured.
Giselle frowned. “Meaning?”
“No one’s perfect,” Erica said coldly.
The words struck hard. Giselle’s chest tightened; her lashes trembled.
“I’ll be right back,” she said weakly, rushing into the bathroom.
She rinsed her hands yet blood kept seeping from her palm. She wrapped it in tissues, muttering, “Damn it.” She glared into the mirror, face pale, breath ragged.
“Smile. Stay calm. Make her like you—as always,” she whispered to herself. Then she exhaled sharply and smiled. “It’s fine. It’s over.”
When she returned, Erica was standing in front of the shattered mirror, tracing one crack with her finger.
“You must have been really angry to break this,” Erica said without looking up.
Giselle’s breath caught. “My manager threw something—it hit the mirror by accident,” she lied, sitting quickly.
“Please, have a seat,” she offered politely.
Erica studied her for a long moment, then sat down.
“Fans don’t like actresses with temper problems,” Erica said coolly. “Many careers have ended up badly. It would be a shame if the sweet Giselle suddenly get barked at, by her fans.”
“I assure you, I’m not like that,” Giselle said quickly.
Erica smiled faintly. “That’s why I chose you. Who else could represent Lorenz better than you? Elegant, poised, intelligent.”
The flattery worked. Giselle’s shoulders relaxed slightly.
Erica slid the contract across the table. “Take a look.”
Giselle skimmed through the words carefully.
“Two other actresses have been chosen for Lorenz,” Erica said, watching her reaction. “Their names will be announced at the gala. But tell me, do you have what it takes to outshine them?”
“Of course,” Giselle said, though her voice trembled slightly.
“I believe you do,” Erica replied smoothly. “I see potential where others don’t. Sign it.”
Giselle signed eagerly, Erica smiled, satisfied.
“Pleasure doing business with you,” Erica said, shaking her hand.
“The pleasure’s all mine,” Giselle replied, smiling wide.
As Erica turned to leave, she handed the documents to Jolie.
Then—
A sudden scream echoed from down the hall. “Ahhhhhh!”
Everyone froze.
Erica stared at the makeup room, there a makeup artist was kneeling on the floor, begging.
“I’m sorry! I mixed them up by mistake!”
“Find out what happened,” Erica ordered Jolie.
Giselle’s expression twisted immediately. Not now. Not when Erica’s still here. She had escorted Erica only for this to happen!
Erica noticed the panic flash across her face and let out a quiet scoff. Folding her arms, she said softly,
“What did you do this time, Giselle?”