chapter 84
Vivienne's POV:
Seeing the fear in Susan's eyes sent a sharp pain through my chest.
I was used to inspiring envy, desire, admiration—never revulsion. But I forced myself to continue, my voice steady despite the trembling in my hands.
"I had some facial adjustments done," I said carefully. "For the screen test. I wanted to ensure I photographed perfectly, but obviously something went wrong—"
"Facial adjustments?" Susan's voice rose an octave, still staring at my swollen face as if she couldn't quite process what she was seeing. "But you said it was beauty treatments. Facials. Maybe some new skincare routine."
"I'm sorry," I said quickly. "I lied. I didn't want you to think I was trying too hard, or that I was desperate—"
Though of course, I was desperate. We both knew it.
Susan was silent for a long moment, her manicured fingers pressed against her temples. When she finally spoke, her voice was carefully controlled. "I need to reconsider our arrangement."
"Susan, please." I leaned forward, ignoring the way the movement made my inflamed skin throb. "I really need this opportunity. We've worked together for three years. Surely that counts for something? Just give me some time. The doctor said it could clear up in a week, maybe two—"
"Vivienne." She held up a hand, and I could see her struggling between professional necessity and personal sympathy. "It's not that I'm being heartless, and I'm not trying to be cruel, but look at yourself. We have a multi-million dollar campaign launching in two weeks. Even if our best makeup artists worked around the clock, they couldn't make this camera-ready. It's simply impossible to shoot in this condition."
"But the contract—"
"Will have to be reconsidered." She was already reaching for her phone, probably to alert the board. "I'm sorry, Vivienne. I truly am. But Maison Lucent can't take this risk."
The sharp ring of my phone yanked me back to the present. I'd been lost in the memory of that humiliating meeting, but now reality came crashing back as I saw Susan's name on the screen.
With trembling fingers, I opened the message.
Board decision final. Contract terminated. We wish you all the best in your future endeavors.
That was it. Three sentences to destroy everything I'd worked for.
I stared at my reflection in the vanity mirror, this stranger with her swollen, ruined face staring back at me. The Baccarat crystal perfume bottles I'd collected over the years seemed to mock me with their perfect, unblemished surfaces. The makeup brushes I'd used to create my flawless image lay uselessly beside them.
Something inside me snapped.
My hand swept across the vanity's surface, sending thousands of dollars worth of cosmetics crashing to the floor.
The mirror cracked as I grabbed a heavy crystal atomizer and hurled it at my reflection, spider web fractures spreading across the glass. I tore through everything—the makeup, the perfumes, the carefully curated tools of beauty that had failed me when I needed them most.
When I was done, I stood among the wreckage, breathing hard, my hands bleeding from the broken glass. But the monster in the fractured mirror was still there, staring back at me through a thousand shattered pieces.
A knock at my door made me jump. "Vivienne? Darling, are you in there?" Mother's voice, tinged with that particular brand of impatience she reserved for when I wasn't immediately available.
"Just a moment!" I called, frantically reaching for my concealer.
The cream makeup seemed to sink into the inflamed skin, making it look worse somehow. I grabbed a silk scarf from my dresser, draping it artfully around my neck and lower face. It looked ridiculous, but it was better than—
The door opened. Of course. Privacy was a concept Mother had never quite grasped.
"Why are you hiding up here? Lucas is downstairs. He says he hasn't seen you in a while, that you've been locked in your room, refusing to come out."
Her sharp eyes took in my appearance—the scarf, the defensive way I held myself—and then swept across the chaos of my room. The shattered mirror, the broken perfume bottles, the cosmetics strewn across the floor like casualties of war.
"What's wrong with you?"
"Nothing. I just... I have a slight cold. I didn't want Lucas to catch it."
She stepped closer, and I instinctively backed away. Too late. Her fingers were already reaching for the scarf.
"Mother, don't—"
She pulled it away in one swift motion. The silence that followed was deafening.
"What the hell?" Her voice was flat, deadly. "What have you done?"
"It's just an allergic reaction," I said quickly. "The doctor said it happens sometimes. It'll clear up in a few days, a week at most—"
"You stupid, stupid girl." Each word was a precisely aimed dagger. "Do you have any idea what you've risked? Your engagement to Lucas, our standing, everything we've worked for—"
"I did it for the campaign!" The words burst out of me. "Maison Lucent wanted perfection. Do you know what it's like competing with Elena Ross? She's everywhere now. I needed an edge. I needed—"
The crack of her palm against my cheek shocked us both. The inflamed skin screamed in protest, but I refused to show the pain.
"You needed to think." Her voice was ice. "Lucas is downstairs. Right now. What are you going to tell him?"
As if on cue, I heard footsteps on the stairs. Lucas's voice, warm and concerned: "Rebecca? Is everything alright? I thought I heard—"
Mother's eyes bored into mine. "Fix this," she hissed. "Now."
I grabbed the scarf, wrapping it loosely around my shoulders this time, letting my hair fall forward to partially obscure my face. When Lucas appeared in the doorway, I forced my features into what I hoped was a welcoming smile.
"Lucas." My voice came out smaller than intended. "I'm sorry. I wasn't expecting you."
His face softened immediately, that protective instinct I'd cultivated so carefully rising to the surface. "I was worried. You haven't answered my calls, and you missed dinner at the club last night."
"I've been a bit under the weather." I let a small cough escape. "I didn't want to worry you."
He crossed the room in three strides, his hands reaching up to cup my face. I jerked back instinctively, stepping out of his reach.
Lucas froze, his hands suspended in mid-air.