CHAPTER 27: CHAPTER 27 WE’RE TRENDING!

Serena’s POV

A flash of something—regret? recognition?—crossed Ryan’s face.

Ivy sensed her advantage slipping. "Ryan, she’s twisting everything! You know I’m the victim here. She—"

"That’s enough, Ivy," Ryan snapped, his voice cutting through her whining like a blade. "You’re embarrassing yourself. We’re leaving. Now."

Ivy’s mouth fell open in shock, but Ryan had already grabbed her elbow, steering her toward the exit. She twisted back toward me, her face contorted with rage.

"This isn’t over!" she hissed, stumbling in her ridiculous heels as Ryan practically dragged her away.

I watched them go, keeping my expression neutral despite the triumph bubbling inside me.

The crowd immediately erupted into hushed whispers, phones still recording every delicious moment of Ivy’s humiliation.

"Well," Maya whispered beside me, "that was certainly dramatic."

A subtle smile playing at Julian’s lips. "Nothing sells jewelry quite like a public meltdown from the competition."

He was right. After the spectacle, guests flocked to our displays with renewed interest, while Ivy’s launch across the hall grew even more deserted.

I caught glimpses of her team frantically trying to lure people in, offering extra champagne and gift bags, but the damage was done.

Around nine, Maya grabbed my arm, practically vibrating with excitement.

"Check your phone," she hissed. "We’re trending!"

I pulled out my phone to find social media exploding with comparisons between the two launches:

【This is Hart Jewelry’s new design? All that hype for THIS?】

【My eyes are literally offended.】

【I was actually looking forward to this, but compared to Lazuli’s work? Yikes. No comparison equals no mercy.】

【Don’t even mention Hart in the same breath as Lazuli, thanks!】

Photos of our pieces were being shared everywhere, while Ivy’s designs were becoming instant meme material. The industry verdict was unanimous—Dreamland Studio had delivered innovation, while Hart Jewelry had produced derivative disappointment.

"Holy shit," I breathed, scrolling through the endless comments. "This is better than I imagined."

By midnight, we’d secured three major distribution deals and a feature spread in Vogue.

I stood near our centerpiece display, savoring the moment when Ivy stormed out of her own launch party, face twisted with fury, her assistant scrambling after her with unsold sample pieces.

"That," Maya said, clinking her glass against mine as we surveyed our triumph, "was the most satisfying business victory I’ve ever witnessed."

"Cheers to that," I replied, feeling lighter than I had in months.

Back at the studio the next morning, orders were pouring in. Our team worked frantically to meet demand, the atmosphere electric with success.

Julian joined me in my—our—office, bringing coffee and a stack of industry reviews.

"You’ve created something extraordinary here," he said, settling into his desk. "Dreamland is becoming a force to be reckoned with."

"We’re just getting started," I replied, scrolling through sales figures that made even Maya’s ambitious projections look conservative.

With the launch’s overwhelming success, I knew timing was everything. This was the perfect moment to continue my offensive against Ivy.

I messaged WhisperStream, our friendly neighborhood internet manipulator.

"It’s time for phase two," I typed. "Release the portfolio."

WhisperStream didn’t disappoint. By lunchtime, a collection of Ivy’s early design work had mysteriously appeared online.

These weren’t her polished professional pieces—these were her stumbling attempts from design school.

Awkward proportions, derivative concepts, technical flaws that any trained eye could spot immediately.

Within hours, #IvyHartFraudExposed was trending. The internet feeding frenzy was brutal:

【She calls THESE designs? My eight-year-old niece draws better!】

【Zero originality. Just copied concepts with bad execution.】

【Now we know why she needed to sabotage others—she has no actual talent herself.】

Maya burst into the office, waving her tablet. "Have you seen this? Her career is imploding in real-time!"

I allowed myself a small, satisfied smile. "Social media can be so ruthless."

"Should we feel bad?" Maya asked, though her grin suggested she didn’t feel bad at all.

"After what she tried to do to Julian? After she stole my designs?" I shook my head slowly. "No, I don’t think so."

By evening, a few sympathetic voices had emerged in the chaos:

【Come on, everyone has early work they’re not proud of. Who judges a designer by their student sketches?】

But they were quickly drowned out by an avalanche of comparisons:

【Go look at Lazuli’s early work—pure genius from day one. Some people have real talent, and some just fake it.】

I watched the comments flood in with satisfaction, sipping my tea as Ivy’s carefully crafted image crumbled in real time. Her "born genius" persona was being dismantled piece by piece.

And this was just the beginning.

Julian called around midnight. I was still up, watching the disaster unfold from my apartment.

"Have you seen what’s happening online?" His voice was soft, almost cautious.

"I might have noticed," I replied, keeping my voice neutral.

"This seems... targeted," he observed carefully. "Almost like someone with insider knowledge decided to take her down."

I remained silent for a moment, swirling the wine in my glass. "The design world can be ruthless. One day you’re celebrated, the next you’re exposed."

"True," he agreed, though I could hear the curiosity in his voice. "Just remember, Serena—when you go after someone, make sure they can never recover enough to strike back."

His words surprised me. The gentle, refined Julian apparently had a strategic mind for warfare.

"And what makes you think I had anything to do with this?" I asked, unable to keep a slight edge from my voice.

"Nothing concrete," he chuckled softly. "Just a hunch that you’re not someone who forgives being crossed. Sleep well, Serena."

As I ended the call, I gazed out my window at the city lights. This was just the beginning. Ivy had tried to destroy what I’d built, thinking I wouldn’t fight back.

She’d learn soon enough—I wasn’t just fighting back. I was obliterating her from the industry completely.

And as for Ryan supporting her? He’d made his choice. Now he could watch as his little protégé crashed and burned. I took another sip of wine, savoring the taste of revenge.