CHAPTER 24: SKIN CARE ROUTINE

"Yes, I’ll look into it later. Make sure the dresses are ready for the girls. I’ll inform them later so they can start preparing," Megan said into her phone, her voice smooth but firm, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

After a quick confirmation on the other end, she ended the call, lowering her phone onto the desk beside a stack of neatly arranged folders.

She was seated in her expansive office on the top floor of the Veila building. The floors were polished white marble, the walls adorned with soft matte textures and curated art. Floor-to-ceiling windows allowed the evening sunlight to bathe the room in gold, casting long shadows and reflecting softly off the glossy surfaces.

She had barely returned her attention to the open folder in front of her when the double doors slammed open with a loud crack, startling the silence.

Sharp heels clicked rapidly against the pristine floor like gunfire—rushed, aggressive, and without apology.

Megan didn’t bother to look up. She recognized that entrance. No one else had such an entitled stomp.

"You need to get rid of Alisha De Rossi," came the demand, high-pitched and venom-laced.

A muscle twitched in Megan’s cheek, but her eyes remained on her file.

"You’re a lot braver than I thought, Katherine," Megan said coolly, finally lifting her gaze. "Considering you’re signed under my company, making me your boss, I could easily terminate our contract over any form of disrespect. Yet here you are... barging into my office with a demand?"

Her voice was calm—way too calm.

Katherine stood at the center of the room, hands clenched by her sides, her expression twisted in indignation.

"You have the audacity to tell me what to do?" Megan’s eyes narrowed just slightly. "Bold move."

Katherine’s breath hitched, but her tone didn’t waver. "You were going to replace me with Alisha..:"

"When did I say that?" Megan asked smoothly, raising a brow. Her lips curled into a knowing smirk. "Ah... your husband told you."

She leaned back slightly in her chair, crossing one leg over the other. "Touché."

Earlier that week, Megan had received a call from Nathan Cross, Katherine’s husband and one of Veila’s main sponsors, demanding the removal of Alisha De Rossi from the show. The request had been abrupt and aggressive, clearly fueled by something personal. Megan hadn’t taken it seriously.

Nathan had threatened to pull his sponsorship, but Megan knew the game far too well. One sponsor leaving wasn’t the end of the road, especially not when Dante De Rossi was still backing them. And if she had to choose between Nathan’s ego and Dante’s support, the choice was already made.

"I know your plan," Katherine said through clenched teeth.

Megan lifted a brow in amusement. "Please... enlighten me."

"You’re only using Alisha because she reminds you of Eva, right?" Katherine sneered. "You think you’ve found a new puppet to wrap around your finger and parade as your next prodigy—"

"Katherine," Megan cut in, her voice sharp now, the smile gone. "I’m not like you. I don’t manipulate and throw people away like they’re disposable."

Katherine scoffed.

"I’ve been running this company long before you arrived. Every decision I make is for the growth of Veila and the benefit of the girls who trust this agency to shape their futures. I’m not pulling Alisha out of the show no matter what you or your husband throw at me."

She turned her attention back to her desk as if dismissing a child.

"The door is right there."

Katherine stood there, fists clenched so tightly that her nails dug into her palms. Her breathing had grown shallow with fury, but she didn’t argue further.

She turned on her heel and stormed toward the exit.

But just as her hand reached the door, Megan spoke again, this time without even glancing up.

"And one more thing."

Katherine paused.

"You and Bethany better end whatever charade you’re cooking up. If I get concrete proof either of you were involved in Hex’s allergy attack..." Megan’s voice dipped, cold and clear. "You’ll be out of this industry before you can bat another false eyelash."

There was no need to finish the sentence. The threat hung in the air like a blade.

Katherine took a sharp breath, her spine stiffening, before she left the room and shut the door quietly behind her.

Elsewhere...

"So... what are you planning now? Are you still set on killing Jaime Lorenzo?" Rico asked, dabbing a soft pink gloss onto his lips as he stared at his reflection in the mirror.

He turned slightly toward Dante, who was seated at the edge of the bed, spinning a gun in his palm.

"The election’s close," Dante replied, his voice low, thoughtful. "But there’s still time for him to reconsider."

"And if he doesn’t?" Rico capped the gloss and tossed it into a tray filled with color-coded makeup items. "Would you kill him?"

Dante let out a slow exhale. Rico had always been the type who wouldn’t stop pressing until he had his answer.

"If I don’t," Dante said at last, "he’ll kill her."

That shut Rico up for a second. His gaze flicked to the gun in Dante’s hand.

"In that case... you’ll have to either actually kill him," Rico said, rising to his feet, "or make it look like you did."

Dante didn’t respond. He already knew what had to be done. He’d planned for it. Killing Jaime was one thing—but scaring him into silence might be smarter. At least for now.

He studied Rico more closely. The man’s face was oddly smooth today—unusually radiant.

"What are you looking at?" Rico asked, turning bashfully and covering his cheek with a hand.

"What’s your skincare routine?" Dante asked with a straight-face.

Meanwhile...

Alisha stood on a narrow street in the outskirts of Lexora, staring at the cluster of children huddled together in the cold.

They were barefoot, wrapped in torn shirts and stained pants, shivering as they held out their tiny palms for alms. Their eyes wide, hopeful clung to her every move as if she were some kind of miracle.

Alisha’s jaw clenched. This wasn’t how things were supposed to be.

She looked up at the scattered remnants of homes—shattered wooden walls and collapsed roofs. The recent landslide had wrecked the community, but the true damage ran deeper. Where was the governor? Where was Dante?

"Mr. De Rossi hasn’t arrived yet," she murmured to herself.

It was his duty to be here. As the governor of Lexora, he should’ve been the first on the scene—offering aid, hope, at the very least presence. But he was nowhere in sight.

What was he planning?

"Get them clothes," she instructed Ryan, who immediately relayed her order to the crew behind them.

Within minutes, the team returned with thick blankets, jackets, and flasks of hot tea. Mothers wept quietly as they wrapped their children. The younger ones clung to the warmth like lifelines.

Alisha crouched near a little girl who was rubbing her hands together to fight the cold.

"Drink this, okay?" she said gently, offering the tea.

The girl nodded shyly.

"I want to show you something," Ryan suddenly said, appearing at her side.

She stood and followed him toward the supply truck, where one of the crew members handed him a large box. Ryan opened it and pulled out a sealed transparent bag.

Inside were small packets—capsules and powdered pills.

Alisha took the bag and examined the contents with furrowed brows.

"This was found in all the houses," Ryan explained grimly.

"Have you had them tested yet?" she asked.

Ryan nodded. "Our team ran quick samples. It’s a drug, likely synthetic. And judging from the quantity, it’s been distributed here for a while now."

Alisha looked from the bag back to the families in the distance. Children, mothers, fathers, all exposed.

’What’s going on here?’