A brief silence followed. Rafael clenched his fists, struggling to contain the mix of emotions brewing inside him.
"Hold on, Victor," Rafael called in a softer tone, though it couldn't mask the uneasiness and curiosity layered beneath.
Victor halted, just steps from the door.
Rafael slowly turned to face him. "About last night—was Margaux invited to the ceremony?"
"Margaux is the CEO of Frostline Media House. She was invited since we were planning a partnership for commercial ads in our upcoming projects," Victor answered.
Rafael stared at him in disbelief. "How did I not know about this?"
"I just found out last night. She took up the position a week after we sent the contract to the previous CEO," Victor replied.
Rafael scoffed again. Frostline was a globally renowned media house, known for promoting business moguls and actively fighting against cyberbullying. All he wanted was to celebrate his new position—but instead, he had become a laughingstock.
Swallowing hard, he ordered, "Withdraw the contract. We won't work with them."
"She already declined our offer this morning. I got a call from her secretary," Victor said, equally disturbed.
What? She did that after ruining his ceremony? The previous day had been his hard-won victory—his official rise to leadership in the Vellani Empire after he had clawed his way to the top after years of being denied.
He wasn't going to let it fall apart—not after everything he'd sacrificed
"Is there no evidence from the night showing she was behind this?" Rafael asked.
"I checked the CCTV footage from the event hall. There's nothing. It only shows our staff preparing the space."
"Just get me the address of our investors. I'll meet with them myself," Rafael said firmly.
"Okay." Victor turned away.
He still couldn't grasp how Margaux had managed to sneak into a secured room and swap out his original journal. The thought wounded his pride. His alter ego had been crushed under public ridicule—something he never imagined he'd endure.
Rafael nodded slightly, conceding temporary defeat—but he wouldn't let it end this way.
A sense of relief swept over him at the thought of not seeing her again. He hoped she'd take his warning seriously. Still, he couldn't help wondering what she might do next.
Slipping a hand into his pocket, Rafael retrieved his phone and scrolled through the articles showing her standing beside him on the dais.
That look in her eyes—it was cold. Yet he couldn't deny the trace of resentment buried deep within.
Even though they hadn't crossed paths in years, he had once known Margaux's personality. But she had never dared go this far.
"How could they look alike?" Rafael muttered, tilting his head as he stared intently at the photo.
He was suddenly interrupted by a call from the landline on his desk.
Rafael picked it up. "Hello?"
"Sir!" The voice was panicked. Rafael recognized it as the receptionist.
The panic in her tone added to the tension already tightening inside him.
"Is there an issue?"
"The police are here for you, sir," she answered.
Rafael furrowed his brows. He didn't understand why the police would come for him. He hadn't committed any crime.
"All right. I'll be there," Rafael said, ending the call.
He slipped on his suit jacket, the crisp white shirt beneath left slightly unbuttoned. After a quick adjustment, he smoothed the jacket into place. His stride was confident and his expression unreadable as he walked toward the door.
As Rafael stepped out of the elevator on the ground floor, he saw two detectives waiting.
He approached them.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Rafael. I'm Detective Quinn from Haven City Police Station. I apologize for the inconvenience, but I have a warrant for your arrest," Quinn said, maintaining a respectful tone toward Rafael, who held great influence in high society.
Rafael adjusted his jacket. "What's the charge, Detective?"
Quinn held out the official warrant. "You're being charged with assault."
Rafael's eyes widened slightly, but he nodded, processing the detective's words. He recognized Quinn and decided to cooperate.
"All right, Detective. I'll cooperate."
"Thank you, Mr. Rafael. Given your status, I'll use alternative restraints," Quinn said.
Instead of handcuffs, Quinn used a wrist lock, gently guiding Rafael's hands behind his back.
"Please turn around, Mr. Rafael. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law."
As Quinn read Rafael his Miranda rights, the uniformed officers stood respectfully nearby.
They exited the building together, Quinn escorting Rafael, with the officers following behind.
****
A staff member from Frostline escorted Erica toward the CEO's office after leaving the lobby. She had been waiting, told that the CEO was in a meeting that had stretched over an hour.
When they arrived, the staff swung the door open. Erica stepped inside and approached the figure in the office, who was flipping through a file.
As she drew closer, her eyes widened in shock when she recognized the person seated at the desk. Her features were unmistakable.
Erica's gaze dropped to the nameplate on the desk: Margaux Fox, CEO. Not Madelyn Fox.
What was she playing this time? Erica thought.
Her chest rose sharply as a surge of rage burned through her.
"So it's you again," she growled, storming toward Margaux.
Margaux calmly set the file aside and looked up, her expression indifferent.
"I knew it," Erica snapped. "I knew this chaos had your name written all over it. Do you think you can win just because you own a media house?"
Margaux leaned back in her chair, folding her arms with poise. "If that's what you believe, then why are you trembling?"
"I'm not trembling," Erica denied, though her voice betrayed a faint quiver. "I just want you to understand the consequences of crossing me. You must've forgotten how I used to handle you and your pathetic sister."
Margaux's gaze dropped briefly to her own arm, where a faint scar still lingered. A bitter reminder of the lashes she and Madelyn endured—courtesy of Erica, Cecilia, and Tristan—whenever they were upset over the smallest mistakes.
Madelyn had suffered the most. The scars on her back told stories Margaux would never forget.
As the memories surged through her, Margaux's expression darkened. She clenched her fists and rose sharply from her seat, her fiery glare causing Erica to flinch.