Olivia’s POV
I stare at my phone , the screen glowing in the dim backstage chaos . My Veritas post : Truth wins — hits a million likes , the number climbing fast.
But Marcus’s name trends right beside it, his face in a blurry paparazzi shot, jaw tight, eyes furious.
The cease-and-desist paper crinkles in my hand , Marcus’s lawyer’s words burning : Veritas infringes CB Designs .
My fingers tremble , the rooftop’s city lights blurring through the service elevator’s glass walls .
Damien stands beside me , his cologne sharp , his silence heavy .
“Harper,” he says, voice low, cutting through the assistants’ chatter outside. “Give me that.”
I hand him the paper , my throat tight . “ He’s trying to bury me .”
He scans it, jaw ticking. “He won’t. Not on my watch.”
“Your watch?” I say, crossing my arms. “This is my fight.”
His blue eyes lock on mine, fierce. “Not anymore. You’re Voss now.”
The elevator dings , opening to the penthouse’s private office : sleek wood desk , floor-to-ceiling windows framing a dawn sky streaked pink .
The air smells of leather and coffee , a single lamp casting soft shadows .
Legal files are stacked high , a laptop open to Veritas’s trending hashtag .
Sophia bursts in , heels clicking on the hardwood . “ Liv ! A million likes ! You’re a star !”
I hug her, my hands still shaking. “Marcus is suing. Says I stole from Chloe.”
Her eyes widen . “ That’s bullshit . Your sketches are older than her whole brand .”
“Exactly,” I say, pulling out my phone, scrolling to timestamped photos. “Proof’s right here.”
Damien’s lawyer , a sharp woman named Claire , strides in , briefcase in hand . “ Let’s see the evidence , Ms. Harper .”
I show her the sketches : dated, detailed, Veritas’s DNA. “These are mine. From before Marcus even met Chloe.”
Claire nods , typing on her tablet. “Solid. We’ll counter-file by noon.”
Damien leans against the desk , arms crossed . “Harper , you’re Veritas’s sole creator?”
I stand tall, chin up. “Always was. Olivia Harper, not Warrick. That’s who I am.”
His eyes soften, a crack in his icy front. “You hid that well.”
“Had to,” I say, voice steady. “Marcus would’ve crushed it.”
Sophia squeezes my hand. “He tried. You’re unstoppable now.”
Claire closes her briefcase. “We need a statement. Veritas is you…. full reveal?”
I hesitate, pulse racing. “Not yet. Let the designs speak first.”
Damien nods. “Smart. Keep them guessing.”
Nora slinks in, smirking. “Press is eating this up. Marcus’s team is leaking ‘copycat’ rumors.”
“Let them,” I say, fists clenching. “Truth wins.”
Damien’s gaze flicks to me. “It does. Claire, kill the rumors. Now.”
“On it,” she says, already dialing.
Sophia’s phone pings. “Veritas just hit 1.5 million followers. Overnight!”
I laugh , the sound shaky but real . “ That’s insane .”
“ You’re insane ,” she says , grinning . “ In the best way .”
Damien steps closer, voice low. “Harper, the NDA. Clause 7.”
My stomach drops. “You’re enforcing it?”
He pulls the signed NDA from a drawer , holding it up . “ This. ” He tears it in half , then again , pieces fluttering to the desk . “ Gone .”
I blink , throat tight . “ Why ?”
“New contract,” he says, sliding a fresh folder across. “Full partnership. Fifty percent Voss-Veritas collab. You’re not a trial anymore.”
My hands shake as I open it—terms generous, my name bold. “Fifty percent? You’re the billionaire here.”
He shrugs, a rare smile tugging. “You’re the talent. I’m the platform.”
Sophia whistles. “Liv, this is huge!”
I meet his eyes. “What’s the catch?”
“No catch,” he says, stepping closer. “But I’m the majority shareholder of Voss Luxury. Not just a model. You’re in my world now.”
My pulse jumps. “You’re the Voss?”
“Always was,” he says, voice soft but firm. “Board answers to me.”
I laugh, sharp. “You let me think you were just a pretty face.”
“Pretty?” he says, smirking . “ Careful , Harper .”
“ Don’t flatter yourself ,” I say , but my cheeks burn .
Claire clears her throat . “Sign, Ms. Harper. This buries Marcus.”
I grab a pen, signing fast : Olivia Harper, my name a claim. “Done.”
Damien’s fingers brush mine as he takes the contract, a jolt sparking. “Good. We’re a team.”
“Team?” I say, raising a brow. “You don’t do teams.”
“ I do now ,” he says , eyes locked on mine . “ Don’t make me regret it .”
Sophia grins. “You two are trouble.”
“Shut it,” I say, laughing.
Nora rolls her eyes, muttering. “This’ll end badly.”
Damien shoots her a look. “Out, Nora.”
She huffs, leaving. The room quiets, just us and the city’s dawn glow.
I lean against the desk, heart racing. “Why bet on me, Damien?”
He pauses, voice low. “I don’t do attachments. But I just bet my board on you.”
My breath catches . “ That’s a big bet .”
“ You’re worth it ,” he says , stepping closer . “So far.”
“ Don’t underestimate me again ,” I say , voice fierce.
“ Wouldn’t dream of it ,” he says , his hand grazing my arm .
The air crackles, his eyes searching mine.
Sophia coughs, breaking the moment. “I’m still here, guys.”
I laugh, stepping back. “Sorry, Soph.”
Damien smirks, turning to his laptop. “Press conference tomorrow. We announce the collab.”
“Already?” I ask, hands on hips.
“ Strike while it’s hot ,” he says . “ Marcus won’t know what hit him .”
My phone pings : a DM on Veritas’s Instagram. I open it, the screen glowing: Proud of you, Harper. Keep the truth coming. — E.B.
My heart stops. E.B.— Who is E.B .?
“ Liv ?” Sophia asks , leaning over. “What’s that?”
I show her, voice low. “Someone’s watching.”
Damien glances over, eyes narrowing. “Who’s E.B.?”
“ No idea ,” I say , shoving the phone away . My hands shake , but I hide it .
Sophia frowns . “ That’s creepy .”
“Focus on the win,” Damien says, voice firm. “We’ve got a war to fight.”
I nod, but the DM burns in my mind. “War it is.”
My phone pings again — another DM : Truth has a price , Harper. Pay it. — E.B.
