Chapter 75

**Victoria's POV**

My trembling fingers scrolled through yet another scathing headline:"Victoria Taylor: Hollywood's Newest Fraud Exposed!" I threw my phone across the bedroom, watching with grim satisfaction as it bounced off my silk pillows. The sound wasn't nearly as satisfying as glass shattering against the wall-like the vase I'd destroyed yesterday, or the crystal decanter from the day before.

"Miss Victoria?" A timid knock at the door. "Would you like some breakfast?"

"Get the fuck away from my door!" I screamed, hurling a designer shoe at the wooden panel. The thud was followed by hurried footsteps retreating down the hall.

I collapsed onto my bed, curling into a fetal position as tears burned behind my eyelids.

My phone buzzed again from somewhere in the bedding.

And those photos... God, those photos. The ones my PR team had assured me were destroyed years ago. I'd been young, desperate, and stupid. Now they were everywhere.

I scrolled through my contacts, desperate for anyone who might help. My agent's calls went straight to voicemail after he'd delivered the news yesterday: "Take some time off, Victoria. We'll reassess when this blows over." Translation: you're toxic, and we're cutting you loose.

"This is fucking insane," I whispered to my empty room, voice cracking from hours of screaming and crying. "Who would do this to me?"

My phone buzzed with an email notification: *Dear Ms. Taylor,*

*In light of recent events, Luminous Cosmetics regrets to inform you that we must terminate our contract effective immediately. As per section 12.3of our agreement regarding moral turpitude clauses...*

I didn't bother reading the rest. That was the fifth brand to drop me in three days.

A sob tore from my throat as I hurled my phone at the mirror, watching my reflection splinter into a thousand pieces. The crash brought an immediate pounding on my door.

"Victoria!" My mother's voice, sharp with concern. "Open this door right now!"

"Go away!" I screamed back, my voice raw.

"Victoria, darling, please!" The doorknob rattled.

I collapsed onto the floor amidst the shattered glass, too exhausted to fight anymore. "It's open," I finally called out.

Mom rushed in, her perfectly manicured hand flying to her mouth at the sight of me surrounded by broken glass. "Oh my God, Victoria! What have you done?"

"What have *I* done?" I laughed bitterly. "I didn't do anything! Someone is trying to destroy me!" Her eyes swept over the destruction of my room-the overturned furniture,shattered glass, clothes strewn everywhere. For three days, I'd refused to let the staff clean, preferring to wallow in the physical manifestation of my ruined life. "You can't stay like this," she said firmly, stepping carefully through the debris. "Look at yourself."

I caught a glimpse in what remained of my mirror-mascara streaked down hollow cheeks, unwashed hair clinging to my scalp, designer pajamas wrinkled and stained. I barely recognized myself.

Mom's face twisted with a mixture of heartbreak and frustration. "How long are you going to keep acting like this? Look at yourself!" She gestured wildly at my disheveled appearance. "You've barely eaten anything for two days. You break whatever the staff brings you. What's the point of all this?

"1

The concern in her voice broke through the numbness that had been my only protection. Tears welled up and spilled over before I could stop them.

"But Mom, what am I supposed to do? My career is over!" The words caught in my throat, choking me. "The agency says I should 'take a break,'but I know they're just dumping me. All those brands are canceling my contracts." My voice cracked with desperation. "Mom, who would do this to me?"

"I worked so hard to become a star," I whispered, clutching at her sleeves like a child. "I can't let my career end like this! Mom, please help me!"

I watched her face closely, panic rising as I saw the uncertainty in her eyes.Mom's brow furrowed as she seemed to mentally sort through her options.For the first time, I realized she might not have an immediate answer.The thought was terrifying. "Mom, don't you love me anymore?" The words came out childish and desperate. "Are you just going to watch while someone destroys me?" Her expression hardened at that, her spine straightening. "How could you say that? Of course I love you!" She pulled me into her arms, stroking my tangled hair..05You're my only daughter that matters.I'd do anything for you. There is a solution, but..."

Hope flared in my chest, bright and desperate. "But what?" I grabbed her hands, squeezing them tightly. "Mom, I knew you'd have a plan. What is it?"

Mom's eyes met mine, calculating. "What about Alexander? Have you forgotten him?"

"Alexander?" The name felt strange on my tongue. In the chaos of the past few days, I'd barely thought about my fiancé.

*Oh God, Alexander.* Had he seen the headlines? The photos? The accusations? Panic clawed at my throat. What if the Stark family decided I was too much of a liability? The engagement had never just been about love-it was a business arrangement too, a way to secure my family's standing with my shares in Capital Corp.

My fingers dug into Mom's arms with bruising force, my nails leaving half-moon imprints in her skin. She winced, drawing in a sharp breath.

"Victoria! What are you doing?" Her voice was tight with pain.

I released her immediately, summoning the expression that had won me my first movie role-wide eyes, trembling lower lip, the perfect picture of vulnerability. "Mom, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. It's just...Alexander hasn't even called to check on me.I..." Mom's expression suddenly shifted, the slight narrowing of her eyes indicating she'd just had an idea. "Do you remember that important guest at your grandfather's birthday party?" The question seemed odd, disconnected from our conversation. "Mom, you mean...Brandon Stark?" "Exactly." Her eyes gleamed wih purpose. "Isn't Alexander related to Brandon? If Brandon Stark helps us, your problems will disappear overnight!"

But I remembered our last encounter-how he'd looked straight through me, pretending not to even know who I was. The memory stung. My brief moment of hope deflated.

"But that Brandon Stark is so awful," I began, the complaint automatic. "He-"

"Do you want to salvage your career or not?" Mom cut me off sharply,her voice like a whip.

I flinched at her tone.

"If you want to stay in Hollywood, sometimes you need to swallow your pride," she continued, her eyes hard. "Besides, if our family connects with Brandon Stark, your father wouldn't need to beg the Windsors for anything."

I knew what she wasn't saying. The Windsors had pulled their investment after that disaster with Summer at Grandpa's birthday party. No one on Wall Street would touch Taylor family businesses now. Dad had been locked in his study for days, making desperate calls to save Capital Corp.

But still...Brandon Stark? The man intimidated me in a way few people ever had. There was something in those cold eyes that made me feel transparent, like he could see through every calculated move I'd ever made. If he'd been so dismissive before, why would he help me now? Unless...Alexander could convince him. After all,they were family,even if distant. I needed to believe this would work. "Alexander and Brandon must be

close. right? Alexander and Brandon will definitely help me!"

Mom's smile was triumphant. "Of course he will. You're gorgeous, darling.Any man would fall for you!"