Gemma looked as if she''d seen a ghost. Her voice wavered as she muttered, "How could this happen? Impossible. This is absolutely impossible."
Just that morning, she''d watched Heather storm out in a rage, even pping her twice. Candy had been dered allergic-Gemma had heard it with her own ears.
But now, Candy stood right in front of her, dressed to perfection, her makeup wless, with not the slightest hint of the rash Gemma had banked on. To make matters worse, Candy was performing the theme song for the promotional video. Whether intentional or not, the smile on Candy''s face felt like a dagger, sharp and mocking.
Gemma squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her fists until her nails dug into her palms. A chill swept over her, though she couldn''t tell if it was the cutting wind or the icy dread settling in her chest.
She had lost. Completely.
Her carefullyid n had detonated in her face. She''d hoped to use Candy''s supposed "allergy" to wreck Heather''s reputation, undermine Ian''s recent progress, and, above all, throw Aurora''s productunch into chaos. She''d imagined Aurora''s frustration, her humiliation.
But now, the castle of her schemes had crumbled. Her dream of revengey in ruins. Worse, her failure wasn''t just personal-she was staring down the very real prospect of being fired by Sun.
If her n had seeded, the fallout wouldn''t have mattered. Losing her job would''ve been a small price to pay for the damage she could''ve inflicted on her rivals. But instead, not only had they escaped unscathed, they''d triumphed. Gemma stood there, drowning in her defeat, while Candy''s bright, mocking eyes seemed to pierce straight through her.
Theughter and music from the crowd felt distant and cruel. Gemma''s chest tightened, smothering her. She couldn''t bear it. Without so much as a nce back, she slipped away from the bustling scene.
Aurora''sunch event was nothing short of a spectacle. The venue pulsed with energy- music,ughter, and celebration spilling out into the night. In contrast, Marcos'' event was bleak, lifeless, and already fading into irrelevance.
Marcos had underestimated Aurora from the start. He''d dismissed her efforts as amateurish, confident that his reputation alone would carry the day. He hadn''t bothered to put much thought into the early stages of promotion.
Even the celebrity guest he''d invited, Sophie, was ast-minute addition. She was a moderately popr actress in Clothville, but her fame couldn''t hold a candle to Candy''s star power. And Candy wasn''t just attending Aurora''s event-she was performing.
Her live rendition of the theme song was an instant hit, pulling the crowd toward Aurora''s venue like a ma.
Aurora''s event had it all: celebrities, luxury cars, influencers, and meticulous nning. Everything had fallen perfectly into ce-timing, location, and execution. The result was a dazzling celebration that felt less like a productunch and more like a g for the elite.
Marcos, on the other hand, had nothing topete. Sophie, standing underwhelmed in the spotlight, had no special performance nned. The entire event felt rushed and uninspired.
As the crowd began to thin, the cracks in Marcos'' strategy grew impossible to ignore. "This is boring," someone muttered.
"Yeah, let''s check out the other party," another chimed in.
And just like that, the crowd surged toward Aurora''s venue.
Reporters scrambled to cover the action. Multiple tforms began live-streaming the event, making the excitement essible to viewers everywhere.
Sophie, left standing awkwardly in the nearly empty room, felt humiliation creeping up her spine. She couldn''t take it anymore.
"I have another appointment," she muttered to Susan, her voice tight.
Susan tried to stop her, but Sophie shook her off. She''d only agreed to attend as a favor, and with the event turning into such a disaster, she saw no reason to stay.
Unpaid, unappreciated, and now humiliated, Sophie wasn''t about to let this debacle tarnish her reputation. She slipped out, taking her fans with her.
By the time she was gone, Marcos''unch event was a ghost town.
Meanwhile, Aurora''s venue was overflowing. The buzz of excitement was palpable, the energy electric.
The on-site sales had begun, and the results were staggering. Aurora''s product was a limited edition-only 1, 000 bottles had been produced. Half of those were avable for purchase at the event, and all 500 bottles sold out in less than twenty minutes.
The allure of the celebrity endorsement, the emotional resonance of the promotional campaign, and the exclusivity of the product had created a perfect storm. Women rushed to buy, the words "limited edition" driving them into a frenzy.
Those lucky enough to snag a bottle were ecstatic, while those who missed out jumped at the chance to pre-order. Aurora''s team had nned for this, offering a pre- order system for the second batch. Customers could pay a deposit to secure their bottle, guaranteeing delivery before the product hit store shelves.
The strategy was genius, and the results showed it. Some buyers even ordered extra bottles for friends, while scalpers joined in, sensing a lucrative opportunity.
The scene was chaotic-an overwhelming sess by any measure.
In stark contrast, Marcos'' side was a wastnd. Tens of thousands of bottles sat untouched.
Susan, standing beside Marcos, tugged at his sleeve. "Marcos, let''s go. The staff can handle this."
Marcos didn''t respond. His jaw was tight, his gaze fixed on Aurora''s triumphant venue across the way.
As Marcos and Susan left, reporters swarmed them. Cameras shed, microphones thrust forward.
"Mr. Giron, you spent months preparing for thisunch. Are you satisfied with today''s results?"
Marcos clenched his fists. The question hung in the air like a taunt.
"Mr. Giron, it''s been said that Miss Montgomery initially wanted to coborate with
you. Why do you think she chose to start her own brand instead?"
"Mr. Giron, how are you feeling about today'' event?"
The reporters didn''t let up, their questions sharp and relentless. Marcos remained
silent, his expression frozen, his defeatid bare for all to see.