Mr. Miller''s pnded with brutal force. Ever since Margaret''s scandal broke out, Glory Media''s reputation had taken a nosedive online, and thepany''s artists were all feeling the fallout.


    But that wasn''t even the worst of it. In their upper-crust circles, news traveled fast. Word was already spreading that the Miller family''s troubles were all thanks to Remington''s doing. The moment people caught wind of that, those fair-weather friends and opportunists-who had been so eager to cozy up before-started backing out of deals and making excuses. A handful of promising partnerships had stalled overnight.


    Mr. Miller was desperate, running around trying to mend fences. He''d been drinking and schmoozing so much his beer belly had grown noticeablyrger.


    Yet just as he was scrambling to plug the leaks, his reckless daughter came barreling in and smashed straight through the wall-almost literally.


    He didn''t hold back with that p. Margaret crumpled to the floor, screaming. Blood welled at the corner of her mouth, and an angry red welt bloomed across her cheek.


    Her ears rang, everything spinning as she looked up at her father.


    "Dad... you hit me... why...?" she sobbed, voice thick with disbelief. She''d always been the spoiled princess at home, buttely, she''d tasted nothing but misery. She''d never suffered like this in her life.


    "You dare cry? Who the hell do you think you are, meddling in Mr. Dashiell''s affairs? Lost your mind, have you? Get over there and apologize to him—now!"


    Mr. Miller, red-faced with rage, lunged for Margaret''s arm. She shrank back, but Mrs. Miller hurried forward, trying to intervene, only to be shoved aside by her furious husband.


    Margaret, still crying, was dragged to stand before Remington.


    "Apologize!" Mr. Miller barked.


    Margaret pressed a trembling hand to her burning cheek, choking back sobs. "Mr. Dashiell, I''m so sorry. I didn''t know those videos and rumors would make you so angry. I thought you''d... I thought you''d actually want this to happen..."


    "You thought?" Remington finally looked up, his eyes cial. "And what gave you the courage to think that?"


    Margaret instinctively nced at Ste, searching for help. But Ste suddenly stood, rushing over to grab Margaret''s hand, her voice anxious.


    "Margaret, did you do all this for me? I told you already-there''s no way Remington and could ever work... out he''s in love with Lizett? ne won''t ever look back at me. Why would you still... You''re being foolish!"


    Ste''s eyes shone with tears-her look both moved and helpless. But in


    her words, she washed her as of


    it all She''d made things clear; Margaret''s actions were ber ow and none of it was Ste''s responsibility.


    Margaret stared at her in shock, unable to believe what she was hearing. "Ste, you-"


    She didn''t get to finish. Ste squeezed her hand tightly, soothing her with a soft whisper.


    "Margaret, I know you meant well. I promise I''ll plead with Remington for you."


    Her grip tightened, the pressure a silent warning. She was telling Margaret not to be stupid. If


    Margaret dragged her down now Remington would only be angrier, and both of them would pay the price.


    MS


    If, instead, Margaret let her off the hook, Ste could still beg Remington for mercy


    on her behalf. That was the only y left.


    Margaret hesitated, searching Ste''s face, trying to decide if she could trust her. Just then, Remington let out a cold chuckle.


    "I had no idea Ms. West''s opinion counted for so much around here."


    Ste hadn''t expected Remington to call her out so directly. Her expression flickered, and she looked up at him—only to meet that sharp, knowing gaze that seemed to see right through her.