Chapter 117
Chapter 117:
The Aureate Awards ran every two years. It was an international design competition with big-name sponsors and wide press coverage.
Spots were impossible to get unless you had brand backing. Nyx barely got one entry per round.
The last guy who made it in placed nineteenth, then vanished from our office two months later with a new job and a huge contract.
I tapped my nail against the phone’s edge. “If we’re going by merit, the spot’s already mine. Giving it to anyone else would be a waste. You know that p>
“Come on!” Savannah leaned in and whispered in my ear, “Please, I’m begging you.” I didn’t move.
Savannah swore. “Fine. We’ll use the company account instead. Someone log in and repost Octavia’s tag. Make it clear Mirabelle’s ours.” One of the admin girls grabbed her laptop.
She reposted Octavia’s tag through the Nyx Collective official account.
Comments trickled in, a few at a time.
“Didn’t know @MVanceJewels worked at Nyx Collective p>
“Don’t they have a designer who copied? @ElizaBlack p>
“Doesn’t mean the whole company’s trash. It’s one person, not the whole brand p>
Savannah leaned over the screen, reading every line with her lips pressed tight.
She looked less ready to scream now.
Then Octavia posted again.
“Loved working with @MVanceJewels. Custom piece, commissioned privately. No charge. Not connected to her company in any way.” (smile emoji)
Savannah’s face drained. She stared at her phone without blinking, then read it again. And again.
Cⲟntent ⲟriginally frⲟm gⲁl𝓝𝑜ν𝖊𝗅𝘀⫸𝒸𝗈𝗺
She didn’t speak for two whole minutes.
Then her ringtone went off.
Savannah picked up, listened, hung up, and dropped into the chair like someone had kicked her knees out.
“That was Eliza’s agent. They want two hundred million in damages p>
Savannah begged and begged, almost getting on her knees.
By the end of a marathon groveling session, she’d managed to get Eliza Black’s demand cut from two hundred million to fifty million.
The project didn’t just fail to make money—it lost them fifty million.
Savannah was so furious that she ended up in bed with a stress-induced fever that same day.
Violet Lin had to cough up thirty million of that money herself to avoid being kicked out of Nyx Collective and blacklisted by the entire industry.
Her family might have made its fortune quickly, but losing thirty million all at once was still no walk in the park.