Chapter 7
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Father sat in his study, cigar in hand, his eyes revealing genuine concern as I entered.
I took the seat across from him.
"Tell me what you want to do."
I placed a folder on his desk.
"Daniel's agency is drowning in debt. I want to buy it."
Father's eyebrows shot up.
"You want to become his boss?"
"No." My voice was ice. "I want to destroy his career. I want to leave him with nothing."
Father studied me intently, then smiled with approval.
"Welcome back, my daughter." He pressed the intercom. "Tell Finance to prepare fifty million."
"Right away, sir," came the secretary's response.
Father turned back to me.
"This time, handle it like a Walton, won't you?"
I nodded once.
Father hired the industry's top private investigators to dig into Daniel and Susan.
They delivered results with impressive speed.
A stack of photos and videos landed on my desk.
Photos of Daniel and Susan entering and leaving hotel rooms.
Surveillance footage of Susan sneaking from Daniel's apartment at dawn.
Credit card statements showing Daniel using my supplementary card to buy Susan designer gifts.
I flipped through the evidence, my face a perfect mask.
The lead investigator continued his briefing.
"We've uncovered quite a bit on Miss Susan as well. Pre-surgery photos, records of her working as a hostess in high-end clubs, bank transfers showing she bought followers and engagement, and clear evidence she's plagiarized content from other influencers."
"Excellent," I said. "Secure everything and await my instructions."
"When do you want to release this?"
I looked up, my eyes cold.
"No rush. Let them soar a bit higher. The fall will be that much more spectacular."
The investigator nodded and withdrew.
Alone, I stared at the damning photos.
Daniel using my own money to shower Susan with gifts.
I'd given him that card for work expenses and emergencies. Never imagined he'd use it to spoil his mistress.
Daniel, you truly are garbage.
That's fine. You'll pay for every cent of it.
At the Walton Corporation board meeting, I proposed acquiring the debt of Daniel's agency.
The board members exchanged confused glances.
"That agency is two million in the hole. What's the business case for acquisition?"
"They owe two million. I'm offering three million for total control—debt and equity. I'll handle the restructuring personally."
The directors looked at each other uneasily.
"Alice, are you planning to..."
"Fire Daniel?" I finished for them. "No. Not just fire him. I want him to sign a humiliating contract and watch him destroy himself piece by piece."
The boardroom fell silent.
Eventually, they approved my proposal.
The acquisition moved swiftly.
The agency's owner had been desperate to sell. When offered three million—a million more than his debt—he signed the papers within 24 hours.
Within a week, I controlled Daniel's agency.
I kept my identity hidden, operating through proxy lawyers.
Daniel had no idea I was now his boss.
In my office, I traced my signature on the acquisition documents, feeling a surge of dark satisfaction.
Daniel, you couldn't have imagined this in your wildest nightmares, could you?
You thought you'd discarded me, but now your fate rests in my hands.
Father entered without knocking.
"Has it begun?"
"Yes."
"Do you need my help?"
"Not yet. I want to savor this."
Father smiled knowingly.
"Very well. I'll enjoy the show."
One month later, I began systematically dismantling Daniel's future.
Daniel had three major projects in development.
A sequel to a blockbuster franchise, an arthouse film with award potential, and a project with an A-list director.
Each could elevate his career to true A-list status.
I wouldn't allow any of them to happen.
I started with the franchise sequel.
Through Father's connections, I reached out to the film's investors and suggested they "reconsider the casting direction."
Within days, the studio announced they were recasting the male lead.
Daniel was out.
His agent called frantically, demanding explanations. The investors simply stated that "the actor no longer aligns with our vision for the character."
For the arthouse film, where the Walton family was the primary investor, I simply pulled our funding.
The production collapsed overnight.
Finally, there was the A-list director's project.
I called the director personally and suggested Daniel "lacked the necessary depth for the role."
The director—no fool—called Daniel the next day to inform him they were "going in a different direction."
Within a week, all three projects had evaporated, and whispers about Daniel's "difficult behavior" began circulating in industry circles.
His agent was frantic, calling everyone he knew, trying to understand what was happening.
No one gave him straight answers.
Daniel sensed the orchestration behind his downfall and began to panic.
He called me.
I let it ring.
He texted.
"Alice, where are you? We need to talk."
I didn't respond.
Another message followed.
"Alice, I know I messed up. Please, can we just talk?"
His desperate plea made me laugh coldly.
Now he admits his mistake?
Too late.
Daniel's career imploded spectacularly.
Without work, his income dried up. The mansion he'd bought for Susan was repossessed. His Ferrari was auctioned off to cover debts.
He began desperately borrowing money, but Hollywood's memory is short and its loyalty nonexistent. No one would touch him.
His relationship with Susan quickly showed strain.
Susan had signed up for the wealthy rising star, not the desperate has-been. Her contempt became increasingly obvious.
My investigator brought me a recording of their latest fight.
"All you do is spend! Don't you get it? I'm broke!" Daniel shouted.
"You promised you'd take care of me..." Susan whined through tears.
"Just leave me alone!"
As I listened, I savored the irony.
Wasn't this exactly how he'd treated me?
When I no longer served his purpose, he'd discarded me.
Susan had been his willing accomplice. Now karma was working its magic on both of them.
