Page 24

It was absurd. Insulting, even. Scarlett wasn’t cutthroat, wasn’t ruthless.
She didn’t have the fire it took to survive in this industry, not like V did.
And yet,she thought bitterly,she gets everything handed to her.
Christian Valen wasn’t just any investor. He wastheinvestor—one of the most powerful men in the industry.
With his backing, Amélie wouldn’t just thrive; it would dominate. It would overshadow everything else in the city, includingher.
That thought sent a fresh wave of fury through her.
She had spent years building her name, clawing her way to the top in an industry that devoured the weak.
She had played the game ruthlessly, making the right connections, stepping over anyone who got in her way.
She wasn’t about to let Scarlett swoop in with her humble charm and oh-so-talented culinary skills and take what should have been hers.
No.
If Scarlett wanted to play in the big leagues, then she needed to learn the hard way that success came with a price.
V reached for her phone, her mind already spinning with ideas.
If Christian Valen wanted to back Amélie, fine. But she’d make sure he regretted it.
She scrolled through her contacts until she found the name she was looking for.
Jordan Meyer, editor-in-chief of Luxe Dining Magazine.
Jordan owed her a favor. Several, actually.
She hit call, tapping her manicured nails against the counter as she waited.
“V, darling,” Jordan answered smoothly. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“I have a story for you,” she said, keeping her voice composed despite the fire burning in her veins. “One you’re going to want to print immediately.”
Jordan chuckled. “Oh? And what kind of story are we talking about?”
She let a slow, wicked smile curl her lips. “A scandal, of course.”
There was a pause on the other end before Jordan’s interest sharpened. “I’m listening.”
V turned, gazing out the window at the glittering city below. “You know Scarlett Lane, don’t you? Owner of Amélie?”
“Of course. Rising star, incredible chef. Word is she just landed a partnership with Valen Enterprises.”
The words tasted like acid.
“Exactly,” V said, voice dripping with false sweetness. “But did you know she has a history of… let’s say, questionable business practices?”
Another pause. “Go on.”
V slid into a barstool, enjoying this now. The power. The control.
If Scarlett wanted to play with the big names, she’d learn what real competition looked like.
“There was an incident a while back,” she said, fabricating the details as she spoke. “A former sous chef at Amélie. Talented guy, full of promise. He was forced out under… shady circumstances.”