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The question buzzed in my head, relentless, refusing to settle.
I paced as I tried to come up with names—anyone who might have a reason to do this.
Other chefs. Competitors. People I’d clashed with over the years. The list wasn’t exactly short, but still… this?
This took more than just resentment. It took connections. It took money. Sure, I’d butted heads with people before.
In this industry, egos clashed like knives against cutting boards, sharp and unforgiving.
I’d had my share of arguments, had made decisions that pissed off the wrong people. But would any of them really go this far?
I thought about former colleagues, rival restaurateurs, critics I might have rubbed the wrong way.
Some of them had been ruthless in the past, but this wasn’t just a bad review or some gossip floating around the industry.
This was an orchestrated attack.
I swallowed, my throat dry.
Whoever was behind this didn’t just want to rattle me. They wanted to bury me.
And the worst part?
I had no idea who it was.
I gripped my phone tighter, my fingers trembling around the smooth edges.
The weight in my chest pressed down harder, squeezing my lungs until it felt impossible to draw in a full breath.Stay calm. Think.
But how the hell was I supposed to stay calm when my reputation—my entire career—was being dragged through the mud in front of the entire industry?
The words blurred together, but they were already seared into my mind. Lies. Every single one of them.
But that wouldn’t matter to the people reading. Perception was everything in the culinary world.
A single bad headline could sink a restaurant, and an article like this? It could be a death sentence.
The panic clawing at my ribs tightened its grip. This wasn’t just some petty feud—this was sabotage.
And if I didn’t act fast, it wouldn’t just be my name on the line. Amélie. My staff. Christian’s company.
Would he regret working with me now?
The thought hit harder than I expected, sending a sharp pang through my chest.
I had told myself I wouldn’t let emotions get tangled in this deal.
However, the idea of Christian seeing this, of him questioning if he’d made a mistake betting on me, made my stomach twist.
No.I forced the panic back with sheer determination.
The voice on the phone broke through my spiraling thoughts. “Miss Lane?”
I inhaled sharply, forcing my voice to stay even. “I’d like to go on record and say that none of these allegations are true. Whoever your sources are, they’re lying.”
Madison sighed. “I figured you’d say that. But you should know… stories like this have a way of sticking.”
“I don’t play dirty,” I snapped. “If I wanted to succeed in this industry, I’d do it through talent and hard work, not by stepping on other people.”