“Don’t worry, Celly. He promised he wouldn’t,” Mirabelle breathed a sigh of relief. “I just sent him fifty photos.”
Celestine frowned. “Mirabelle, don’t be ridiculous.”
She was about to scold Mirabelle for being hopelessly lovesick when Mirabelle giggled. “They’re my best-kept photos, the prettiest ones. I almost didn’t want to share! I sent you a copy too—check your phone.”
Celestine’s phone chimed with a new message.
She opened their chat, surprised.
Inside were all sorts of Mirabelle’s old photos from when she was a teenager.
Compared to Joanna’s carefully staged, artificial shots, Mirabelle’s natural, untouched face was strikingly beautiful, untainted by any cosmetic work.
Celestine’s heart, which had been lodged in her throat, finally settled. She couldn’t help but praise her. “That’s just like you. Always stunning.”
…
After Mirabelle agreed, Zeke wasted no time forwarding her photos to Joanna.
“Joanna, I got the photos. Go through them and see if any will work—just crush that damn PR disaster already!”
Joanna stared at the stream of Mirabelle’s pictures in her inbox, her teeth grinding with jealousy.
Voice trembling, she snapped, “Zeke, if you’re not going to help me, just say so. Let everyone drag me through the mud—I’ll just quit the industry tomorrow!” And with that, she hung up.
When Zeke finally took a good look at the photos he’d sent, he froze in shock.
Still, there was no denying it—Mirabelle at seventeen was gorgeous.
Nothing like those awkward, unflattering shots Joanna had tried to use to clear her own name.
Meanwhile, Joanna was so furious she hurled her phone across the room.
She never imagined Celestine would forward her a video from her high school days—her cosmetic surgery diary.
That spiteful witch had to have done it on purpose.
Joanna’s cosmetic work had always been a sore spot, something she’d buried deep.
She called it “subtle adjustments,” restoring her beauty—not at all like the internet rumors made it out to be.
Her face twisted with rage.
“Call Chester. Now!”
Chester had already seen the trending news about Joanna’s cosmetic surgery before her call came in.
At that moment, he was in the middle of a major overseas deal—landing it would mean huge profits for Oceanview City’s five-year plan.
He was barely into the meeting’s first section when his secretary rushed in with an urgent update about Joanna’s scandal.
These kinds of crises had been a regular occurrence ever since Joanna’s rise to fame.
Chester hardly blinked. “Handle it the same as always. Get PR on it.”
But he’d vastly underestimated the damage this video would do. By the time his meeting wrapped, Joanna’s unflattering images were everywhere.
And then the call came—Joanna, sobbing so hard she could barely breathe.
“Chester, everyone wants me gone. If that’s what they want, maybe I should just give them what they want!”
“Joanna, don’t say that—don’t do anything stupid!”
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