I Slapped My Fiancé—Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis
Chapter 149 - 150 Staged Video

Chapter 149: Chapter 150 Staged Video

I thought the episode was over.

I was wrong.

‘Mirabelle, there’s... a big client down here!’ Priya called up to me from the first floor.

I made my way down quickly, but when I saw Harper, the smile I’d been trying to keep on my face disappeared in an instant.

I slowed my steps, forced myself to look at her without rolling my eyes. ‘What do you want?’

‘Mirabelle, listen...’ Harper gave me this ridiculously familiar smile and stood up, as though we were best friends. ‘There’s been a misunderstanding. I came to explain everything to you.’

‘Don’t try to be friendly with me. We’re not on first-name basis.’

Harper’s eyes welled up a little, and her voice softened. ‘I didn’t know Cassian had a girlfriend when we were together. If I had known...’

I wasn’t buying it for a second.

‘If you’d known, you still would have been with him. You’re not in love with him. You’re in love with the resources he gave you. You don’t care about his relationship status or whether you were the other woman.’

‘That’s not true!’ Her voice rose. ‘If I had known about Yvaine, I wouldn’t have agreed to date him. But... but now I’m in love with him. And he’s broken up with Yvaine. So... so it’s just bad timing.’

‘Save it for someone who cares. You know, Yvaine’s my friend. You should’ve stayed the hell away. Yet here you are, trying to act all innocent and play the “true love trumps all” card. You really think I don’t see through it?’

‘I...’ Harper bit her lip again. ‘I just wanted to make it clear that I’m not some homewrecker.’

‘Tell it to Yvaine. Actually, don’t. She doesn’t want to hear it, and neither do I. No one cares. So you can shove it.’

Harper’s face flushed as if I’d slapped her. ‘I’m not going to bother her,’ she sniffled. ‘I came here because Cassian asked me to, and also... I thought maybe we could talk about custom jewellery.’

‘You’ve got to be kidding. I already told you—no. Priya, show her out.’

I turned on my heel, walking up the stairs without sparing her another glance.

Behind me, I could hear Priya trying—half-heartedly—to get Harper to leave, but I didn’t care enough to listen.

Once I was in my studio, I pulled out my phone and fired off a message to Ashton.

[Tell your good mate to keep Harper the hell away from me!]

I tossed my phone onto the desk, but the silence was unbearable.

I picked it back up and started scrolling through videos to kill time.

Then I saw it.

‘Rising star Harper Foster’s custom jewellery request rejected!’

The post went on to talk about how the designer was apparently acting like a diva, claiming she wouldn’t work with anyone who wasn’t an A-list celebrity.

There was a video attached, clearly a paparazzi shot, of Harper leaving my studio.

She wore a mask, her eyes red as if she’d been crying, looking like the world was out to get her.

The video was getting more views by the second.

I’d barely finished watching it, and the likes were already up to a thousand.

I was still watching when Daniel came rushing over, his usual calm replaced by something more urgent.

‘Is this about us?’

He nodded towards my phone screen, where the video was on pause.

‘Apparently.’

‘That’s messed up,’ he muttered. ‘That woman came here looking for trouble. What’s the issue with us not working with her? It’s not like we must accept every client who walks through the door.’

Priya dashed up the stairs, winded from the run. ‘Harper left less than thirty minutes ago. How did the news spread this fast?’

‘She staged the whole thing,’ I muttered under my breath, my eyes scanning the comments, mostly negative. ‘She’s twisting everything. Even if the paparazzi filmed her, they couldn’t have known what we talked about. She must’ve talked to them. Now, she’s making it sound like I flat-out rejected her because she isn’t famous enough.’

I didn’t get why she’d be doing this.

Was it revenge for what happened yesterday at the club?

I frowned as I scrolled through the comments.

Most of the posts were from Harper’s fan base, ripping into me.

[HF’s at the peak of her career. What kind of designer refuses to work with her?]

[It’s that @MVanceJewels from before, right? I think her name’s M something Vance. Used to be with Nyx Collective. Guess she’s gone solo now.]

[Oh, so now she thinks she’s too good for a rising star? How cute.]

[I said it before, her designs aren’t that great. Turns out her personality isn’t either.]

[Harper’s on fire right now and some random designer is throwing shade? What a joke.]

[@MVanceJewels must think she’s the next big thing. Newsflash: nobody knows who she is.]

[Avoid this designer! Big red flag!]

I scrolled down, feeling the heat in my chest as they dug deeper into me—my real name, my background, even some old school comments I’d posted ages ago.

They were digging into everything.

The comments had turned from random insults to something personal.

The tone was getting nastier by the second.

Priya was shaking. ‘This is so wrong. I thought she was a nice woman. I even made her coffee!’

‘This is ridiculous,’ Daniel muttered, tapping away at his phone. ‘I’m reporting this. It’s completely fabricated. She’s barely even been famous for five minutes. How does she already have this many unhinged fans?’

They both kept furiously reporting the video, and within minutes, it was taken down.

Not just the video; whatever account posted it was deleted, too

‘We did it?’ Priya and Daniel looked at each other. ‘We did it!’

They high-fived each other.

My phone buzzed.