I stared at the invitation to Julian Vance’s IPO celebration party, almost laughing out loud. Ms. Dawson, our project director, stood beside me, her voice dripping with sycophancy, like she was trying too hard. “Sarah Hayes, you truly are our company’s most outstanding employee! The Vance & Miller Group is such a massive project, about to ring the Nasdaq bell. Mr. Vance personally requested us to handle all pre-IPO public relations risks. Land this project, and the partner position at year-end is yours, no question.” I ran my fingers over the cardstock. Its edge was sharp, like a blade. Three years ago, I was Evelyn Reed, the golden girl from one of the city’s most prominent families. And Julian Vance was my fiancé. He’d whispered sweet nothings, swearing he loved me. Then, behind my back, he’d teamed up with outsiders, using meticulously planned financial leverage to bleed my father’s life’s work dry, leaving nothing but dust. My father suffered a sudden heart attack and died in his office the day after signing the equity transfer agreement. I plunged from the clouds straight into hell. Meanwhile, Julian, stepping over the ashes of my family’s legacy, flew off into the sunset with my supposed best friend, Celeste Miller. They founded the “Vance & Miller Group.” Vance for Julian. Miller for Celeste. How ironic. Now, he was about to take this blood-soaked “love child” public. And he needed a top-tier PR consultant to whitewash his past, erase every inconvenient trace. He found me. Or rather, he found “Sarah Hayes.” A rising star in the industry, a gold-standard crisis management consultant with a spotless record, ruthless methods, and a mysterious background.
Ms. Dawson noticed my prolonged silence and grew a little anxious. “Sarah? This is a huge deal, and Mr. Vance is incredibly generous.” I looked up and smiled. “Don’t worry, Ms. Dawson. I’m taking this case.” I wouldn’t just take it; I’d make it the most perfect masterpiece of my life. I would personally help him build the highest tower, then, the moment he reached the top, I’d yank out every foundation stone and watch him crash into a pathetic puddle.
The project kick-off meeting was scheduled in the penthouse conference room of the Vance & Miller Group. Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the city’s financial district stretched out, traffic flowing like silent, iron-colored blood. Julian Vance sat at the head of the table, impeccably dressed in a bespoke suit, his eyes behind designer glasses still holding that same gentle, yet completely controlled, expression. Celeste Miller sat beside him, a slight baby bump visible beneath her hand as she tenderly caressed it, her face glowing with the soft radiance of a happily married woman. She saw me, a flicker of surprise in her eyes, quickly replaced by the scrutinizing gaze of someone in power. Of course, she didn’t recognize me. After three years off the grid, I’d lost twenty pounds, cut my long hair, put on black-rimmed glasses, and even changed my speaking cadence. Now, I was just “Sarah Hayes,” an overly calm, almost sharp professional woman. Julian glanced at me, his tone strictly business. “Ms. Hayes, my requirements are simple. The Vance & Miller Group’s past must be a blank slate. Any old news, any rumors that could cause controversy, I need them completely gone before the IPO.” I pushed up my glasses and opened my laptop. “Mr. Vance, PR isn’t magic. It’s science. To make the public forget, the best method isn’t deletion, it’s saturation. We need to craft a new, unbreakable ‘persona’ and ‘story’ for you and the Vance & Miller Group. A rags-to-riches tale of a genius financier and his devoted wife, weathering all storms together to build a business empire. The more perfect this story, the better it will conceal those ‘imperfections’ of the past.” My voice was perfectly even, devoid of any emotion. Julian’s lips curved into a subtle, approving smile. “Ms. Hayes, you’re certainly a professional. We’ll do as you suggest.” He paused, as if remembering something, then added in a condescending tone: “Especially regarding… my former fiancée. I don’t want her resurfacing, rehashing old issues, and damaging the company’s reputation.” Celeste immediately hooked her arm through his, softly saying, “Julian, it’s all in the past. Evelyn was just confused back then, let’s not blame her.” I lowered my eyes, staring at the blinking cursor on my screen. My stomach twisted into knots. Ha. Not blame me? She didn’t deserve to utter those words. I wanted nothing more than to smash my laptop into her sanctimonious face. But I held back. My fingers typed a line on the keyboard: [Phase one objective: Gain absolute trust. Become the blade that will slay the dragon.] The meeting ended, and as I was about to leave, a voice called out to me. “Ms. Hayes.” It was Julian Vance. He walked over and handed me a business card. “This is my private number. If you have any issues during the project, you can contact me directly.” I took the card. The moment my fingertips brushed his, he paused slightly. I sneered inwardly, my face maintaining its professional detachment. “Understood, Mr. Vance.” As I turned, I heard Celeste ask in a sweet, cooing voice: “Julian, why are you being so polite to her? She’s just a PR consultant, right?” Julian’s voice was low, but I still caught it. “This woman isn’t simple. Keep her close. She’s useful.” Oh, useful. Julian Vance, you’ll soon find out just how “not simple” I truly am.
The first step of my plan was to make him dependent on me. I pulled every string, leveraging every resource to brand him as the city’s newest “business prodigy.” I arranged interviews for him with top financial magazines, portraying him as a visionary investment genius. Anonymously, I planted meticulously crafted stories on various forums and social media platforms: a deeply devoted man who, after his fiancée’s ruthless betrayal, endured hardship and, with his current wife, built a commercial empire from the ground up, creating a miracle. In no time, the love story of Julian Vance and Celeste Miller became a celebrated tale in the city’s elite circles. The Vance & Miller Group’s reputation soared to unprecedented heights. Julian grew increasingly satisfied, increasingly reliant on me. He’d call me in the middle of the night because a headline wasn’t “impactful” enough, or immediately seek my advice over a competitor’s minor negative news. He started inviting me to dinner, and the conversations weren’t always strictly business. He’d talk about his future plans, his market insights, even his ridiculous “philosophical musings.” The look in his eyes, which had initially been one of scrutiny, gradually became tinged with curiosity and… interest. Once, in a private room at a club, he’d had too much to drink and suddenly grabbed my hand. “Sarah, you remind me a lot of someone I used to know.” My heart lurched, but I calmly pulled my hand away, my expression unchanged. “Really? The world is full of similar people.” “No.” He shook his head, his eyes slightly unfocused. “It’s a feeling… an unyielding fire. Too bad she wasn’t as smart as you.” I picked up my glass and took a sip of the icy liquid. “You flatter me, Mr. Vance. I’m just an employee.” Damn him. I truly wanted to splash that drink in his conceited face. Evelyn Reed wasn’t smart? If I hadn’t been smart, I would’ve jumped from a tall building three years ago, instead of standing here now, listening to his garbage. The web of evidence I was secretly collecting was tightening around him. I needed an accomplice, someone who could transform this evidence into a bullet aimed straight at Julian’s heart at the most crucial moment. I found Marcus Thorne. The Editor-in-Chief of ‘Market Watch’. A man known for his uncompromising integrity in the industry, from humble beginnings, unafraid of power or influence. Julian Vance had once used his capital to suppress Marcus after he investigated a financial fraud case. I arranged to meet him at an unassuming cafe. I pushed an anonymous tip-off package across the table to him. Inside were preliminary leads on Julian Vance’s early insider trading activities. Marcus read it, then looked up, his gaze sharp as an eagle’s. “Who are you? What do you want?” “Someone who wants to see justice served.” I met his eyes. “These are just appetizers. I have the real evidence, enough to put him behind bars. But I need the right timing, and a platform that can make this explode across the entire internet instantly.” He was silent for a long time, his fingers tapping lightly on the table. “Why should I trust you?” “Because we share a common enemy.” I stared directly into his eyes. “And because of ‘Market Watch’s’ reputation, Mr. Thorne. You wouldn’t want to miss the biggest financial scandal of the century, would you?” His eyes lit up. “Tell me your plan.” Our alliance was forged.
As the IPO date approached, Julian Vance’s ambitions grew exponentially. I used my position to access the Vance & Miller Group’s core financial data. And what I found… it was worse than I ever imagined. The company’s financial reports were crafted to perfection, like a beautifully wrapped gift. But as I peeled back layer after layer of disguise, what I saw was a horrifying black hole. Massive amounts of funds had been transferred to offshore shell corporations through complex cross-border transactions. The so-called “high-tech projects” were nothing more than fronts to scam government subsidies and investor funds. Julian Vance wasn’t interested in building a commercial empire. He was setting up a scheme. A colossal financial scam. He planned to dump his shares at the peak of the company’s IPO, cash out, steal all the investors’ money, then run off with Celeste and disappear without a trace. If this scam succeeded, tens of thousands of families would lose everything. They would be bled dry, just like my father three years ago. I shared my investigation results with Marcus Thorne. On the phone, his voice was grave. “This isn’t just commercial fraud anymore, it’s draining the lifeblood from the entire market. Ms. Reed, are you… sure you want to do this alone? It’s incredibly dangerous.” Ms. Reed. He knew my identity. I wasn’t surprised. With his capabilities, uncovering “Sarah Hayes’s” past was only a matter of time. “Mr. Thorne.” I stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, looking at the city lights below. “Three years ago, I lost everything. Now, I can’t stand by and watch him destroy thousands of other families.” “This isn’t just my revenge.” “It’s my responsibility.” I hung up and turned back to the mountains of documents piled in my office. These were Julian Vance’s death warrant. And I was going to be the one to ring his death knell. The day before the celebration party, Julian Vance called me to his office. He handed me a velvet box. “Sarah, you’ve worked incredibly hard these past few months. This is your reward.” I opened it. Inside was an expensive diamond necklace. “After tomorrow, we’ll usher in a new era.” He was beaming with triumph as he walked closer to me, his voice dropping, tinged with a suggestive暧昧 tone. “Interested in joining me to pioneer this new era?” He thought I could be bought with money and status. He thought all women were like Celeste, easily manipulated by him. I closed the box and pushed it back to him. “Mr. Vance, I’m just a consultant. My work will be complete after tomorrow’s celebration.” The smile on his face froze. “You’re rejecting me?” “No.” I looked at him, enunciating each word. “I’m telling you that tomorrow, you absolutely must give me an opportunity to give my final work report on stage. I’ll present you and all the guests with a real ‘surprise’.” His eyes became complex, filled with confusion, curiosity, but mostly, offended arrogance. He hadn’t understood my hint. But it didn’t matter. The game was almost over. He would understand soon enough.
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