Chapter 3 - The Eviction
The next three days were a masterclass in absolute destruction.
Without her phone, which my security team had held until they dropped her at the port authority, Cassandra had been unable to spin the narrative. By the time she bought a burner phone and logged onto her accounts, she was radioactive. Aura Cosmetics released their statement, terminating her ambassadorship. Within hours, a domino effect occurred. Every major fashion label, every jewelry rental service, and every PR agency dropped her. Nobody wanted to be associated with a bully who had publicly assaulted a billionaire heiress.
On Thursday afternoon, I decided to take a stroll through the sun-drenched streets of Monte Carlo. Adrien, the captain, had insisted on accompanying me, dressed in sharp civilian clothes. There was a quiet, unspoken tension between us—a mutual respect that had deepened after he knelt on that deck.
“You’ve been busy, Elena,” Adrien noted, walking beside me as we approached a high-end café. “The port master told me Miss Vale was barred from entering the marina.”
“Actions have consequences, Adrien,” I replied mildly. “She threw away her career the moment she threw that champagne.”
Suddenly, a hysterical voice echoed from across the street.
“You!”
I turned. Cassandra was marching toward us. She looked entirely unhinged. Gone were the designer gowns and the flawless makeup. She was wearing oversized sunglasses, a wrinkled trench coat, and carrying two massive, overstuffed suitcases. She looked like a woman who was actively on the run.
“You did this!” she shrieked, ignoring the stares of the wealthy tourists around us. She stopped a few feet away, her chest heaving. “You took my brand deals! You got me blacklisted! The rental agency just kicked me out of the villa because my credit card declined! I have nowhere to go!”
Adrien stepped smoothly in front of me, his broad shoulders shielding me from her erratic movements. “Step back, Miss Vale,” he warned, his voice low and dangerous.
I gently placed a hand on Adrien’s arm, signaling him to let me handle it. I stepped forward, looking down at Cassandra's cheap, scuffed luggage.
“I didn't take your brand deals, Cassandra. Your own behavior took them,” I said, my voice carrying the icy authority of a CEO. “You built a career on pretending to be elite, and you maintained it by stepping on people you thought were beneath you. You ripped my dress because you thought I couldn't fight back. Well, you picked the wrong woman.”
“I’ll sue you!” she screamed, tears of pure desperation spilling over her sunglasses. “I’ll tell everyone you used your billions to ruin a poor girl’s life!”
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I smiled, a cold, terrifying smile. “Sue me with what money? Your accounts are overdrawn. And if you attempt to defame me, my legal team will bury you in litigation until you are fifty. Take your suitcases, Cassandra. Get on an economy flight back to wherever you actually came from. Monaco is done with you.”
She opened her mouth to scream again, but Adrien signaled two nearby local police officers, who had recognized the commotion. They began walking toward us, and Cassandra’s remaining bravado completely shattered. She grabbed the handles of her heavy suitcases and practically ran down the street, crying hysterically as her fake empire collapsed into dust.
