Chapter 8 - The Indestructible Fortress
We didn't just have evidence; we had a loaded digital weapon. But to maximize their destruction and ensure Julian’s permanent downfall, the execution had to be flawless. I needed a distraction, something to ground me while the trap was set.
The next afternoon, Gabriel drove me out to the construction site of our new private estate in the Hudson Valley. The sweeping Japanese-style mái nhật roof had just been completely framed, casting a beautiful, grounded silhouette against the autumn sky. But my absolute obsession was the heart of the home.
We walked into the framed-out space that would become our sanctuary. I had spent months agonizing over the kitchen design. It was exactly twelve square meters—precisely 4.3 meters long by 2.8 meters wide. It was designed to be intimate, highly functional, and built to outlast generations. I had evaluated dozens of materials, ultimately rejecting standard imported Thai MDF and Picomat plastic boards. They were too fragile, too susceptible to the elements.
Instead, I ran my hands over the newly delivered custom 304 stainless steel cabinets with sleek, tempered glass doors.
"It’s industrial, beautiful, and completely indestructible," I breathed, looking at the gleaming metal. "It will never warp, never rot, and never break under pressure."
"Just like you," Gabriel murmured, wrapping his strong arms around my waist from behind and kissing the side of my neck. "The foundation is secure, Vivienne. Now, how do we finish them?"
"We feed them a poisoned apple," I said, turning in his arms.
I knew Julian’s ego was his greatest weakness. He believed he was outsmarting me. I called my compliance team and had them draft a fabricated, highly confidential set of documents regarding the nội quy lao động—the workplace rules—for our Paris expansion. I embedded a fake memo stating that House of Laurent was on the verge of bankruptcy due to the Meta lock, and that our only hope was a massive emergency buyout happening on Friday night at the Global Fashion Innovators Gala.
I had Giang quietly drop the encrypted memo into a server pathway we knew Eleanor’s syndicate was still monitoring.
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Julian took the bait instantly. Within hours, Tới intercepted messages between Julian and Eleanor. They were planning to crash the gala, armed with their fake deepfake data, to publicly humiliate me in front of the world's most powerful fashion executives and kill my company forever.
They thought they were walking into my funeral. They didn't realize I had built their guillotine.
