The scandal dropped at 9:17 a.m.
Lena knew the exact time because her phone nearly slipped out of her hands.
She was brushing her teeth when the first alert came in. Then another. Then so many that her screen froze, vibrating like it was trying to warn her of something alive.
She stared at her reflection—messy hair, bare face, toothpaste on her lip—and opened the link.
A video.
Her stomach sank before it even finished loading.
The clip was grainy. Cropped. Edited just enough to lie without technically lying. It showed Lena outside a bar, laughing, leaning close to someone whose face was conveniently blurred.
The headline screamed in all caps:
VIRAL STAR EXPOSED: SECRET AFFAIR, PUBLIC DECEPTION
Below it, the outrage was instant.
I knew she was fake.
Another influencer playing everyone.
Cancel her.
Lena felt the familiar tightening in her chest.
Behind her, Asher was already awake.
"They've started," he said calmly.
She turned. "This is fake."
"Yes."
"You're not even surprised."
"The Board prefers efficiency," Asher replied. "They needed a crack. This is the test."
Her follower count jumped. Then dipped. Then jumped again.
Chaos disguised as momentum.
"They want me to apologize," Lena said slowly.
Asher nodded. "Tears would help. A written statement. Time off."
She stared at the screen.
Then she laughed.
A sharp, incredulous sound.
"No."
Asher frowned. "No?"
"I'm not doing that," she said. "That's exactly what they want."
"They want you controlled," he corrected.
She wiped her mouth and straightened. "Then they picked the wrong girl."
Asher watched her, something unreadable flickering in his eyes.
"What are you going to do?" he asked.
Lena opened her app and hit Go Live.
The viewers flooded in instantly.
Hundreds of thousands. Then more.
She didn't change. Didn't filter. Didn't soften her voice.
"Hi," she said cheerfully. "So apparently I woke up in a scandal today."
The chat exploded.
Is it true?
Address it!
Say something!
She smiled wider.
"If you're here for an apology," she continued, "you're going to be disappointed."
The comments slowed.
"You really think," Lena went on, "that if I had something to hide, I'd be here like this?"
Silence rippled through the feed.
"Here's the thing," she said. "If you want to hate me, go ahead. But don't pretend it's about honesty."
Her gaze sharpened.
"You don't want truth," she said. "You want a show."
The viewer count spiked.
"And I won't cry on command."
She ended the live.
The internet detonated.
Memes. Think pieces. Defenses. Attacks.
Her engagement doubled.
Asher stared at the screen, then at her.
"That wasn't panic," he said slowly.
"No," Lena replied. "That was refusal."
For the first time since the contract was signed, Asher felt something unsettling settle in his chest.
This wasn't a crack in her rise.
This was reinforcement.
Hell had calculated a collapse.
Instead—
Lena Park was becoming uncontrollable.
And for the first time in centuries, Asher realized the truth:
Hell had miscalculated.