The Vickers legacy
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The video was the beginning of the end for Gia—or so it felt. As the grainy footage of her and Ace making out in a dimly lit room went viral, the world she had worked tirelessly to build came crashing down. V Modelling Company, which had been her first step toward carving her name into the industry, wasted no time in severing ties. Their statement was curt and unforgiving: "Effective immediately, Gia V is no longer represented by our agency due to a breach of professional standards."
The backlash wasn't limited to her career. Ace, who had basked in his rising fame, received a harsh blow as well. The producers of his upcoming film dropped him from the cast, citing concerns over his reputation. Social media turned against them both, with comments ranging from mockery to outright condemnation. The consequences were swift, and for Gia, there was only one place to go—to the family she had so desperately wanted to prove herself worthy of.
The Vickers estate was a sprawling, opulent mansion situated in the exclusive outskirts of the city. The driveway alone was lined with manicured hedges and sculptures, a testament to their unshakable wealth and power. Gia walked through the grand doors, her suitcase in hand, dread pooling in her stomach. The weight of her failure pressed down on her as she stepped into the marble-floored living room, where her mother, Helen Vicker, waited like a judge ready to deliver her verdict.
Helen was the epitome of sophistication, her tailored white pantsuit impeccable, her silver hair pinned into an elegant chignon. Her sharp green eyes, famous in the fashion world for their discerning taste, bore into Gia with unfiltered rage. She stood in the center of the room, her hands clasped tightly, her demeanor colder than the marble beneath their feet.
Across the room, Sara, Gia's eldest sister, lounged on a velvet armchair, a glass of wine in her hand and a smirk playing on her lips. Amira, the middle sister, stood near the window, her face pale with concern, her fingers fiddling nervously with the hem of her blouse.
As Gia set her suitcase down, Helen broke the silence, her voice sharp and cutting.
"How dare you?" she hissed, her words echoing in the vast room. "Do you have any idea what you've done? That video—that disgraceful video—is everywhere. You've dragged our name through the mud!"
Gia flinched, her knuckles tightening around the handle of her suitcase. "I'm sorry," she murmured, her voice small, but Helen wasn't finished.
"Sorry?" Helen's voice rose. "Do you think sorry fixes this? You were supposed to make a name for yourself—your own name! Instead, you've thrown everything away over a B-class actor with no future! What were you thinking?"
Sara snorted from her seat, swirling her wine. "Honestly, Gia, I didn't think you could stoop this low. But here we are." She raised her glass mockingly. "To your public humiliation."
"Stop it, Sara," Amira interjected, her tone soft but firm as she glanced at their mother. "This isn't helping."
Helen turned her sharp gaze on Amira. "She needs to hear this. The industry doesn't even know she's my daughter. Do you understand how much easier it would have been if I'd given her the Vickers name from the start? But no. I made her earn it—like I did with you and Sara. And this is how she repays me?" She gestured dramatically toward Gia. "By embarrassing herself—and us—with a man who's a nobody?"
Gia's lips trembled, but she forced herself to speak. "It wasn't about him. I had my reasons—"
"Oh, I'm dying to hear them," Helen snapped, crossing her arms. "Explain yourself. Right now."
Gia hesitated, her heart pounding. She glanced at Sara, whose smirk had grown wider, and at Amira, who looked away, unable to meet her gaze. Finally, she took a deep breath. "It was about the money," she admitted.
Helen's face twisted in disbelief. "Money?" she spat. "You ruined everything over money? Explain yourself!"
Gia clenched her fists. "I met Ace at a party. He was drunk and rambling about his uncle becoming the CEO of Allian Corporation. He said if he helped his uncle with some family issues, he'd get a billion dollars as a thank-you."
The room fell into stunned silence. Sara's smirk faltered, her brows knitting in confusion. Amira's mouth fell open, her eyes wide.
"A billion dollars?" Sara repeated, her tone incredulous. "And you believed him?"
Amira, however, was less skeptical. "A billion dollars," she murmured, her voice tinged with awe. "That's… unbelievable."
Helen pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling sharply. "So, your master plan was to attach yourself to a man with no credibility and hope he'd magically land this money? You're even more foolish than I thought."
Gia's frustration boiled over. "I didn't know it would end like this, okay? I thought—"
"You thought wrong," Helen snapped, cutting her off. She stepped forward, her heels clicking against the marble. "Enough of this nonsense. I've made my decision. You're going to marry Zach Riggs."
Gia froze, her eyes widening. "What?"
"You heard me," Helen said, her tone final. "The Riggs family is the wealthiest in the country. Zach is a far better prospect than that disgrace you were parading around with."
Sara nodded approvingly. "Mom's right. Zach is your way out of this mess."
Amira's expression shifted to one of horror. "No," she said, her voice shaking. "No, Mom, you can't do this. I love Zach!"
Helen turned on Amira with a scoff. "You're married to Mason Asher. Your feelings for Zach are irrelevant. You're part of the Asher family now, and that's that."
Amira's voice broke as she shouted, "You forced me into that marriage! Mason doesn't even love me. We don't even share a bed. We're strangers!" Tears streamed down her face. "And now you're going to ruin Gia's life too?"
Gia's expression hardened, and she stepped closer to Amira, her voice cold. "Stay out of this. I love Zach more than you ever could. If Mom says I'm marrying him, then I will."
Amira shook her head, trembling. "You don't love him. You just want the money."
Helen raised a hand, silencing them both. "This discussion is over. Gia, you'll do as I say. Amira, go back to your husband and stop meddling."
Amira stormed out of the room, her sobs echoing down the hallway. Outside, a shadow moved—a spy capturing the entire exchange on video.
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