I was a conflict queen. Unphased by the chaos that bubbled up from passive-aggressive comments. Some people ran from it, eager to keep an illusion of peace in place at all costs. But I had never been good at hiding my thoughts... at least not the negative ones. Those came out swinging, like an out-of-control boxer. Like... well, me.
So cornering an attempted murderer in my fashion rival's office seemed like a lovely way to spend my Monday morning.
And now my time had come to lean into the chaos and drag the conflict to the surface, kicking and screaming, ripping it out by the roots to make sure it could never spread its weeds again. Like yanking out mandrake roots in Harry Potter, you just have to bear the screaming to get the job done.
Derik Lawson stared back at me, silent as he slowly ate another skittle, sharp eyes contemplating my accusation.
"Derik... what's she talking about?" Laurence asked.
Derik snorted, throwing his head back and catching another skittle in his mouth. "SUUUUUURE. You don't sound crazy at all."
He threw another skittle into the air, but I caught it above his head, leaving him staring up at me, mouth wide open, waiting for a skittle that would never come. "I should have put it together when you tried to stab me at the Masquerade." My voice had a sickly sweet tone, a stark contrast to my words. "Your breath smelled like..." I ground the skittle to dust in between my fingers, letting the flakes fall into his face. "...fruit. Like these STUPID. SKITTLES," I said into the dead silence.
Derik wiped angrily at the flakes, a flash of anger crossing his features, betraying his calm exterior. "You have—"
I cut him off, barreling on. "You were wearing a mask that night, but you still had that stupid man bun, which paired nicely with Susan's ridiculous hat."
I sighed, pinching my nose, attempting to push away the hurt at Susan's involvement. "I saw you both at the entrance of the maze. I should have known it was her, she kept trying to get hats made at Winters, but I am not much of a hat person."
Derik rolled his eyes, moving to get up. "You really are the Unhinged Fashionista. You've lost it."
I placed my hands on the arms of his chair, blocking him from moving as I leaned closer. Making it crystal clear that he wasn't going anywhere. "Call me what you want, but you were the one taking my designs and sending them to Royal Fashion. You are the reason my designs have kept getting stolen."
Laurence swore, hand covering his mouth as he stared at Derik, suddenly realizing that Royal Fashion had been plagiarizing Winters' designs for months.
"The question is," I continued, eyes narrowing as I stared at the stupid lump of a skittles-ridden man bun sitting before me. "Who got you your job here? Want to tell us yourself, or do you want me to take a wild guess?"
Derik said nothing, suddenly gaining enough common sense to stay silent. His eyes promised murder.
I crossed my arms. "Nothing to add?"
Laurence pulled me away from Derik, speaking to me in urgent whispered tones. "Allie... what if you are wrong?"
I shook my head, pulling my arm free from his grip. "I'm not."
Laurence ran his hand down his face. "Because if you are right... then..." He swallowed. "Then I'm ruined." He sat down on the edge of his desk, suddenly pale, eyes wide. "My company will be in shambles."
I turned back to Derik just as he angrily shoved his phone into his pocket. "Still have nothing to say?" I asked.
He glared at me, flipping me off from his chair like the dashing heap of garbage he was. "Classy," I replied dryly. "It's very noble of you to take the fall for breaking into my office, attacking me, and stealing my ideas." I waved my arm casually. "I suppose making you the scapegoat makes the most sense for the others involved."
"Are you thick!?! You have nothing on me!" Derik growled, standing to his feet so fast that the chair behind him fell back, hitting the floor with an angry clack.
"Don't I?" I asked with a dangerous smile, enjoying the way the veins in his neck began to bulge. People were so easy to read under pressure. He wasn't just angry, he was afraid. Good.
The elevator chimed, signifying that we were no longer alone.
Everyone turned towards the doors as Tate walked through them, sporting a well-cut midnight black suit and tie. An aura of darkness clung to him, making him look like a dangerous model. A rarity, yet beautiful sight. Apparently, every emotion looks good on him.
His eyes found mine, lightning cracking wildly in them. There was so much that needed to be said. And he was clearly unhappy.
I swallowed. "Hello Tate, glad you could join us." He offered a nod in return.
"Care to share what happened the night of the Masquerade?" I asked.
"Wait, he was in on it?" Laurence asked, confused. "What's going on?"
Derik laughed. "Like that bucket of clown paste could do anything malicious."
Tate blinked, torn between a snide comment and laughter. "I have to admit, you have very good burn game."
"Did she tell you?" I asked as the elevator closed behind Tate.
"Yep," he said leaning against the wall to the left, eyes dark. "Susan told me everything."
I laughed as Derik's hands rolled into fists, looking like a trapped animal. "And here you are Derik, letting her pin you with everything." I walked towards him, unable to keep a proud smirk from tugging at my lips. "Told you," I whispered in a taunt. "You are just a scapegoat."
Derik's face transformed, fury scrunched his features until he was an unrecognizable creature. He launched at me, but I was ready, stepping to the side as he swung, leaving him with nothing but air to stumble into.
As he awkwardly staggered forward, I yanked him back by his other arm and pinned him to the ground. "Now, now. Let's be civilized," I said in an irritatingly soothing voice.
"ONE OF YOU, CONTROL YOUR WOMAN!" Derik bellowed, struggling against me to no avail.
"She's not mine!" Laurence blurted.
"Nah. She seems to have a handle on things," Tate added at the same moment.
I could feel the anger radiating off of Derik in waves, threatening to push him into making a stupid decision. "If you had played your cards just a little differently, I really would have thought Laurence was behind it all," I said, glancing back at Royal. "No offense."
Laurence shrugged, unsure of how else to respond.
Tate offered a small wave to Laurence. "You must be Royal. Nice to finally meet you."
Laurence looked back at him, flustered. "Um. Hey. Sorry about kissing Allie."
I raised a brow at Laurence. "I thought you weren't sorry about that."
"To Tate's face, of course I'm sorry! Dang, why are you trying to get me killed?!?" Laurence blanched.
"GET OFF ME!" Derik growled, the side of his face still pressed into the ground.
As soon as I loosened my grip, he scrambled to his feet, face red, angry at being so quickly overtaken. "You are the worst interrogators I have ever seen! This is why working for both of you has sucked!" Derik snapped. "You!" he said pointing at Laurence. "Are an incompetent, undetailed moron who doesn't double-check designs. So of course I could pass off Allie's designs as mine. You don't even know how to appropriately wear a tie clip!"
Laurence looked at me, gesturing to the gold tie clip he wore, waiting for my opinion. It clashed with the silver buttons on his suit. I shook my head, trying not to scrunch up my nose in distaste. Nope. Just as bad as the socks.
He shrugged and dropped the tie clip on the table, relenting.
Derik turned to me. "And you!" he snarled. "You are a cold, psycho perfectionist she-devil who demands too much from everyone!"
Tate's eyes flashed, anger cutting through the green, burning it down to ash and replacing it with a look that threatened murder.
This time, Derik's words didn't sting. They didn't leave me wanting to hide in my office and cry. They didn't tattoo themselves onto my skin, becoming another part of me that I couldn't stand. Because even though I could be scary, or demand perfection, or be rough around the edges, I wasn't a monster. I wasn't cruel. I was a good person. And I had learned to weed out the truth from the lies that people flung at me.
"Are you done with your mean tweets?" I asked dryly. "If so, let's get back on topic." Mostly so Tate doesn't kill you... prematurely.
"You were promised a better position at Royal Fashion if you stole Winters' designs and passed them off as yours," I said before Derik could continue. "I assume that by ruining Laurence's credibility and reputation, it would make an easy case to have someone else come in and take over the company."
"How long has he been working for you?" I asked Laurence.
"Six months. Working remotely as a freelancer until a month ago," he said after a beat, face pale.
I sighed, looking back at Derik. "So you've been getting paid double for work that isn't even yours. Am I missing anything?" I asked, unphased by the daggers he was shooting at me from his ink-black eyes.
"Carter is the one that got you your job here... isn't he?" Tate said, still eyeing Derik dangerously, looking more like Aiden with his steely expression.
Derik narrowed his eyes but remained silent.
"Carter wanted more of his own people on the inside at Royal Fashion. He was building his own team and just had to knock his brother out of power. Then he could have all of this," I continued gesturing around the room. "You helped spark the rivalry between our two companies, knowing I would bring this place crashing down for stealing my designs."
Derik's eyes changed, sparking with unhinged glee as I motioned to the room around us. "It's truly amazing what a little blackmail can do. It makes it so much easier to control people," Derik said into the silence.
He narrowed his eyes at me. "Except you... you'd rather burn yourself to the ground than be controlled."
Laurence groaned, looking unraveled as he slunk down on the edge of his desk, hurt flashing across his face at his brother's betrayal. Just a few hours before, Laurence had believed his brother was redeemable, but I could see the change on his face. He's a lost cause.
Derik continued, enjoying Laurence's sudden heartbreak. "But I got fired a little too soon, making things... complicated. Susan wavered without me at Winters."
I rolled my hands into fists. He made it sound like she was a pet. Someone he could control. I didn't understand. Why would she listen to him? Why would she help hurt me?
"Derik and Susan were dating," Tate said into the silence, connecting the dots. "He was the one who ransacked her apartment and took the photos."
"Carter suggested we cripple your shoot. I didn't realize that your photographer had a backup of the raw files," Derik said as if admitting that he had eaten the last piece of pie and not that he was attempting to destroy lives.
Suddenly Susan's nervousness on the day I fired Derik made sense. Why there was no forced entry into her apartment. She had let him in because it was someone she knew. Someone she cared about. A plan she had agreed to. She had played her part to throw me off the trail.
I remembered the bruises across her face and barely managed to keep my voice even. "You hit her?" I growled at Derik, fists shaking. Ready to make good on my promise to beat down whoever had touched her.
"I had to make it look real," he said with a cold smile. "How else were we going to sell it to you?"
I moved before my brain registered that was what I wanted. My fist came up, ready to pound him into the ground. But my arm was yanked to a stop inches from Derik's face. Tate's hand holding me back.
Derik smirked. "Finally controlling your woman."
Tate let go, suddenly motivated to do the exact opposite. The sudden slack sent my fist forward and I hit Derik hard across the jaw, sending him stumbling backwards.
He howled a string of profanities that roughly translated to... "SON OF A BISCUIT! WHAT THE FRENCH? ARE YOU FRENCHING INSANE!?!"
"So you pinned the attack on Laurence," I said shaking out my hand, ignoring Derik's continued mutters, tempted to hit him harder, wanting to turn him into a worn-out punching bag. Wanting to make his face match Susan's when I had found her. Wanting to give him a matching scar on his torso to match Iz's. The lists of wants grew until I could barely breathe past my rage. "And when that didn't work, you tried again at the Masquerade."
"But you didn't expect Iz to be there, dressed just like Allie," a voice said to our left. We all turned in time to see Aiden shoving a disheveled person through the elevator door. It took me a second to recognize the person Aiden shoved inside. A rumpled Carter took us all in with his inquisitive emerald green eyes.
"Caught this one in the lobby. He tried to make a break from the building when Tweedle Dee over there sent him a warning text," Aiden said, eyes moving over to Derik. "So they're clearly working together, in case it wasn't obvious before."
Carter stumbled out of the elevator before righting himself and glaring back at Aiden. Laurence moved towards the elevator, wanting to approach his brother, but Tate held up a hand, keeping him back. "Carter... why?" Laurence asked, his voice cracking, pain filling his eyes.
Carter ignored him, shoving his hands into his pockets, staring at the ground. Several bruises hid below a deep layer of foundation. Bruises I had gifted him with the night before.
"So you are the one who stabbed her," Aiden said, taking in Derik with eyes so deadly it left me slightly terrified.
"Well look who could join us," I said to the silent Carter, forcing Aiden's focus back on his detainee. "The famous photographer who slinks around bars, drugging drinks."
Carter, remained silent, keeping his cards close. "Why didn't you leak the picture you took?" I asked. His eyes moved, snapping to mine, all flirtation gone.
"He never got a chance to," Tate said answering the question when it became clear that Carter wasn't going to talk. "They gave the memory card to Susan when they split up." Tate continued to eye Derik with unveiled hate. "She refused to give it back to them and sent it to me instead."
Derik laughed gesturing to Tate. "She wanted to protect you after she saw Allie kissing boy wonder over here."
Carter glared at Derik. "Stop monologuing, Derik," he warned.
Derik snorted. "Oh come on. They have nothing! It's all just a show. Allie has always had a flair for the dramatic. That's why she gets all those nicknames online. The world loves hating a villain. No one is ever going to take your word when you cause more problems than you fix." He looked over at Tate, placing his hand over his heart, slipping into a mocking tone. "Susan was in love with you. Something that should have insulted me, but our relationship was never important."
Tate tilted his head back and forth, weighing his words. "Susan wanted me to know about Laurence and Allie, so yes there was jealously involved, but I would hardly call that love."
Derik started laughing again. "It doesn't matter what we call it because you leaked the picture yourself! A far better heart to the knife than any of us could have ever done. Then you twisted the dagger by going out on a date with Susan!" He looked at me. "You must have loved that!"
Derik gave Tate a mock bow. "I have to admit, you are far crueler than I ever could have hoped for."
Tate shrugged. "I wouldn't call it a date. More a confession over a plate of spaghetti."
Derik and Carter tensed in unison.
"I mean it's hardly romantic when you spend the entire time consoling someone through their guilt while trying to decide if it's rude to ask if you can eat their garlic bread." Tate ran his hand through his dark hair. "She was afraid after what happened and didn't want Allie to die. So she sent me the picture from her own number. A number she gave me when we first met, hoping I'd come find her when I realized who the picture was from. She wanted out."
Derik and Carter glanced at each other, disbelief registering on their faces.
Tate looked over at me. "She had gotten it into her head that you were never going to let her move up at Winters, and by the time it happened, things had spun out of control."
I shoved my hands into my pockets, angry and hurt. A promotion? She did this over a promotion? If she had just been patient...
I looked at the other two "You idiots did all of this for power? To control a company? You are deranged."
"You don't have proof of any of this!" Carter roared.
"OH BUT WE DO..." I smiled. "Susan did more than tell Tate everything." I took several slow steps towards Carter in a taunting fashion. "While I was busy keeping you distracted last night, she turned everything in to the cops." I counted off on my fingers as I continued my approach. "All your messages... The knife... The designs that were stolen... And a whole lot more."
I stopped a foot away. "And she turned herself in. It's only a matter of time until..." My phone chimed, clearly wanting to encourage my dramatic nature. "Oh my! Would you look at that? Right on time. The cops are here."
Carter and Derik suddenly moved, a pair of rats scurrying away from an exterminator, both determined to get a head start towards the stairs at the far end of the room.
But I had a promise to keep. So I yanked Derik to a stop, blocking a wild, desperate punch before I brought up my leg and kicked him in the chest with my high heel, sending him falling backwards on his butt and sliding five feet across the floor.
He stared up at me stunned, rearing up the image from the last time I had kicked him in my office. His face scrunched up in pain as he gingerly touched his stomach.
"I told you..." I flashed him a dangerous smile. "...that if you tried that again, I'd kick you with a pair of heels on. Hurts a lot more doesn't it?"
Tate yanked Derik to his feet before he could respond, and shoved him against Laurence's desk, pinning his hands behind his back.
Carter was nearly at the door, fingers on the handle when he was suddenly yanked away as Aiden tackled him to the ground.
The room erupted into angry shouts and a moment later, a striking man with light red hair swept across his brow stuck his head through the stairwell door.
"Help me, Decklan!" Carter cried, desperate to be freed from the chokehold Aiden currently had him in. But Decklan, Carter's best friend, made no move to help as he was shoved the rest of the way through the door, his hands in cuffs, Delle right behind him, hand on his arm.
"Garbage Human here should be the last one. The employees are clean. This piece of crap is the only other one who was in on it. He took Susan's keys and vandalized your office, Allie."
Delle took in the scene around her as Tate continued to shove Derik against Laurence's desk, while Aiden continued to hold Carter in a tight vise. "Not bad Dalton boys. Looks like we got 'em all."
Stepping aside, Delle ushered in several police officers with a mischievous grin. "Book 'em boys!"
Delle had a bounce in her step as she walked over to me, eyes bright with glee. "I've always wanted to say that."
She pulled me into a fierce hug, speaking into my hair, face nuzzled up against my neck. "I have never been so thankful that I forced you to learn how to fight in my whole life." Her voice was gruff, my protective older sister pulling me in tighter for a moment, betraying her tough exterior.
Then she took a step back, looking me over. "You seem to be intact. You okay?"
Relief expanded in my chest as I watched the officers pull Carter, Derik, and Decklan from the room, Aiden and Tate following behind, keeping a close eye on them. I was safe. It was over.
But Laurence looked utterly lost, watched the room empty, eyes only for his brother, his body slumped in grief.
I pulled Delle into another hug, refusing to let go for a long moment. Thankful that I never had to wonder what side she was on. "I am now. Thanks for looking out for me."
"Of course. I saw your stunt at Snacks. Nice work."
I finally stepped back. "Was it too much?"
Delle shook her head, snorting with amusement as she expanded with pride. "No way. It was perfect. With the chaos you pulled, no one was paying attention to anything else. Decklan was easy to track down. No one paid attention to the fact that Susan and Tate walked right into the police station with a box full of evidence. Your plan was masterful."
She poked me in the ribs. "By the way, nice dance moves."
I groaned, face burning with embarrassment. "I knew you were going to say something about it!"
Delle laughed. "Relax! I'm just teasing. I just preferred the bar fight part. Punching gets far more answers than salsa moves."
She wrapped an arm around my shoulder, pulling me towards the stairs. "What are you going to do with all this newfound freedom? I mean now that your enemies list is sooo much shorter."
A slow smile tugged at my lips, spreading fast across my face, impossible to stop as one clear image came to mind. "The most terrifying thing I've ever done."
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Thank you for reading chapter fifty-one! I hope you are enjoying the story! Or are at least curious to see where it goes! Add this story to your reading list to know when the next chapter drops!
UPDATE DAYS - A NEW CHAPTER EVERY FRIDAY!
What is Allie planning on doing next?!?
What will happen to Laurence Royal?
Do you think Tate is still angry at Allie for what she did?
CHAPTER QUESTION - Allie has learned that although people's words can hurt, they don't get to determine who you are. How have you grown in a way that you are proud of?