TWO

A few months after Doris arrived in Paris, striving to sort out her life as she settled into the new environment, she'd received an anonymous email filled with malicious affronts and abuses.

She waved it off and took it less seriously. Those kinds of messages didn't look weird to her. As a celebrity, she was used to getting anonymous messages daily.

Most times, some of her enthusiastic fans would create edits of her pictures or videos with themselves in them and send them to her email, declaring how much they loved her. Same way her anti-fans send her all sorts of hateful messages and grotesque edits.

But that particular email was extreme and one she shouldn't have taken lightly but Doris, in her carefree manner, brushed it aside as a bitter hater doing what they did best—spread hate.

She was unaffected by the situation until she started receiving death threats and photos of herself in various locations, which indicated that whoever was sending her the emails was stalking her.

Suddenly, the mysterious situation turned from a mild inconvenience into a terrifying, life-threatening situation. She became concerned for her safety and immediately got the authorities involved. However, they proved to be of no help to her situation and the threats and photographs continued to arrive.

When she asked the anonymous user once what they wanted from her, they responded with one word: LEAVE!

She was confused with what that meant or what she should do about it so she ignored it yet again and continued living her life.

But that was a bad idea!

One rainy night, she was riding home when she received that last dreadful message that stated, "You've ignored my warnings so today shall be your last."

She felt the coldness of terror clawing at her guts as she accelerated to get to the safety of her apartment as quickly as possible but she did not make it there.

She awoke in a hospital a week later, where the doctors explained to her what had happened. Apparently, she had been in a car accident, caused by a truck colliding with her vehicle, but she was most certain that wasn't the case.

Someone was after her life! She knew it but couldn't do anything about it because she didn't even know who it was.

With the help of the police, she tried to find the perpetrator, but they'd always gotten to dead ends. Whoever was behind this must be really good at covering his tracks.

Scared for her life and that of her loved ones, she'd decided to lay low until she discovered who was threatening her life and why.

Especially now she had something very precious to protect. Something that meant so dearly to her that she couldn't afford to put in harm's way.

~ ~

Geneviève hurried towards her instantly, her ruby red lips stretching in a smile. "Ma'am! You didn't have to come all the way here from Nigeria," she said in her thick French accent. "I and the rest of the team are getting the situation under control."

Doris had found this stunning young lady on I*, a couple of weeks ago and had decided her agency needed a fresh face like hers. Her beauty was striking, but it was her raw talent that truly captivated Doris. Hence, she'd flown all the way to West Africa herself determined to get her girl. Although it would have been more convenient to let the casting team handle it, Doris knew that when it came to scouting underaged potential models, she preferred to do it in person.

And there had she heard all the buzz revolving around her agency.

Doris raised a well-carved eyebrow. "Oh? Then why is the dougebag still not behind bars."

"Well. . ."

"Tell me! What. Exactly. Happened?" Doris cut in, drumming her pointy, manicured fingernails on the table with each word she spoke. She was losing her forbearance.

One of the staff members spoke up, recounting the disturbing incident that had occurred a few days prior.

Apparently, a few of the models from the agency had been chosen to model the apparel for a brand's upcoming showcase. But after the showcase, one of the models, Elena, had been cornered by a VIP attendee who had subjected her to unwanted, inappropriate advances even when she protested continuously.

The staff member's voice shook as she explained the incident, and Doris could feel her anger rising.

"Fortunately," Geneviève said after the staff was done speaking. "There was not much harm done. Though she'd sustained a few bruises from struggling to get away from him."

Another of the staff members continued, revealing that after the incident, Elena had run into Julianne, another model from the agency, and told her what had happened.

Julianne, on the other hand, had immediately taken action.

She went to the dress changing room, where Elena had been cornered, and recorded a video of the man leaving the room, calling him names while he tried to avoid the situation.

She uploaded the video on social media, along with pictures of the bruises on Elena's arm. With these damning pieces of evidence, she publicly vilified him for misconduct, calling for consequences.

Atta Girl! Doris thought with satisfaction.

Julianne was like a sleeping volcano, always simmering with fiery passion just below the surface. Her anger burned hot, and she was quick to act when she felt that someone had been wronged. She would not stand for injustice, and she was not afraid to voice her opinions loudly and publicly.

But. . .

"How did something like this happen, anyway?" Doris seethed. "Where was the security team?"

Geneviève, her voice unsteady, interjected. "Our top models were at a bigger showcase in New York. Most of the securities were assigned to them. We were stretched thin, and we didn't have enough security at the local showcase."

Geneviève's explanation made sense, but Doris was still not satisfied.

She'd been in this industry for long and had experienced the good and bad side of it. She knew with the slightest negligence a model could get molested at any time.

"That is no justification," Doris said firmly, her voice low and steady. "If we are running short on security, then we need to hire more. I have made it clear that the protection of our models is our top priority. This should never happen again."

Doris' words were unequivocal. She would never tolerate any excuses or negligence when it came to the safety of the models. She expected nothing less than the highest level of care and security.

"Yes, Ma'am," Geneviève uttered in a low mumble.

Doris took in a deep breath, retrieving her lost composure. She smiled at the other woman. "I'm sorry. . ."

"It's okay," Geneviève nodded, returning her smile.

Then just as immediately, Doris' brows creased up in fury. "Who's the scumbag, anyway?"

"Antoine Baudelaire," Geneviève replied, handing Doris a file with his profile. "He's the youngest child and only son of Laurent Baudelaire, the Chairman of Baudelaire Hotels. He's known for his wild parties and reckless behavior, but no one expected this."

Her voice was full of anger and disgust. It was clear that she, just as Doris, was not going to let this matter drop.

"Initially, we received threats from Laurent Baudelaire's lawyers, who claimed we're defaming his son," Geneviève said, her voice quivering with emotion. "However, when they realized that our legal team was not to be trifled with, they retreated." She scoffed. "We are not going to let this slide. We're suing him for sexual harassment, even though, we may not have concrete evidence, considering they'd beaten us to getting our hands on that CCTV footage."

Doris frowned. "What do you mean by they beat us to it?"

"When we went to the hotel to get the footage from the day of the incident, we found out it was erased," the PR team leader asserted a note of frustration in his voice. "They must have known that we would come for it. I think The Baudelaires had made prior contact with them. They are trying to cover their tracks."

Doris released a scoffing laugh laced with thick resentment. "Oh? That's how they wanna play?!" After a moment's pause, she spoke up, her voice strong and resolute. "PR team, draft a statement to release to the press. It should clearly outline the allegations against Antoine Baudelaire, and it will state our intention to seek justice for our model. We will not let this incident go unchallenged. We need to tell the world that we will not tolerate this kind of behavior from anyone, no matter who they are. We would show them we're serious about protecting our models and would not stand for any kind of abuse or harassment. Get it done right now."

The team leader grinned, nodding enthusiastically. "Yes, Ma'am."

"Oh, and one more thing, make sure that video never leaves the internet."

"Ah. . . how they've tried to take it down," he said cheekily. "But no matter how many times they try, we keep making it go viral."

"Good!" The sides of Doris' lips lifted in a wicked smile. "Make sure Antonie Baudelaire never stops topping the trending keyword chart. We're not going to let him get away with this. Let the public know what a disgusting person he is. Oh, while you're at it, dig up as much dirt as possible you can find on Baudelaire Hotels."

"Already on it, Ma'am!"

Doris scoffed. "They think they can cripple us by erasing the CCTV footage, they have no idea how petty I can get," she muttered under her breath. Then she turned to Geneviève. "It's time we played dirty too, and gave them a taste of their own medicine. We are going to keep using the power of the internet to our advantage. Let's see how they'll deal with the public backlash to their corporation."