Chapter 3

It hit me instantly—Yasmin was doing this on purpose.

She knew exactly what had happened. She'd been scammed, but she wasn't about to take the loss herself. No, she was hellbent on making me foot the bill.

What puzzled me was why. Yasmin knew me better than anyone. She knew I'd never ask someone for money—not even a close friend. It just wasn't who I was.

Besides, when the scam went down, I'd been in the storage room sorting PR packages. I didn't even have my phone on me. Her room faced that storage area directly. She had to have seen me in there.

So why would she transfer fifty grand without asking any questions?

Something wasn't adding up.

As I mulled over the details, Yasmin started sobbing again.

Zack returned with a glass of water, all soft concern. "Here, Yasmin." He handed her a tissue. "Don't worry. Since Bella's involved, I'll make sure she takes responsibility. You won't lose that fifty grand for nothing."

Yasmin latched onto his arm, eyes wide and hopeful. "Really? I know you two run a million-follower account together. You're not hurting for money. You're so kind, Zack... but Bella—" She hesitated, shooting me a sideways glance. "Can you guarantee she'll pay me back?"

My voice cut through her little performance. "Zack."

Zack stiffened, pulling his arm free from her grip. He wouldn't even meet my eyes. "Just... stop crying, Yasmin. There's always a solution."

But Yasmin's face hardened when he didn't give her the answer she wanted.

I pretended not to notice their silent exchange, keeping my expression neutral.

Inside, I was already strategizing.

This mess? It might be exactly what I needed to push through my brand's transition—and, more importantly, to cut Zack out of my business for good.

As we were leaving the station, a familiar voice called out behind me.

"Bella."

I turned to see Jenny Wayne, a police officer I'd worked with on several anti-fraud campaigns. She offered a tight smile, her expression apologetic.

"You've always been a great partner in helping us promote online safety," she said. "I've seen how much effort you've put into those campaigns."

Then she hesitated. "But with the scene your friend caused... your image took a hit. The Cybersecurity Ambassador title? It might need to be put on hold."

I froze.

As one of the top beauty influencers, I'd watched countless peers crash and burn from scandals they never saw coming. One wrong move, and their followers vanished overnight, leaving them scrambling to stay relevant.

I wasn't about to let that happen to me.

I'd been prepping for this kind of fallout for years — building backup plans, diversifying my brand. Holding the title of Cybersecurity Ambassador had been one of those strategic moves.

So yeah, it was impossible not to feel disappointed.

I didn't bother hiding my emotions. "Yasmin's too emotional. There's no reasoning with her right now."

I paused, choosing my words carefully. "I get that losing that money hurts, but if I pay her back, it sets a bad precedent. It'll look like victims can always demand compensation from someone else—and that's the opposite of what we've been preaching with anti-fraud."

The last thing I wanted was for every scam victim to think they could pin their losses on someone with a bigger bank account.

Jenny nodded. "You're right. Legally, no one can force you to pay her back."

"Thanks." I managed a small smile. "Actually, I've been thinking... if someone starts a fundraiser for her, I wouldn't mind throwing in some extra money to help."

People kept trying to guilt-trip me into covering that $50K.

Fine. Let's see how generous they are when it's their turn to pitch in.

Jenny blinked, surprised. "Bella, that's... really kind of you."

I accepted the compliment with a polite smile.

It wasn't kindness—it was strategy. My entire rise from small-town nobody to million-follower influencer was built on playing the long game.

Back at my apartment, I dropped onto the couch and opened my phone, bracing for the storm.

The video of Yasmin kneeling? Viral. Like, mega viral. And because I was an influencer, it only made things worse.

My latest post? Completely overrun. Thousands of people flooding the comments with hate.

[Why won't you pay her back?]

[How can you watch your best friend kneel like that? Heartless.]

I scrolled through beauty forums, social platforms—everywhere, people were calling for my cancellation.

[We should all unfollow her. If you agree, hit like!]

The bandwagon was picking up speed, fast.

A few voices of reason poked through the noise:

[Guys, it was an AI scam. Bella didn't take her money. Why is everyone ignoring that?]

Didn't matter. Most people weren't interested in facts. They wanted blood.

Then, the police issued a statement.

It spread like wildfire across influencer groups and forums:

[Beauty influencer B's friend Y was scammed out of $50K through an "AI face-swapping impersonation." At the time of the incident, both were in their shared apartment. Y failed to verify the identity of the scammer and willingly transferred the money. Police urge caution with online interactions.]

Both the police and platforms shared it.

You'd think that would settle things down, right? Nope. Yasmin went off the rails.

She stormed to the rooftop of our building, screaming that I'd driven her to the edge, threatening to jump.

Firefighters had to pull her down. Drama maxed out.

She caused the mess.

And yet, somehow, I was still the villain.