CRIMSON WEAVE

Azalea was in her office at Scarlet Vogue's Paris headquarters, meticulously reviewing fabric samples for an upcoming collection. The tranquil rhythm of her work was interrupted by a knock at the door. Without glancing up, she called, "Come in."

Lily entered, holding a tablet with a concerned expression. "You need to see this."

Azalea frowned. "What is it?"

Lily handed her the tablet. On the screen was an article from a prominent business website. The headline read: "Ambrose Levi's Textile Empire Under Fire: Allegations of Corruption and Unethical Practices."

Azalea's eyes narrowed as she scanned the article. It detailed vague accusations against Ambrose's company, claiming illegal dealings and labor violations.

"Where did this come from?" Azalea asked sharply.

"It's all over the business news," Lily replied. "And there's more. Several suppliers have already pulled out of deals with Levi Textiles."

Azalea set the tablet down with a measured breath. "This reeks of a smear campaign."

"And I think I know who's behind it," Lily said cautiously.

Azalea looked up, her gaze sharp. "Osvaldo."

Determined to confirm her suspicions, Azalea picked up her phone and called Osvaldo. The line rang twice before his voice, smooth and mocking, came through.

"Azalea," he said with feigned warmth. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Cut the act, Osvaldo," Azalea said coldly. "What are you playing at?"

He chuckled. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"The rumors about Ambrose's company. They have your fingerprints all over them," she snapped.

"Ah," Osvaldo said, his tone dripping with faux innocence. "I merely shared some concerns with a few people. If it's turned into a media frenzy, well, that's hardly my fault, is it?"

Azalea's grip tightened on the phone. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because, my dear," he said darkly, "you don't get to move on so easily. Not with him."

"Osvaldo, this is pathetic," Azalea said, her voice laced with disdain. "You're meddling in things that don't concern you."

"Everything about you concerns me," he retorted. "You might think you're done with me, but I'm not done with you."

Later that day, Azalea met Ambrose in a private conference room at his Paris office. He was pacing when she arrived, his usually composed demeanor replaced by frustration.

"This is deliberate," Ambrose said, gesturing to a folder on the table containing printouts of the accusations. "Someone is trying to sabotage me."

"I know who," Azalea said, closing the door behind her. "Osvaldo."

Ambrose stopped pacing and looked at her. "Your ex-husband?"

She nodded. "He's been fixated on ruining anything connected to me, and now you're in his sights."

Ambrose sat down, rubbing his temples. "This complicates things. If these rumors stick, it could take years to rebuild the trust I've worked so hard to establish."

Azalea moved closer, her voice steady. "We won't let that happen. Osvaldo's playing a game, and we'll beat him at it."

Ambrose's gaze softened as he looked at her. "Why are you doing this? You could walk away and let me deal with it."

She held his gaze. "Because this is bigger than just business. Osvaldo doesn't get to manipulate people and thinks there are no consequences."

That evening, Azalea returned home to find Osvaldo waiting outside her building, leaning casually against his car.

"Azalea," he called out as she approached.

She stopped a few feet away, arms crossed. "You've reached a new low, even for you."

He smirked. "I came to talk."

"I have nothing to say to you," she said sharply.

"Come now," Osvaldo said, his tone smooth. "We had something real once. Surely that counts for something."

Azalea's expression hardened. "What we had ended the moment you betrayed me."

Osvaldo stepped closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You were never the victim, Azalea. You've always been in control, always untouchable. It's infuriating."

"Is that what this is about? Your bruised ego?" she shot back.

"It's about reminding you that no one gets to walk away from me unscathed," he said darkly.

Azalea's jaw tightened. "You're pathetic, Osvaldo. And this little vendetta of yours will backfire."

"We'll see," he said with a smirk before walking away.

 Determined to protect Ambrose and herself, Azalea called Lily the next morning.

"I need every connection we have in the media," she said. "We're going to discredit those rumors."

Lily didn't hesitate. "Consider it done."

Azalea also reached out to an old contact in the intelligence world, a hacker known only as Cipher.

"I need dirt on Osvaldo," she told Cipher over an encrypted call.

Cipher chuckled. "You always did know how to keep things interesting. Give me 48 hours."

Two days later, Cipher delivered. Azalea sat in her office, scrolling through a dossier of Osvaldo's shady dealings. Fraud, embezzlement, and ties to criminal networks—all carefully documented.

She called Ambrose. "I have what we need to shut him down."

When they met later, Ambrose reviewed the dossier. "This is enough to ruin him," he said, a hint of admiration in his voice.

Azalea nodded. "We'll leak this strategically. Let the world see who he is."

Within days, the narrative shifted. Headlines exposing Osvaldo's corruption dominated the news cycle, overshadowing the rumors about Ambrose's company.

Azalea watched the coverage from her office, a sense of satisfaction washing over her.

Lily entered a broad grin on her face. "You did it."

"We did it," Azalea corrected.

As the dust settled, Azalea knew this was only the beginning. Osvaldo wouldn't give up easily, but neither would she. And with Ambrose by her side, she was ready for whatever came next.

In the world of fashion and espionage, survival meant staying two steps ahead—and Azalea was always prepared to do just that.