“If you want to destroy her, do it cleanly — don’t leave any trace that points back to us.”

Leviana fixed her stare on the man across from her with an intensity that made the small office feel even smaller. On the coffee table lay several printed photos; the laptop screen showed fake gossip accounts. The neon light hummed overhead, but the whispered plotting that had just begun felt far louder.

“I understand, Miss Lev,” the man replied curtly. “We’ve prepared the fake accounts, some influencers, and one insider at Deviana’s fashion office.”

Leviana nodded, the corners of her mouth curling faintly. “Good. Start small — drop hints in private...