The night before the grand finale of Starlight Girls, the air was heavy, charged with the static of a brewing storm.
The top-floor conference room glowed like a beacon against the skyline. Leo's core team lined both sides of the long table, their eyes fixed on the man in the head seat.
"I want Crossbridge Capital dismantled. Ten minutes. Go." Leo's voice cut through the room like a shard of ice.
Ignoring the stunned silence of the room, Leo tilted his head slightly toward Charlotte, who was seated beside him.
Dressed in a simple black hoodie, Charlotte clicked her laser pointer. A complex web of capital flow diagrams instantly illuminated the massive projector screen.
"Crossbridge Capital is your textbook high-leverage, high-risk shell company. It's currently carrying two billion in bad debt for the Harrington family. Their only weakness is time."
Her expression was cool, her voice level as she began delegating tasks with surgical precision.
"Legal team: Turn the IP tracking and defamation evidence over to the regulators immediately. This is our leverage to trigger an emergency asset freeze. We need to cut off Marianne's ability to move funds before daybreak."
"PR Director: the moment that freeze hits, leak the news anonymously that the Harrington family is facing bankruptcy liquidation. Forget the facts; I want a bloodbath in the market."
The room fell into a dead silence. Everyone looked to Leo, waiting for the boss to confirm such a scorched-earth plan.
Leo sat in the shadows, idly twirling a pen. He hadn't looked at the data on the screen once; instead, his dark, deep-set eyes were locked onto Charlotte with a burning intensity.
He didn't offer his team a second glance. He simply gave a sharp hand gesture. "Get on it. Now."
The silence was instantly shattered by the frantic clatter of keyboards and the overlapping voices of people on phones.
Twenty-four hours later, the Starlight Girls finale was live, with hundreds of millions watching.
The stadium was packed to the rafters, a sea of glowing light sticks. The most conspicuous sight wasn't even a contestant's name, but a massive, coordinated banner from Jax's fan club: "CHARLOTTE! CENTER OR ROIT!!"
It was the most aggressive, hardcore show of support in the house.
Backstage in the dressing room.
Emily was draped in a pristine, high-fashion white silk gown, looking every bit the "Saint" about to be crowned. She intentionally stepped up behind Charlotte, who was applying eyeliner, and flashed a venomous smile in the mirror—a look meant only for the two of them.
"So, what's it gonna be?" Emily lowered her voice. "I've already scheduled the upload. Do you want to walk away now, or...do you want the 'highlight reel' of you and Leo broadcast to a few hundred million people?"
Charlotte's hand remained steady. Her eyeliner pen glided across her lid, forming a sharp, lethal wing.
She caught Emily's eyes in the reflection, her gaze frigid.
"Emily," she said flatly. "That dress looks cheap on you."
"You—!" Emily choked on her rage.
"Enjoy your last few minutes on stage." Charlotte set her brush down and turned around, her gaze was lethal. "After all, make those your last words."
Emily took the stage.
Her song was a sentimental ballad, her performance as mediocre and predictable as ever. But her true "killing blow" wasn't her talent.
As the critiques ended, Emily didn't ask for votes. Standing under the spotlight, her shoulders suddenly began to tremble. She covered her face and broke down in a dramatic sob.
The crowd went wild with confusion.
"I'm sorry... everyone," Emily wailed, tears streaming down her face. "This might be the last time I ever stand here."
"I thought... I thought hard work actually mattered here. But I was a fool. " She looked up, her eyes filled with a manufactured mix of grief and fury. "In this industry, if you don't have a checkbook, you're invisible!"
"I've been threatened! Warned! People want to silence me!"
Emily suddenly lunged toward the camera, screaming, "But even if I have to destroy myself today, I'm exposing it all! No more lies!"
The live comments section exploded:
#Holy shit! Is Emily going out in a blaze of glory?# #It has to be Charlotte and Leo! Those two are literally bullying her to death!# #Protect Emily! Get the corruption out of the industry!#
Emily's kamikaze-style "whistleblowing" successfully sent the crowd into a frenzy.
The host, breaking into a cold sweat, struggled to maintain control. "Th... thank you, Emily. And now, for our final contestant—Charlotte!"
Amidst a chorus of boos and skeptical jeers, the lights cut to black.
Whirrr—
A low-frequency infrasonic hum vibrated through the stadium.
Beams of light sliced through the darkness like broadswords. Charlotte stood on the rising platform, ut she wasn't wearing some bubblegum pop getup. She was clad in a dark, liquid-metal suit of armor.
Her makeup was cold and ethereal; the silver shadow around her eyes made her look less like a human and more like a high-end android from the future.
The music started. It wasn't a dance track, but a collision of Gothic divine chanting and heavy industrial electronic noise.
She moved.
Every joint snap, every muscle tremor was timed perfectly to the digital pulse. She looked like an AI awakening, tearing through the shackles of its code—a fallen deity forging a new body from the ruins.
Jax's raw power, Caleb's sense of beautiful ruin, and Evan's cinematic precision all merged into one perfect moment.
During the bridge, Charlotte performed a mechanical backbend that defied human physiology, then snapped back up instantly. She stared into the camera with a hollow, haunting gaze, her fingers flickering in the air as if she were rewriting the world's source code.
The stadium went dead silent.
No boos. No screams. Everyone was too breathless, paralyzed by a beauty that felt alien.
She wasn't competing. This was a complete takeover.
When the music finally stopped, Charlotte stood in the center of the stage, looking down on the world like a queen.
The applause didn't start—it erupted. A thunderous roar that nearly brought the house down.
At the judges' table.
Jax was literally standing on top of the desk, shouting into his mic. "You see that?! That's my student! Anyone who calls her just another pretty face has to deal with me!"
Caleb took off his glasses. His eyes, usually masked by a gentle warmth, were now filled with a manic obsession. "The moment you stepped onto that stage, I knew... you were born to be my leading lady."
Leo, sitting in the center, didn't lose his composure, but his possessive gaze had her pinned. His voice was a husky rasp: "I knew a cage wouldn't be enough to contain you. You're the storm that's going to level this place."
The three men at the top of the food chain watched her like prey that outshone the spotlights.
Charlotte bowed deeply. The cheers and applause showed no sign of stopping. She picked up her microphone, her breath still heavy, ready to deliver her carefully make her move.
"Stop! Just stop!"
A piercing shriek tore through the applause.