Chapter 2

Noticing I still hadn't spoken, Amelia pouted in annoyance.

"Vivian, you used to hate me being in the control center," she said. "Every time I came in, you'd scream like a banshee. I'm actually kind of surprised you're so quiet today. No more screaming banshee?"

She propped her chin up with both hands, completely oblivious to the fact that her elbow was leaning right on the "all-channel" broadcast button.

On the monitors, I could see the influencers on camera desperately biting their lips to keep from losing it.

But Amelia, still oblivious, grinned at me. "I heard you made your first million as some bottom-tier influencer. Mr. Anderson told me all about those days.

"He said you were so desperate for clout that you'd do those disgusting viral challenges, eating literal trash and washing it down with fermented fish juice.

"I mean, can you imagine the breath? You must have smelled like a literal open sewer. No wonder Mr. Anderson probably slept on the other side of the mansion just to get away from you. Seriously, I'm dead!"

"I guess that explains why everyone says CEOs need massive beds. It was probably just to escape a wife who smells like a dumpster.

"But hey, you don't even have to worry about that anymore, right? I mean, Ethan hasn't even stepped foot in your house for what, over six months now?"

Amelia pretended to be innocent, laughing sweetly. Some of the rookie anchors even burst out laughing right in front of the camera.

Ethan hadn't been home in over half a year, which was exactly when Amelia had started at the company.

I had spent months watching them trade thirsty looks and play footsie in the office, but I had chosen to swallow my pride and stay quiet, all for the sake of the company's reputation.

But what shocked me was that everything I had done to help Ethan establish himself online—playing the fool for attention—had now become a joke to him, something he laughed about with Amelia.

The laughter in my earpiece grew louder until Amelia finally realized what had happened and pulled her arm off the button.

"Oh, Vivian, sorry. I didn't realize it was an all-channel call!" Amelia gasped, feigning innocence. "This is my first time handling such a big Black Friday event."

I just ignored her with a stony expression, refusing to say a word.

The countdown clock for the stream started ticking, and Amelia didn't even bother to greet the anchors before she hit the live button.

The veteran anchors scrambled to get into position while the rookies continued chatting and joking in front of the screen. When they realized the broadcast had started, they exaggeratedly made silly faces for the camera.

I pulled out my phone and, seeing Ethan's work notification, quickly marked all the veteran anchors and myself as on vacation.

Ethan didn't hesitate for a second, approving all the requests, and then, as if out of revenge, changed my status to "absent" and screenshot it, sending it to the group chat while tearing into me.

"Vivian is a moody, irresponsible supervisor who suppresses new talent and must be dealt with. From now on, all Black Friday control center activities will be handled by Amelia," Ethan declared.

Amelia, now given the responsibility, replied in the group chat with her high-pitched voice.

"Thank you, Mr. Anderson, for the trust. I won't let you down. I'll do whatever it takes to make sure you make tons of money," she squealed.

Her words sent a chill down my spine. Looking at my phone with the "absent" status, I quietly sat in the corner of the control center, a smug smile curling on my lips.

The veteran anchors who had been marked on vacation wasted no time and immediately pulled out of the live stream.

"Vivian, thank God you saved us. We might not get the performance, but if anything goes wrong on air, I can't even imagine how much we'd have to pay," one of them said.

Looking at the room full of rookies, I couldn't help but smirk.

In my old life, if I hadn't stopped her, Amelia's broadcast disaster would've cost over three billion in losses.

Now, I was dying to see if Ethan's affection for Amelia could really help her carry that kind of debt.

As the minutes ticked away, the five-minute product introduction that was supposed to be quick turned into a rambling, awkward mess that dragged on for over ten minutes.

Meanwhile, the high-ticket items the brand had specifically requested to be featured were rushed through in a matter of five or six minutes because the rookie host hadn't bothered to memorize the script.

What had started as a live stream with over 100,000 viewers plummeted to under 10,000 as the host fumbled her way through the show.

The comment section was ruthless. [LMAO, talking about napkins being eco-friendly and sanitary, then rambling on about how paper is made from fishing nets? Is the host even educated? Does she even think before she speaks?]

[She recommends soda and makes a joke about "fat people shouldn't drink it". We, the "fat people", paid for this, and she thinks she can tell us how to live?]

I watched Amelia panic as she scrambled to adjust the data on the control panel. Her phone kept ringing nonstop—all from the brand reps demanding answers.

To stabilize the traffic, I watched her throw all the marketing funds into a live stream that had the lowest engagement.

Ethan tried calling her, but she wasn't answering, so he called me instead. After considering what he had said earlier, I decided to turn my phone off, giving her space to handle the mess herself.

Once things settled down, Amelia finally picked up her phone.

But instead of offering an apology or trying to make things right, she burst into tears on the phone with the brand rep. "I didn't want this to happen! I'm just a newbie! Can't you cut me some slack?"

The brand rep snapped back. "We spent millions on Black Friday promotions! Cut you some slack? Who's cutting us any slack? You going to pay for this loss?"

Barely holding it together, Amelia hung up the phone in frustration.

She tried calling Ethan again, but his phone was still unreachable. With no other option, she collapsed at the desk and started crying.

A colleague gasped, "They've pulled the products! A bunch of brands just pulled out. Vivian, all the low-margin products have been taken off the shelves!"