Page 2 of Ace of Spades

It turned out to be a raging dumpster fire.

After only a week since my company’s official launch, everything blew up like a fucking supernova for the entire world to see.

I didn’t think it was possible for one man to fuck me in so many ways—and Ilovedfucking, so this genuinely caught me off guard—but Remy made it look easy.

I woke up that morning to a text from Bianca.

How are you doing?

Just woke up.

Have you checked your socials yet?

No. Why? Are people excited for the launch? I hope we have enough inventory. Although if we sell out of the ‘Daddy’s Girl’ heel I think it would increase demand/visibility. OMG—what if the website crashes???

...

Just check your IG

FUCK

WTF??? THAT FUCKING SHITHEAD ASS FUCKER POS DOUCHE CANOE!!!!!

FML

I’m so sorry, Alice. I’m still in Milan but LMK if you wanna talk.

K

Apparently, when my boyfriend said he’d take care of the details, what he really meant was that he was too busy fucking his side chick to bother doing any actual research onhowthe shoes were made,wherethey were made, orwhowas making them.

No, Remy thought his time and my money were better spent by flying to Ibiza with his mistress and making sex videos, which got leaked onto a handful of porn sites. He’d spent so much ofmymoney trying to get the videos taken down that he could only hire the cheapest suppliers to make my shoes—the shittiest sweatshops in the world.

You know, the kind that made complete garbage and paid underage kids pennies a day to mangle their little hands.

And all of this was blowing up during the week of my big launch.

I did my best to do damage control, but the news about Remy...well that was the shit cherry on top of the shitty icing of this whole shitty cake.

My personal assistant Dinah had come to my rescue with one of her magic smoothies.

“Give me your phone and I’ll take care of it,” she said, trading me for a big neon blue glass of delicious oblivion. Dinah always denied it, but I swear she put Xanax in her smoothies because they made me forget all about my troubles for hours and hours at a time.

The feeling started to wear off while I was in the limo on the way to my family’s annual charity gala.

“Can you hand me my phone?” I asked Dinah. “I need to look over the notes for my speech.”

“Sure,” she said, handing it over.

I didn’t look at my notes. I went straight to all my social media pages and read the endless streams of nasty comments.

People online were either tagging me in video clips of my boyfriend’s side chick getting plastered in the face with cum, or sharing videos about the shitty quality of my shoes. Buckles were breaking, soles were flapping around as they came unglued, and rhinestones were popping off right out of the box.

I know I said this was happening during the week of my brand’s official launch...

But did I mention this was happening while I was hosting my family’s annual charity gala...forexploited children?

You know, the same kind of kids like the ones who were making my shoes?

---