Chapter 5 Tracking Social Media
Veronica held Carry’s gaze for a moment longer—just long enough to make the words settle deeper than encouragement. Then she turned slightly, already shifting gears. “Cassie,” she said without looking back, “monitor response channels starting now.”
Cassie didn’t hesitate. “Already in motion.”
Wendy reached for her tablet, her fingers moving quickly across the screen. “Initial press release is live,” she added. “Local pickup within the hour. Nationals will follow once the wires distribute.”
Katie leaned in, glancing at the screen—and let out a low whistle. “You might want to see this,” she said, turning it slightly.
Cassie stepped closer, eyes scanning. A faint smile touched her lips—not surprised… confirmed. “It’s climbing fast,” she said.
Carry frowned slightly. “What is?”
Wendy turned the screen toward her. Notifications. Mentions. Headlines already beginning to populate. Her name – Carry Mitchelson; Attached to Veronique. Attached to something bigger. Carry stared at it for a second longer than she meant to. “…That’s already happening?” she asked quietly.
Veronica didn’t turn back. “Yes,” she said simply.
“It is.” A pause. Then—“And it’s only the beginning.
” Carry didn’t respond. She just looked at the screen again—and this time…
she didn’t pull back. Slowly, steadily, a smile began to form on her face as she watched the responses.
“You see, Carry. It’s just like I told you it would be.
They are ready for you to be the face of Veronique. ”
“If this is what it means to be the face of Veronique,” Carry said as desire crept into her voice, “then I am ready to be the face of Veronique. This is a much more wonderful opportunity than I could ever have dreamed to achieve.”
“Oh, Carry,” Veronica said sweetly. “This is truly just the beginning. You have such a bright future ahead of you that I can’t wait to watch you rise to all the new heights that you will achieve.
I’m not just going to make you into a Super Model, but into a mighty and powerful business woman that men everywhere will be panting for, dreaming about and chasing with everything they have.
You’ll have money, wealth, power, recognition, respect and fame.
” She paused to let it sink in. “You’ll be the object of their desire, able to choose any man. ”
Greg sat alone in the quiet of his house, the silence pressing in around him in a way that felt heavier than before.
The conversation with Tessa and Aunt Willamina still lingered—but it wasn’t what held him there now.
It was the phone in his hand. The screen lit up again with yet another notification.
He hadn’t even opened the last one. His thumb hovered for a second—then he tapped. And everything hit at once.
Veronique Official:“She never left the story… She just stepped into her next chapter. Welcome back, Carry.”
Greg’s jaw tightened. He scrolled. Another post. Another image.
Carry. Centered. Lit perfectly.
Not the girl from the office. Not the one who hesitated in the hallway. This was… different. Polished. Composed. Public.
His grip tightened slightly around the phone. “…That was fast,” he muttered under his breath. He kept scrolling.
“Hometown to Headline.”“Face of Veronique.”“A New Era Begins.”
Each line hit like a step further away from him. Further out of reach.
A video clip loaded—short, clean, intentional. Carry stepping into frame, turning just slightly, that same look in her eyes—but sharpened now, directed. Greg leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.
“…No,” he said quietly, almost to himself. This wasn’t just a job. This wasn’t just her leaving Pimico. This was something being built around her. Something deliberate. His thumb paused over another post – a video short:
Cassie:“Growth doesn’t happen by accident. It happens when someone decides to step into it.”
Greg tapped the screen to pause it then exhaled slowly. “Yeah,” he said under his breath. “Someone’s definitely deciding something.” He tapped again.
Veronica:“Some people wait to be discovered. Others choose to become undeniable.”
That one sat heavier. Greg leaned back slightly, staring at the screen. “…You planned this,” he said quietly. Not a question so much as a realization. His jaw flexed once as pieces started to line up—not emotionally this time… strategically.
The timing. The pressure on Carry. The offer. The immediate rollout. His mind shifted—just slightly—away from loss…dread entered his heart as it became clear…toward pattern.
A new notification popped up.
Kansas City Star – Breaking:Local Talent Carry Mitchelson Returns as Face of Veronique’s National Campaign
Greg stared at it for a long moment. Then finally—he set the phone down on the table in front of him.
But he didn’t look away. “…You stepped onto a stage,” he said quietly, echoing words he hadn’t even heard—but somehow understood.
A pause. Then his eyes hardened—just slightly.
“Alright,” he said under his breath. Not defeated. Not yet. “…Now I see it.”
The words didn’t sit the same way as everything else had.
They didn’t collapse. They didn’t linger.
They settled. Greg leaned back slowly, his eyes still fixed on the phone—but he wasn’t really looking at it anymore.
Not the images. Not the headlines. The pattern.
That’s what stayed. ‘Veronica didn’t react; she made her move.
Every step was timed, placed and intentional,’ Greg thought.
His jaw tightened slightly—but this time, it wasn’t frustration.
It was clarity. ‘…You didn’t just take her out of my life,” he said quietly.
“You redirected her.’ That thought landed deeper than anything else had.
Because it meant something he hadn’t fully accepted yet—This wasn’t over, but it had shifted.
Greg leaned forward again, slower this time, reaching for the phone—but not with hesitation now.
With purpose. He scrolled back up. Not looking at Carry.
Looking through it. The messaging. The sequencing.
The escalation. Cassie’s post. Veronica’s follow-up.
The press pickup. He nodded once, almost imperceptibly.
“Layered,” he muttered aloud to himself.
“You’re building perception before reality has time to catch up. ”
His grip steadied. That dread in his chest didn’t disappear—But it changed shape; from weight……
to warning. Aunt Willamina’s voice echoed in the back of his mind: ‘You stop reacting.’ Greg exhaled slowly.
“Alright,” he said again—quieter, but sharper now.
“No more reacting.” He set the phone down—but this time it wasn’t avoidance; It was control.
His eyes lifted—focused now, not lost. “First thing…” he muttered, thinking it through out loud.
“I need to know how deep this goes.” He started mulling it over in his mind.
‘This can’t have just been Veronica. No, not just Veronica.
Not just the campaign. Everything.’ Then he remembered the discussion in David’s office with Keith and Brick.
‘Lance and Millard.’ The timing didn’t make sense yet.
His gaze shifted slightly—toward the hallway, toward the world outside this room.
“…Because if this is all connected,” he said quietly, “then I’m not walking into this blind again.
” He pushed himself up from the couch, the movement steady—decided.
Not rushed. Not emotional. Measured. Different.
He grabbed his keys off the table without looking down.
“…And when I go to her,” he added under his breath, pausing just briefly—Carry’s face flashing through his mind, not the polished version…
the real one—“…it won’t be like last time.
” His heart pressed hard for a beat. Then—“But I’m not going to her yet.
” That decision locked in. Clear and intentional.
Greg headed for the door. “…First,” he said, reaching for the door handle—“I find out who’s actually pulling the strings.
” And this time—He didn’t hesitate. “Keith, you and Brick have been digging, but have you found what I need to know?”
Greg strode into the doors of Pimico, seeing Jeff sitting at the security station. He diverted from the elevator path to the security station. “Jeff, do you know where Keith is?”
“Yeah. Detective Stanton came in about fifteen minutes ago. They went to his office,” Jeff answered, thumbing over his shoulder. “Man, I knew that Miss Carry was a babe, but OMG she’s super-hot in that one-piece swimsuit! Aye Caramba!”
“She’s definitely a stunner, Jeff. Keep your eyes on the monitors though.
I don’t want Millard Calput anywhere near Pimico without our security reacting,” Greg directed as he started to move off, glancing over his shoulder at the image on his screen – Carry Mitchelson – Miss Vanilla Rose – The Face of Veronique.
Her body was positioned so perfectly to show off every curve in its radiant splendor.
‘Can’t blame him for reacting to that,’ he thought as he arrived outside Keith’s Office.
The door to the security office opened harder than Greg intended—but not enough to draw attention.
Keith looked up immediately from the monitors, Brick already leaning over his shoulder.
“Greg,” Keith said, reading the shift in him instantly. “You look like you just connected something.”
“I did,” Greg replied, stepping in fully and closing the door behind him. He didn’t waste time. “Tell me where you are with Lance and Millard.”
Brick straightened. “We were just about to call you—”
“Don’t,” Greg cut in—not harsh, but focused. “Just show me.” That was enough.
Keith turned the monitor halfway around, pulling up the latest feeds—data, timestamps, flagged routes—but before he could start walking through it— Another screen lit up. Not security. Media. Katie’s doing. “Hold on,” Keith muttered. “This just hit the public feeds.”