Chapter 14: The Battle of the Brands

Two days after the court ruling, the glass walls of Rivera Clothing & Co.'s executive suite glittered in the afternoon light. Ricci Rivera stood alone by the window, arms tightly folded across her chest, eyes locked on the skyline like it might offer an answer she hadn't already rehearsed.

The door clicked open behind her.

"You sent for me?" Liam's voice was low but firm.

She didn't turn.

"You humiliated this company in open court," she said coolly.

"No," Liam replied, stepping inside, "I told the truth."

At that, Ricci spun to face him, the faintest glint of fire flashing in her eyes. "You handed our competition the narrative on a silver platter."

He remained still, composed. "Wendy wasn't the competition. You made her one."

"She walked away with our DNA, Liam! You think the world cares about mood boards and sketches when the designs look the same?" Ricci's tone sharpened with each word.

"The court cared," he said simply. "And so did Dad, even if he couldn't say it outright."

Ricci's lips pressed into a thin line. Her voice dropped, icy.

"You always had a weakness for her."

"And you," Liam said, "always had a problem with people who didn't bow to your version of loyalty."

Ricci's jaw clenched. "This isn't about loyalty. It's about legacy. About protecting the Rivera name."

He tilted his head, his voice calm but pointed. "You care more about legacy than the people who build it. Remember, I am the presumptive CEO for the company."

She turned away again, back to the window, her silence heavier than any argument.

Later that day, the Rivera Clothing & Co. boardroom buzzed with tension. Executives, legal counsel, and key shareholders filled every seat. At the head of the table, Liam Rivera sat with both hands folded atop his file, the weight of the past week etched on his face.

"We lost," Liam said, his voice hoarse but steady. "Let's not pretend otherwise."

Soft murmurs filled the room.

Ricci sat beside him, lips sealed. Liam kept his file open, marked and highlighted.

"We need to protect the brand," the Chief Financial Officer chimed in. "Public sentiment is shifting. Investors are nervous."

"We double down," Ricci cut in. "Launch a legacy campaign. Discredit her work—subtly. We don't name her, but we remind the public who pioneered that look."

"And what if that backfires?" one board member asked. "What if we're seen as petty? She has public support now. Her story's out there."

"We adapt," another voice added. "Rivera has to evolve or risk fading out."

Ricci scoffed. "You want to hand her influence over us now?"

Liam stood slowly. "It's not about handing her anything. It's about relevance. We can't pretend we didn't mishandle this. She offered to mediate. We chose war."

"And you chose her," Ricci snapped.

"I chose what was right," he answered, his voice calm. "You talk about legacy—fine. Let's build one that doesn't depend on crushing anyone who leaves."

Liam raised a hand, signaling for quiet. The room obeyed.

"I've been silent too long," he began. "I let fear decide too many things for me—fear of being forgotten, of losing control. But I see now... legacy isn't about control."

He looked at Ricci, then turned to the members of the board.

"I propose we create the Rivera Design Council for "Hugs & Hers". Advisory. Independent. We'll bring in people who will work with us—and I guess Alexa can lead that. We acknowledge her vision, and we move forward."

Ricci's face drained of color. "You want to bring her into a company she knew nothing about?"

"Like my father's vision, I want this company to last another fifty years," Liam said. "Not just another season."

The vote was called. One by one, hands rose. Some hesitated. Ricci's hand stayed clenched on the table.

But the motion passed.

The door to the upscale café opened with a soft chime as Ricci entered, her heels clicking against the polished floor. She spotted Alexa sitting by the window, a bold presence in the otherwise quiet space. Alexa was dressed in a sharp, black blazer, her blonde hair styled perfectly, her eyes focused on the laptop in front of her. She looked up when Ricci approached, offering a cool, measured smile.

Ricci took the seat across from her, eyeing Alexa with a calculating gaze. "I didn't expect you to reach out so soon."

"I don't waste time," Alexa replied, her tone steady. She closed her laptop and leaned back in her chair. "I have an idea that could change everything for Rivera Clothing & Co."

Ricci raised an eyebrow. "Go on."

Alexa's lips curled into a knowing smile. "Asia Magazine Fashion Week. It's the platform we need—your brand needs. It's where the industry's elites gather, where trends are set. If we can secure a spot, we can not only reclaim our reputation but elevate it. We'll be the ones everyone talks about."

Ricci narrowed her eyes, considering the idea. The recent legal battle with Wendy had left a stain on Rivera's name, but this could be the solution she had been looking for. A successful run at Asia Magazine Fashion Week could erase the bad press and put them back in the spotlight.

"That sounds... tempting," Ricci said, her voice edged with intrigue. "But why come to me? You know how things are with Liam and me right now."

Alexa leaned forward, her expression unshaken. "Because you need to take control again. And I'm offering you the chance to do just that. Let's win the spotlight, and when we do, you'll be the one to climb to the top of Rivera Clothing & Co. You'll make all the decisions. All the moves you've been planning, you can finally execute. No more second-guessing."

Ricci's gaze hardened, a flicker of ambition lighting up in her eyes. She had always been good at playing the long game. This could be the opportunity she needed to cement her place at the top.

"You're right," Ricci said, her voice low and steady. "Let's make this happen. When we win, everything will be mine. Rivera Clothing & Co. will follow my lead."

Alexa gave a sharp nod, satisfied with Ricci's agreement. "Then it's settled. We'll begin preparations right away."

At the Makati Medical Center.

Liam stood beside the hospital bed, his eyes weary from the week's events, but his resolve unshaken. Arnulfo Rivera, his father, lay still in the bed, a faint pulse of life in his otherwise frail form. His face had lost some of its color, the marks of age and illness more visible than ever. Despite this, the sharpness in his eyes never dulled.

Ricci entered the room quietly, her heels muffled by the hospital carpet. She stood next to Liam, her expression tense as she met Arnulfo's gaze.

"Father," Liam said, his voice steady. "We're here to talk about the future of Rivera Clothing & Co."

Arnulfo's eyes shifted to him, then to Ricci. "I can't say I'm thrilled with the state of things," he rasped, his voice low. "But I trust you both to make the right decision."

Liam nodded. "We've agreed on something, and we wanted your input. A Rivera Advisory Council. An independent body. We'd bring in fresh voices, like Alexa, to help guide the company. They'd work alongside us, but we'd be the ones steering the ship."

Ricci's eyes were fixed on Arnulfo, her gaze intense. "The company needs to evolve, and we can't rely on old methods anymore. If we want Rivera to survive the next fifty years, we have to let go of control. A council will help us stay ahead of the curve."

Arnulfo's fingers twitched slightly, a gesture of thought. He was silent for a long moment, considering their words carefully. "I never wanted to see Rivera run like a democracy," he muttered.

"But I see where you're coming from. The world's changing... and maybe this company needs to change too."

Liam stepped forward, his voice firm but respectful. "We'll make sure that Rivera remains at the forefront of the fashion world. This isn't about replacing the vision I had for the company—it's about strengthening it for the future."

Ricci added, "And, with this council, we'll ensure that no one else can take what's ours. We'll evolve while staying true to what Rivera stands for."

The room fell into a heavy silence. Arnulfo's gaze shifted between his son and Ricci, the weight of the decision pressing down on him.

Finally, he spoke, his voice hoarse but resolute. "Do what you must. But remember… Rivera is more than just a brand. It's a legacy. Don't lose sight of that."

Liam's jaw tightened, but he nodded. "We won't. Thank you, Father."

Ricci's expression softened, just for a moment, as she acknowledged the passing of the torch. But in her eyes, there was something more—an ambition to see it through.

Then came the moment that changed everything.

The Philippine Arena in Bulacan. It's Asia Magazine's Fashion Week.

A massive digital banner flashed above the crowd: "THE BATTLE OF BRANDS: HUGS & HERS vs. WENDY'S FIT"

The anticipation was thick in the air, like a storm waiting to break. The entire country seemed to hold its breath. Wendy's Fit, once an underdog, had earned a spot on this legendary stage. The question everyone asked: could Wendy's raw authenticity outshine the commercial polish of Hugs & Hers?

Behind the scenes, chaos buzzed like a beehive.

Ricci strode across the backstage, her beaded gown trailing behind her, commanding the crew with ruthless precision. She had no time for hesitation. She had no time for failure.

"The lineup must end with the children. They're our ace," she ordered, her eyes sharp as she surveyed the final preparations.

Liam, standing off to the side, watched her with a mix of admiration and concern.

"Let's keep it clean, Ricci," he said, his voice low, a hint of a sigh escaping his lips.

Ricci's eyes flickered toward him. "We play to win, Liam. Not to please."

Liam clenched his jaw but said nothing. He had known this day was coming. He had hoped it would feel different—cleaner, more meaningful—but Ricci was always about victory at any cost. "Fine," he muttered, stepping back.

Across the fitting room, Wendy stood beside one of her models, adjusting the hem of a dress with delicate care. She looked up at Jace as he passed her a water bottle.

"Nervous?" Jace asked, his voice soft but carrying the weight of their shared journey.

Wendy forced a smile, wiping her brow. "Terrified," she confessed, her voice shaky. But then, she laughed—a brief sound that belied the storm inside her.

"But this isn't about me, Jace. This is for every woman who was told she wasn't enough. For every girl who didn't fit the mold."

Her gaze turned distant for a moment, filled with unspoken memories. "This is for them."

She let out a long breath, steeling herself. She wasn't just walking a runway today; she was making a statement. She was rewriting her story. And, hopefully, the story of many others.

The arena lights dimmed, and the crowd fell into a hushed silence.

The show began.

First, Wendy's Fit.

The models walked out, heads held high, wearing designs crafted from sustainable fabrics in earthy tones. They were strong, defiant, unapologetically themselves. Each curve, every line, was a celebration of diversity and strength. They moved down the runway like warriors—like they had something to prove, and they were proving it.

From the sidelines, Wendy watched as the models glided past, each one walking not just as a model, but as an ambassador for her brand, her message. The crowd responded—claps and cheers, but there was still a sense of expectation in the air.

And then, it was time for Hugs & Hers.

The spotlight shifted. The crowd stirred with curiosity.

As Alexa's rebranded vision unfolded before them, the atmosphere changed. The models walked out in rich, opulent colors, their movements graceful and fluid. There was a story in every step—a narrative woven through each piece.

A mother wrapping her daughter in a cozy embrace, a lola stitching a dream into existence. The fabric shimmered with history, tradition, and love. Every piece felt like a moment frozen in time.

The crowd was entranced. Every eye was on the runway, captivated by the beauty, the legacy. Ricci watched with satisfaction as the audience seemed to inhale the narrative. Her vision was winning. At least, that's what she told herself.

But then came the unexpected.

The music softened. A gentle, haunting lullaby played, and the screens above the runway flickered to life, showing fleeting images of children—tiny hands holding onto dreams, their faces painted with innocence.

And then, they appeared.

Dozens of them.

The children walked, twirling in mini couture, their faces lit with joy. The crowd gasped in unison, swept up in the magic of it all. The models were children—Hugs & Hers: Little Edition—and their every step was a declaration of innocence, freedom and hope.

Their laughter was infectious, their smiles radiant, filling the room with a warmth that no one had expected. Each child was an embodiment of love, of the future, of endless possibilities.

As the children paraded down the runway, the crowd erupted into applause, their cheers shaking the very foundation of the arena. Hugs & Hers had won the heart of the public.

Backstage, Ricci's face was as cold as ice, her arms crossed tightly as she watched the madness unfold.

"This wasn't part of the plan," she muttered under her breath, barely audible.

But even in her frustration, she couldn't deny the power of what was happening. Alexa had struck the heart of the audience, and it was undeniable.

Wendy stood at the side, watching the children twirl. Her throat tightened, but she fought to hold it together. This was her moment.

She turned to Jace, her voice a quiet whisper. "This… this is bigger than anything I imagined." She swallowed hard.

"They don't just see the clothes. They see the story. The heart behind it."

Jace nodded, his eyes scanning the runway. "You've made them feel something, Wendy. That's all that matters now."

On the side stage, the anchor stepped forward, speaking into the microphone with a voice full of awe.

"Ladies and gentlemen, what we've witnessed tonight is more than just a battle of brands. It is the birth of a new era in fashion—one where authenticity, heart, and the future of our world take center stage. Wendy's Fit showed us the power of raw truth. But Hugs & Hers, under the Rivera's brilliant vision, reminds us that fashion is not just about the clothes—it's about the story we tell."

As the audio-visual material faded out, a final message appeared on the screen:

"We are the future. We are Hugs & Hers."

Backstage, Ricci stood rigid, her eyes never leaving the children as they waved to the audience. Every inch of her wanted to turn and leave, but she stayed rooted to the spot. She refused to show weakness.

Alexa stood nearby, her expression radiant, her eyes glinting with victory. She turned toward Ricci, offering a sly smile.

"You played the game, Ricci. But it looks like I won this round."

Ricci clenched her fists, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, she simply nodded. "You won this round," she muttered. But in her heart, she swore it wasn't over. This battle was far from finished.

Liam, standing in front near the audiences' area, watched the final moments of the show unfold. His heart raced in his chest, torn between admiration for Wendy's vision and the reality of what he knew he had to do next.

When the show ended, he knew the decision had to be made. There was no going back. The boardroom awaits.

Later that same day, the awards came in.

Clothing Brand of the Year: Hugs & Hers (Rivera Clothing & Co.)

Good Corporate Service Seal: Hugs & Hers – Kids Empowerment Line

Liam and Ricci stood on stage, smiling at the cameras. But her eyes searched for one person: Alexa.

She nodded slightly from the crowd—approval without affection. It wasn't victory. It was business after all.

As the lights dimmed, Ricci whispered to herself, "We're not just back—we're reborn."

Meanwhile, at the exit area, Wendy took Jace's hand. "We lost the title," she said.

"But you won something bigger," he replied.

"What?"

"Your place. Your voice. And mine too."

She smiled softly. "You're right."

They walked into the quiet night, not as victims of defeat—but as warriors preparing for the next wave. Because in fashion, as in life, the runway never truly ends.