Ex Cried as I Wed a Tycoon novel Chapter 311

Isabel cut Effie off, her tone sharp. “Remind me, who’s the expert here—you or me? I’ve shot countless product campaigns, and this is the first time I’ve heard such nonsense.”

Effie’s voice was calm and steady as she replied, “Miss Isabel, I’m just pointing out that today’s jewelry collection is all about understated elegance. With your heavy makeup, it clashes with the pieces. The results won’t look right.”

“That’s not for you to decide. I think it looks fine as it is.” Isabel’s voice was icy.

Annabel had just stepped away to take a call. When she returned, she found Isabel and Effie locked in a standoff, tension crackling in the air.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

Before Effie could answer, Isabel jumped in, eager to get her side across first.

“Annabel, I’m the professional here, but Effie insists on bossing everyone around…” She quickly repeated what Effie had said just moments before.

She expected Annabel to back her up, but instead, Annabel fixed Isabel with a cold stare for a few seconds before snapping, “Change your makeup. Who told you to take matters into your own hands?”

The smile froze on Isabel’s face. She stared at Annabel in disbelief, as if she couldn’t trust her own ears.

“Annabel, you’re telling me to change my makeup?” Isabel looked at her, utterly speechless.

Annabel’s tone was unyielding. “Isabel, where’s your professionalism? Did you leave it at home today, or are you doing this on purpose? You know exactly what we’re shooting. Yet here you are, wearing makeup fit for a nightclub. Who are you trying to impress? If the campaign falls flat, are you going to take responsibility? We’ve already wasted enough time. Now you want to make things even harder?”

Her criticism was firm and clear. Isabel bit her lip, her eyes turning red as tears threatened to spill over, but she didn’t dare let them fall.

“Well? What are you waiting for? Get moving,” Annabel ordered.

Isabel ground her teeth in frustration, wishing she could march over and break them up.

Just then, the photographer finally lost his patience. “Miss Isabel, could you please take this seriously?” he snapped.

Snapped back to attention, Isabel scowled. “Your poses are so complicated. Is it a crime to practice a few times?”

“That’s not the problem. The problem is you’re not even listening to my instructions. How do you expect to get it right?”

The photographer had his own studio and had worked with some of the biggest names in the industry. Celebrities went out of their way to be polite to him, always calling him ‘sir’ or ‘maestro.’ No one ever dared to talk back to him—until Isabel.

And there was a reason for his reputation. He had a knack for capturing a model’s best angles, creating just the right mood and making every shot shine.