THE EMPTY THRONE: How Forrester’s Arrogance Built Katie’s Empire

I. The Gathering of the “Brains”

The sunlight filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Forrester Creations executive suite, casting long, sharp shadows across the mahogany conference table. Around it sat the supposed “brains” of the industry: Ridge, looking impatient; Steffy, clutching a lukewarm espresso; Thomas, staring at a blank tablet; and Eric, whose face was etched with a growing sense of dread.

The room was silent, the air heavy with the scent of expensive cologne and looming failure.

“Let’s look at the facts,” Ridge said, his voice grating against the quiet. “We’ve got the manufacturing. We’ve got the distribution. We’ve got the legacy.”

“But what do we actually have for the fall show, Dad?” Steffy interrupted, her voice tight. “Because I just walked through the workroom. The mannequins are naked. The seamstresses are playing cards. We have plenty of fabric, but we have zero vision.”

She leaned forward, her eyes scanning the room. “The truth is, we have no design team.”

The statement hung in the air like a death sentence. For decades, Forrester Creations had been the sun around which the fashion world revolved. But today, the sun was flickering.

“We had a design team,” Thomas muttered, not looking up. “We had the most promising talent to come through those doors in a decade. And we walked him to the elevator and pressed ‘G’.”

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II. The Deke Mistake

The name Deke was a bruise on all their egos. He was raw, he was difficult, and he didn’t follow the Forrester “way.” But he was a genius. His sketches weren’t just clothes; they were architecture made of silk.

But three weeks ago, in a fit of corporate “purity,” the board—the “brains” currently sitting at the table—had voted to fire him. It was a move led by Ridge, who found Deke’s ego to be a mirror he didn’t want to look into.

“He was a liability,” Ridge snapped. “He was erratic. He didn’t respect the brand.”

“And now he doesn’t respect our non-compete clause because we didn’t write it properly,” Eric said softly, finally speaking up. “Nobody thought twice. Nobody said, ‘Hey, maybe Deke shouldn’t have got fired.’ We just wanted him out of our sight.”

“We should have held onto him,” Steffy admitted, the regret finally showing on her face. “Not because we liked him, but as a strategic asset. We should have kept him in a gilded cage just to keep him away from Katie.”

III. Katie’s Cold Calculation

While the Forresters were busy patting themselves on the back for their “moral” decision, Katie Logan had been watching. Katie didn’t care about Deke’s ego. She cared about his output.

The moment Deke’s keycard was deactivated at Forrester, Katie was waiting in the lobby. She didn’t offer him a job; she offered him a kingdom. She gave him his own label under the Logan umbrella, total creative control, and something the Forresters never could: a grudge to fuel his creativity.

Back in the boardroom, Thomas threw a magazine onto the table. On the cover was one of Deke’s new designs for Katie’s startup. It was bold, it was revolutionary, and it made everything Forrester had in the archives look like a museum exhibit.

“Katie isn’t just competing with us,” Thomas said. “She’s erasing us. She knew we were vulnerable. She knew we were top-heavy with executives and bottom-light on actual designers. She saw the hole in our hull, and she hired the man who could make it a canyon.”

IV. The Arrogance of Legacy

“We can hire someone else,” Ridge said, though the conviction was gone from his voice. “We can get a top-tier designer from Paris by Monday.”

“With what time, Ridge?” Eric asked, standing up. “The buyers are coming in ten days. You can’t buy a soul in ten days. Deke was our future, and we threw him away because he made you uncomfortable.”

The “brains” looked at each other. For the first time, the Forrester name felt less like armor and more like a target. They had become so obsessed with “protecting the brand” that they forgot the brand was built on the very thing they now lacked: art.

“Katie has the talent,” Steffy whispered, staring at the magazine cover. “She has the hunger. And she has the man we fired. What do we got? We got a big table and a lot of empty chairs.”

V. The Fallout Begins

The meeting adjourned not with a plan, but with a heavy, suffocating silence. As Ridge walked out, he saw the empty design desk where Deke used to sit. A single, forgotten sketch was taped to the side—a rough outline of a gown that looked like it was made of moonlight.

Ridge reached out to crumble it, then stopped. He realized that Katie hadn’t just stolen a designer; she had stolen their relevance.

The “brains” at Forrester had made the oldest mistake in business: they thought they were the stars, when they were actually just the stage. And now, Katie Logan was about to put on a show that would leave the Forrester stage permanently dark.