Love Beyond the Mask by Adelaide Sinclair

Chapter 38

In the morning light, Whitney, Tiana, and their assistant, each toting a laptop, strode into the competition hall–a hive of creativity and cutthroat ambition.

As they entered, the sleek company vehicle of Skye Gem Ltd. slid to a halt at the entrance. Monica stepped out, her stilettos clicking a rhythmic challenge to the pavement, followed by the formidable procession of her design entourage. The contrast was stark; Whitney’s party felt distinctly out of place, almost shabby.

Their gazes met across the charged space, a silent battle in their standoff.

Monica sauntered past Whitney, her eyebrow arching in a slow, condescending smile. “Look who showed up. Best of luck, Sis. I’m sure you’ll need it to snag first place,” she teased with a voice dripping in lazy sarcasm.

Tiana bristled. “What’s with her snide remarks? And that smug smile–she knows full well your talent. She should be the one shaking in her boots, the fake.”

Whitney’s frown deepened. Tiana’s words echoed her thoughts. Monica’s confidence was unsettling. Even though Monica might have pilfered Whitney’s earlier designs, Whitney had brought her A–game with her latest collection, far surpassing her previous work. Yet Monica appeared utterly unfazed.

Something was amiss.

Tiana’s phone rang abruptly, and she exchanged a few terse words with the person on the other end.

Whitney recognized the voice of Tiana’s fiancé.

“Go,” she urged, “I’ll manage.”

“Of all times for a lunch date. At least Stella is nearby for an ad meeting. Don’t worry about me,” Tiana reassured Whitney before heading out.

Whitney nodded and, with her assistant in tow, proceeded inside.

Her eyes swept the judges‘ panel, a hint of surprise crossing her face–Ludwik, her notorious rival, was conspicuously absent. Was he not the head judge?

was he not here? He had insinuated a compromising offer just days before, and now he showed no interest? She had wanted to prove her mettle to him, but perhaps it was for the best. It was better not

the present. She handed in her designs and returned to her seat, only to catch Monica flashing her a

Whitney’s breath hitched.

did that smile

rising unease and settled down

the designs were displayed on the large screen, the room fell into

her work was displayed next to Monica’s–identical in

How

Whitney with incredulity. “Sis, how come your design is the

flurry of speculation about plagiarism. Whitney’s eyes turned to

declared, “That design is my original

my concept.”

face twisted into a mask of martyrdom. Sis, what are you talking about? That’s clearly my design.” The audience

submissions, and one must be a copy. You both claim originality, so

on her laptop. The assistant’s face went ashen. “Whitney…” she

their work

sinking in. As she glanced up, she caught Monica smirking triumphantly, her laptop in

on Whitney; she had

Aaron, who projected the file dates

Whitney.” Aaron turned

technical issue,” Whitney said, her voice like steel. “But Aaron, the concept of that traditional style jewelry is mine. I can detail the entire creative process to

conferred and agreed to hear

to explain down to every

listened carefully while nodding, their faces filled

Whitney off, saying, “Sis, that is

claiming Whitney’s ideas as