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?

before, and now he showed no interest? She had

announcement for all contestants to submit their work snapped Whitney back to the present. She handed in her

Whitney’s breath hitched.

that

and settled down

room fell into a stunned silence. The crowd was visibly

work was displayed next to Monica’s–identical in every way. Her assistant’s grip

happening? How can your work

Whitney with incredulity. “Sis, how come your

a flurry of speculation about plagiarism. Whitney’s eyes turned to ice. So that was why Monica had been

up with a thunderous rage, Whitney declared, “That

my concept.”

are you talking about? That’s clearly my design.” The audience and media

be a copy. You both claim originality, so present your digital file metadata

turned to her assistant, who pulled up the file history on her laptop. The assistant’s face

their work had

she caught Monica smirking triumphantly, her laptop in hand as

Whitney; she had walked right into Monica’s

presented her ‘evidence‘ to Aaron, who projected the file

Aaron turned to her. “Your

“But Aaron, the concept of that traditional style jewelry is mine. I can detail the entire creative process to prove

judges conferred and agreed

began to explain

while nodding, their faces filled

Monica cut Whitney off, saying, “Sis, that is my

claiming Whitney’s ideas as her own,

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