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?

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

handed

Whitney’s breath hitched.

that smile

unease and settled down

were displayed on the large screen, the room fell into a stunned silence. The crowd

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

what’s happening? How

“Sis, how come your design is the same

the audience, sparking a flurry of speculation about plagiarism. Whitney’s eyes turned to ice. So that was why Monica had been so calm–she had

thunderous rage, Whitney declared, “That

my concept.”

a mask of martyrdom. Sis, what are you talking about? That’s clearly

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

the file history on her laptop.

their work

in. As she glanced up, she caught Monica smirking

Whitney; she had

to Aaron, who projected the file

turned to

of that traditional style jewelry is mine. I can detail the entire creative process to

conferred and agreed

began to explain down

while nodding,

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

on Whitney’s words, claiming Whitney’s ideas as her own, describing the

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