Chapter 229

Chapter 229

Harper leaned against Alaric, silent for a long time.

Then she cried.

She cried her heart out, her whole body shaking, crying like a child abandoned by the entire world.

She cried for her mother's senseless death, for being deceived all these years, for all the grievances and hurt she'd endured.

All those years of suppressed pain, all those years of unknown truth, all that fury at being betrayed—everything exploded in this moment.

Alaric held her without saying a word, just gently patting her back.

He knew that right now, what she needed wasn't comfort, just a shoulder to lean on.

Rupert's case was settled. Next up was Elowen.

Actually, Elowen's case was simpler than Rupert's.

Every piece of evidence pointed clearly to Elowen.

She wanted to deny it, but in the face of ironclad proof, denial was futile.

During interrogation, Elowen still tried to argue. "I was forced by Rupert! He threatened me, that's why I paid! He did everything, I just..."

The police slapped a stack of transfer records in front of her. "This money—you withdrew it from your own account. Did Rupert force you? Those gossip accounts—you contacted them yourself. Who threatened you?"

Elowen's mouth opened, but not a single word came out.

Even better, as the investigation deepened, all of Elowen's scandals from over the years were dug up one by one.

First, the fake credentials.

Elowen had always claimed she graduated from a famous design school in Paris, a genius designer who'd studied abroad.

But someone discovered that while she did attend that school, she only lasted one year before being asked to leave. She never got a diploma at all.

The so-called "genius designer" was nothing but a façade.

Back then, she'd slunk home in disgrace after being expelled for plagiarizing her thesis.

When she left, she didn't even have time to pack all her luggage.

Then there was the plagiarism.

An anonymous source compiled a detailed comparison chart, placing Elowen's works from over the years alongside those of obscure foreign designers.

The lines and structures were shockingly similar.

Turns out most of her so-called "talent" was stolen.

She plagiarized from school through her career, from abroad to home, for a solid ten years.

Someone tallied it up—of the sixty-seven pieces she'd released since her debut, forty-two had identifiable originals.

And there was the bullying of newcomers.

People from the industry came forward one after another, sharing their experiences of being victimized by Elowen.

Stealing collaborations, intercepting resources, paying internet trolls—you couldn't count on one hand the number of new designers she'd crushed over the years.

Some lost major deals because of her, their companies went bankrupt. Others fell into depression and nearly left the design world entirely.

Those victims came forward one by one, exposing Elowen's crimes to the public.

One revelation after another came out, and Elowen's reputation went completely rotten.

The internet turned from sympathizing with her to despising her.

[Elowen is so disgusting! Fake credentials, plagiarized work, and she bullied newcomers!]

[This woman actually had the nerve to accuse Harper? How dare she?]

[I actually believed her before. I'm so blind! I even helped her attack Harper—I want to slap myself now!]

[Elowen get out of the design world! Never come back! Don't contaminate this field!]

[The industry association should ban her for life. Someone like this doesn't deserve to be a designer! Let her go to prison!]

The Design Industry Association held an emergency meeting that night that lasted a full four hours.

They reached a final decision: revoke Elowen's membership and permanently ban her from participating in any design activities.

The decision passed unanimously. Not a single dissenting vote.

As soon as the news broke, those partners who'd been waiting on the sidelines immediately sent termination letters.

One after another, falling like dominoes.

Within two days, all thirty-seven partners terminated their contracts, and all eight projects under negotiation were canceled.

Someone calculated that Elowen's losses in breach penalties and compensation exceeded thirty million dollars.

Elowen's studio shut its doors, employees were dismissed, collaborations terminated.

Those employees who'd worked with her for years didn't even look at her when they left.

She went from a glamorous "genius designer returning from abroad" to a rat everyone wanted to beat in the streets.

That evening, Elowen sat alone in the empty studio.

The lights were off, only the neon signs from outside shone in, flickering on and off.

She looked at those trophies and certificates that once made her proud, and suddenly laughed.

That smile looked worse than crying.

She remembered her bold declarations when she returned home, the media that fawned over her, those partners who sucked up to her.

She thought as long as she was ruthless enough, smart enough, she could have everything.

But now?

She had nothing left.

She picked up a trophy—the first one she'd won after returning home.

She smashed the trophy hard onto the floor. Glass shattered everywhere, shards flying up to cut her leg. She didn't care.

Her phone rang.

It was her mother.

"Elowen, we heard everything that happened. You... come home. Don't stay out there anymore. I've booked your ticket—leave tomorrow. The family won't let you come back, so go hide abroad for a while. When things blow over, we'll talk."

Elowen was silent for a long time. "Mom, where can I even go anymore?"

Her mother said nothing.

Elowen hung up.

The next day, she booked the earliest flight out of the country.

At the airport, she wore a mask and hat, head down, walking quickly, but people still recognized her.

"Isn't that Elowen?"

"The one who slandered Harper? The plagiarist?"

"This woman actually has the nerve to leave the country? Don't come back once you're gone! Don't contaminate our land!"

Someone raised their phone to photograph her, the flash so bright she couldn't open her eyes.

More people crowded around, pointing and talking, cursing loudly.

Elowen didn't look back. She quickened her pace, almost running toward security, even losing a shoe, but didn't dare turn back to pick it up.

The day everything was settled, Alaric took Harper to the seaside.

It was Harper's favorite place, also her most painful place.

As a child, her father often brought her to play by the sea.

Back then, she thought her father was the best father in the world—he'd carry her on his shoulders, buy her ice cream, and help her collect seashells.

Those memories were so beautiful, so beautiful she couldn't believe that man would become what he did in the end.

But later she learned that the man had personally killed her mother.

And that young man who saved her at the beach that day was the only light in her life.

The car drove along the coastline for a long time before stopping at a secluded bay.

There were no tourists here, only waves, sand, and endless blue.

Sea wind blew over, carrying a salty scent, lifting her long hair.

Harper got out of the car and took a deep breath.

"This is it," she said softly. "The place where I fell in that year."