Chapter 213

Chapter 213

Alaric paused, his gaze were cold as ice as they landed on Elowen's face. "But I never thought you'd do something like this."

Elowen's expression grew even uglier.

"What did I do?" She forced a smile. "I only wanted to have dinner with you. What's wrong with that?"

Alaric didn't answer. Instead, he pulled something small from his pocket.

It was a test strip.

He lifted the wine glass off the table and let a single drop of wine fall onto it.


The test strip instantly turned blue.

Elowen's face collapsed completely. She looked at Alaric in horror.

When did he find out? Or had he known from the beginning?

"Let me explain..." She opened her mouth, wanting to justify herself, but couldn't say anything.

Alaric tossed the test strip into the trash, looking at her with icy eyes, then slowly uttered one word. "Disgusting."

He hated people who schemed against him most of all. If Harper hadn't asked him to help complete this task, he wouldn't have come.

Elowen's tears instantly welled up.

She lunged forward, trying to grab his hand. "Alaric, let me explain! I didn't mean to. I just wanted you too much! I just..."

Alaric shook off her hand.

"Enough," he said. "From today on, there's no relationship between you and me."

He turned to leave.

Elowen shouted hysterically behind him, "Alaric! Do you really like that divorced woman that much? What's so special about her? She's not worthy of you!"

Alaric stopped and looked back at her.

That gaze was so cold that it made her shiver.

"Whether she's worthy," he enunciated each word, "is not for you to say. If I hear you disparage her again, you can try and see what happens."

The door closed.

Elowen collapsed to the floor, trembling all over.

This was the longest thing Alaric had ever said to her, yet it was for Harper's sake. Elowen felt jealousy, hatred, and also fear.

How did this happen? How did Alaric know she'd drugged him?

She couldn't figure it out.

Alaric didn't go home. He went straight to Harper's studio.

He pushed open the door. Harper was sitting at her drafting table, pen in hand, but not drawing.

Seeing him, her eyes curved. "You're back?"

Alaric walked over and pulled her into his embrace.

Harper was startled, then gently patted his back.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

Alaric buried his face in her shoulder, his voice muffled.

"Harper," he said, "I was almost drugged. I'm scared."

Harper almost laughed out loud. Seeing the tall Alaric nestled against her like a quail, she gently patted his shoulder and coaxed him softly. "There, there. Don't be scared."

"Compensate me. Let me hold you for half an hour."

"I still have to draw. Three minutes."

"No way. At least ten minutes."

The next day, Alaric posted on social media: [Unconditionally believe in Harper.]

Just one short sentence, but it was like a bomb dropped into public opinion.

The comments exploded instantly.

[What! Alaric is publicly taking Harper's side?]

[Is Alaric going to turn against Elowen? Aren't they childhood friends?]

[Unconditionally believe! This is so sweet!]

When Elowen saw this post, she was at home smashing things.

She frantically scrolled through her phone, reading those comments, her expression twisted terribly.

"Unconditionally believe?" She gritted her teeth. "Why do you unconditionally believe her? Why!"

She smashed her phone, smashed vases, smashed everything she could smash.

Then she collapsed on the floor, crying hysterically.

Why?

Why, after all she had done, wouldn't he even look at her?

What was so good about that Harper?

But she had no answer.

She only knew that Alaric's words—'disgusting'—were stuck in her heart like a knife that wouldn't come out.

Outside, her father Upton Forbes's voice came, full of rage. "You still dare to throw a tantrum! Yesterday, Alaric nearly sabotaged all our projects for the second half of the year! Look at what you've done!"

Elowen couldn't say a word.

Yesterday, when Alaric had just left like that, she'd thought he was letting her go. Who knew the Forbes family would immediately suffer heavy losses?

Elowen was furious with frustration.

Harper immediately followed up, posting from her studio: [Tomorrow at 10 AM, truth press conference. All media friends welcome.]

The accompanying image was a pure black background with only a white question mark in the center.

Public opinion boiled over again!

[Truth press conference? Harper's going to fight back?]

[What evidence does she have? Isn't this just a dying struggle?]

[Can't wait to watch. I don't believe she can turn things around anyway.]

[Unconditionally trust Alaric's judgment! Support Harper!]

Bianca watched the comment section's winds subtly shift and grinned from ear to ear. "Harper, look! People are starting to support you!"

Harper remained calm.

She sat at the computer, organizing the evidence piece by piece.

Chat log screenshots, transfer receipts, contract documents, surveillance footage...

Every single piece pointed to the same person.

Bianca leaned over to look and couldn't help gasping. "This much? Harper, you're going to nail her crimes shut."

Harper's lips curved into a smile.

"She wanted the title of top designer," she said. "If she lost to me in fair competition, I wouldn't mind. But she wanted to destroy me. That's not acceptable."

Bianca looked at her and suddenly felt Harper had truly changed.

The previous Harper was gentle, forbearing, always willing to yield in everything.

But the current her, while still gentle, had gained an edge.

This was good—she wouldn't be bullied.

The next morning at 9:30, the press conference venue was already packed with reporters.

Cameras were set up row after row. Everyone was waiting to watch this year's big drama.

Elowen came too.

She sat in a corner wearing sunglasses and a mask, with several bodyguards by her side.

She didn't think this press conference would stir up any real trouble. It was nothing more than Harper's last desperate attempt.


At exactly 10 o'clock, Harper took the stage.

She wore a white suit, clean and professional, without a trace of panic on her face.

The audience instantly quieted.

Harper stood on stage, her gaze sweeping across the venue.

"I know everyone has been waiting for an answer these past few days." She spoke, her voice calm and clear. "Today, I'm giving you that answer."

The large screen behind her lit up.

The first image revealed a chat history between Elowen's assistant and the person running a marketing account.


The whole venue erupted.

"This is..."

"Elowen's assistant? That Elowen?"

Harper didn't stop.

The second image showed transfer records.

One by one, clear as day,money transferred from Elowen's studio account to those marketing accounts and online troll companies.

The third picture was a surveillance capture of Elowen's assistant showing up outside her studio building at the exact moment her designs were leaked the previous day.


The fourth image showed contract documents.