Chapter 114

Chapter 114

That designer named Nadia wasn't an independent designer at all, but signed with a management company that partnered with Elowen's studio.

The fifth image, sixth, seventh...

Each image was like a knife, stabbing viciously into Elowen.

The entire venue fell silent as death.

The reporters were stunned for several seconds, then instantly erupted!

"My God! It's Elowen!"

"Elowen hired online trolls to smear Harper? And fabricated plagiarism evidence?"

"That's so vicious!"

"Quick, shoot!"

Camera flashes went off like crazy, shutters clicking in waves.

In the corner, Elowen's face was pale as paper. Where did Harper get all this evidence?

Elowen's mind was in chaos, but there was no time to wonder why. She abruptly stood up, trying to leave, but was surrounded by reporters.

These reporters acted as if they'd known it was her all along, all rushing toward her.

"Ms. Forbes! Is that evidence real?"

"Did you deliberately smear Harper?"

"Why would you do this?"

Elowen's lips trembled. She could only shake her head desperately as bodyguards protected her and pushed through the crowd.

On stage, Harper remained calm.

Watching Elowen's disheveled escape, a very faint curve appeared at the corner of her mouth.

After the press conference, public opinion completely reversed.

"Elowen is so disgusting, right? All elegant and proper on the surface, but doing this kind of thing behind the scenes?"

"I thought she was a goddess, turns out she's a venomous woman!"

"Support Harper! Sue Elowen! Don't let her off!"

Outside Elowen's studio, reporters and angry netizens crowded together.

Some threw eggs at the door, while others held banners cursing her.

Partners who once courted her all turned their backs overnight, issuing statements to terminate cooperation.

She went from a "returned genius designer" to a rat everyone wanted to beat.

Elowen hid in her apartment, not daring to go out.

She frantically called Alaric, but no one answered.

She sent messages that sank without a trace.

Unwilling to accept defeat but with no options, she could only wait for the launch event.

As long as her work was better than Harper's, she could still turn things around.

A week later, the new product launch proceeded as scheduled.

The launch was held at the city's largest art center.

By 8 AM, a long queue had formed at the entrance—media reporters, industry peers, and more ordinary design enthusiasts who'd come from all over the country just to witness this annual event.

Backstage, Bianca looked at the massive crowd outside, so nervous her palms were sweating. "Harper, so many people came! Even more than last time at the design competition!"

Harper stood before the mirror, adjusting her clothes. Today she wore a moon-white dress, simple and elegant, without any unnecessary decoration. "Don't be nervous."

Bianca looked at her relaxed demeanor and suddenly wasn't nervous anymore.

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

Spotlights illuminated her, cloaking her in a soft halo.

She stood center stage, her gaze sweeping across the sea of people below.

"Thank you all for coming today." She spoke, her voice carrying through the microphone to every corner.

Applause erupted below.

Harper paused, then continued. "Today, I want to talk about—the work."

The large screen behind her lit up. "This collection is called 'Homecoming.'"

When the final image finished displaying, the entire venue fell silent for a full ten seconds.

Then, applause erupted like thunder.

The applause wasn't polite or perfunctory, but it was heartfelt and surging with acclaim.

Someone stood up. Others followed. Finally, the entire venue rose in standing ovation, applause lasting endlessly.

In a corner, Elowen wore a mask and sunglasses, standing at the very back of the crowd.

She'd sneaked out. Unwilling to accept defeat, she had to see with her own eyes what work Harper could produce.

But now she regretted it.

The more carefully she examined the work, the colder her heart grew.

Not because it was bad—because it was too good.

So good that her so-called "new products" looked like elementary school doodles in comparison.

She thought of her own collection—gorgeous, avant-garde, full of talking points.

She'd spent so much money, hired so many designers, pulled so many all-nighters, and the result she'd produced—she'd once thought it stunning enough.

But now, looking at Harper's work, she finally understood what "good" meant.

Elowen turned and quietly left the venue. She had to leave quickly, or more people would rush to interview her.

When she left, no one noticed her.

Everyone's attention remained on Harper in her moon-white dress on stage.

Harper stood on stage, still calm.

When Elowen returned home, her whole body was trembling.

She locked herself in her room, frantically scrolling through her phone. With each comment she read, her face grew a shade paler.

[Elowen's works compared to Harper's are just a joke!]

[And she dared claim she'd be the country's top designer?]

[Elowen should get out of the design world! Stop embarrassing yourself!]

[Harper completely crushes Elowen, no contest!]

She threw down her phone, covered her face with both hands, gasping for breath.

No, it couldn't be like this.

She couldn't just lose like this.

She still had a chance.

As long as Alaric would help her, as long as Alaric would remember their families' friendship and say a word for her.

Right, Alaric.

Elowen suddenly lifted her head, a trace of madness flashing in her eyes.

Early the next morning, she carefully dressed herself up.

She wore the plainest white dress, applied the lightest makeup, deliberately dusted a bit of powder around her eyes to make herself look haggard yet innocent.

She practiced her "aggrieved yet resilient" expression in the mirror several times until satisfied.

Then she went to Alaric's company.

The receptionist recognized her. After hesitating, she still let her in.

After all, she was the young lady of the Forbes family, and the two families had old ties.

Elowen entered the elevator. Looking at her carefully disguised face in the mirror, she took a deep breath.

Alaric was in his office handling documents. Seeing her enter, his brow immediately furrowed. "What are you doing here?"

Elowen's eyes immediately reddened.

She walked up to him, her voice choked, tears swirling in her eyes. "Alaric, I came to explain to you. Those things—I really didn't know about them."

Alaric said nothing, only looked at her.

Elowen continued, "It was that assistant. She acted on her own! She was jealous of Harper, always couldn't stand her, so she came up with this idea to harm her herself. By the time I found out, it was too late..."

Her tears rolled down, making her look pitifully vulnerable. "Alaric, we've known each other so many years. Don't you understand me? How could I possibly do such a thing? How could I harm anyone? Think about when we were kids—I couldn't bear to step on even an ant. When the neighbor's kitten got hurt, I cried and carried it to the hospital..."