Chapter 219

Chapter 219

Before the cemetery incident could be investigated, various troubles came one after another.

Harper had just arrived at the studio when Bianca walked in with a grave expression. "Harper, someone reported our studio for tax evasion. They want us to prepare materials for an audit next week."

Harper's pen paused. "Reported?"

Bianca nodded, her expression grim. "They said it was an anonymous report, but the complaint was extremely detailed, even listing several large transactions from last year. If this wasn't done by an insider, then someone investigated us thoroughly."

Harper was silent for a moment, then smiled.

That smile was as cold as winter ice. "It's Elowen."

Bianca was startled. "How do you know?"

"Her assistant Pearl eventually told everything." Harper put down her pen and leaned back in her chair. "Elowen has been in this circle for so many years—she has plenty of connections. Investigating our studio's accounts wouldn't be difficult for her."

Bianca became anxious. "Then what do we do? An audit is no joke! What if..."

"There is no what if." Harper interrupted her. "Every single one of our transaction is crystal clear. Let her investigate. The more thorough, the better."

She paused, stood up, and walked to the window. "However, since she wants to play this game, I'll play along."

That afternoon, Harper had the finance department organize all the accounts, making three copies, preparing everything properly.

Not only that, but she also had someone retrieve all tax records from the past three years and compile them into clear spreadsheets.

Bianca looked at those neatly organized documents and couldn't help but ask, "You're..."

"Delivering it to their doorstep voluntarily." Harper's lips curved slightly. "She wants to investigate? I'll let her investigate to her heart's content. Once the investigation's done and there are no problems, guess what will happen to those who reported us?"

Bianca's eyes lit up. "A slap in the face?"

Harper nodded. "Not just that. False accusations carry consequences."

Three days later, the audit results came out—Harper's studio had clear accounts, complete tax records, and no problems whatsoever.

Before leaving, the tax officials even shook Harper's hand. "Ms. Mellon, thank you for your cooperation. Well-regulated studios like yours are rare."

Harper smiled. "As it should be."

When the news spread, those waiting to watch the drama were dumbfounded.

Marketing accounts that had been sneakily reposting the complaint quietly deleted their posts.

Those making snide comments also shut up.

Bianca scrolled through her phone, grinning from ear to ear. "Harper, look! Public opinion completely reversed! Some people were saying we definitely had problems, and the result? No problems at all!"

Harper didn't smile.

She looked out the window, her brow slightly furrowed.

Though this matter was resolved, she felt it wasn't that simple.

Elowen wasn't stupid. Why would she do something so futile when she knew nothing would be found?

Unless...

She was diverting attention?

"Bianca," Harper suddenly spoke. "How's the security situation for the upcoming exhibition?"

Bianca was startled. "It's fine. Why?"

Harper shook her head. "Nothing. Just keep an extra eye out."

As it turned out, her intuition was correct.

Two days later, Harper's studio's exhibition that had been in preparation for three months officially began—the first offline unveiling of their annual new products, with hundreds of industry guests and media reporters invited.

The night before the exhibition, all exhibits had been set up.

Thirty-seven design pieces, each one Harper's life's work, taking a full two months from sampling to finished product.

At 2 AM, the exhibition hall's surveillance suddenly went black for ten minutes.

When security discovered the anomaly and rushed in, the exhibition hall was a disaster.

The main centerpiece exhibit, the grand finale Harper had specially designed for this exhibition, had been pushed off its platform and shattered into pieces.

Several other pieces nearby had been splashed with paint—red and black mixed together, a horrible sight.

The security captain called Harper with a deadly pale face.

Harper was asleep when she received the call. After hearing the captain out, she was silent for three seconds. "Did you call the police?"

"Yes. They'll be here soon."

"Good. I'll be right there."

After hanging up, Harper sat on the edge of her bed and took a deep breath.

The cemetery and now the exhibition—both incidents in succession. She wouldn't believe it wasn't deliberate!

But she couldn't panic.

The more dire the situation, the less she could panic.

Twenty minutes later, Harper arrived at the exhibition hall.

The police had already arrived and were investigating the scene. Bianca had rushed over too, her eyes red—clearly she'd been crying.

"Harper..." Seeing Harper, her voice choked. "That centerpiece..."

Harper patted her hand without speaking and walked over to crouch before the pile of fragments.

She picked up the pieces one by one, her movements gentle, as if handling precious fragile treasures.

No one around dared to speak.

After a long time, Harper stood up and looked at the security captain. "The surveillance?"

The captain's face grew even paler. "The surveillance... those ten minutes of blackout, nothing was captured. By the time it came back on, it was already like this."

Harper's brow furrowed. "What about before those ten minutes? Did it capture anyone?"

The captain shook his head. "Everything was normal before. Nothing was captured."

"Such professional methods," Harper mused. "This wasn't done by ordinary people."

Bianca was startled. "You mean..."

"Someone hired them for money." Harper turned around, looking at those destroyed pieces. "The goal wasn't to steal, but to destroy. Destroy my exhibits, destroy my launch, destroy my life's work."

She paused, a glint appearing in her eyes. "But they missed one thing."

Bianca asked, "What?"

Harper pointed to a corner of the exhibition hall. "There. There's a hidden camera. I had it installed. Only I know about it."

Bianca's eyes lit up.

Two hours later, based on footage from that hidden camera, police apprehended two suspects.

They were workers from a nearby construction site, saying someone had paid them to break in and cause destruction at night.

They didn't know who paid them, only saying it was a man wearing a mask who paid in cash.

Harper listened without speaking.

She suddenly thought of Rupert.

The only man who had a grudge against her was Rupert!

He hated her, she knew.

But she hadn't imagined he'd hate to this extent—hate enough to destroy what her mother had left behind.

But she had no proof. Neither did the police.

Those two workers had only taken the money without seeing their employer's true face. The trail ended there.

The next day, the exhibition proceeded as scheduled.

That destroyed centerpiece, Harper replaced with another piece—not a backup, but something she'd rushed to complete overnight.

Clean lines, sharp tailoring, no unnecessary decoration.

Just like her current mood—hurt, destroyed, but still standing.