Chapter 9: Slandered and Falsely Accused
She did not know how long she had slept until a sound of brutal intrusion jolted her awake.
The bedroom door was forced open with a spare key. Damian stormed in with two bodyguards dressed in black suits, his face covered in a layer of frost.
“Turn this place inside out,” he commanded coldly “Don't miss any paper, any file.”
Evelyn’s heart plummeted.
“Damian, you are insane! This is my bedroom!”
“Your bedroom?” Damian sneered, advancing on her step by step. “Evelyn, I underestimated you. Not only do you dare to be intimate with other men, but now you dare to steal the company’s commercial secrets?”
“What commercial secrets? I don’t know what you are talking about!”
“You don't know?” Damian seized her wrist. The force was so great it felt like he was trying to crush her bones. “Someone gave an anonymous tip-off claiming you used my trust to steal Omni’s core design blueprints for the next season, trying to sell them to our competitor.”
A sharp ringing sound went off in Evelyn’s mind.
It must be Sienna again.
This lie was flawlessly constructed. It could both destroy her design drafts and completely eliminate any possibility of retreat she had with Damian.
“I didn't!” Evelyn struggled fiercely, but the difference in strength between them was too great. She was pinned down by Damian and couldn't move.
The two bodyguards had already begun to brutally ransack the room.
Clothes, books, and miscellaneous items were tossed everywhere. The entire room instantly became a mess, more chaotic than if it had been looted.
“Stop it! Stop it immediately!” Evelyn shrieked.
But no one listened to her.
Soon, a bodyguard pulled the design drafts from the desk drawer.
“Boss, there are some blueprints here.”
Damian let go of Evelyn and strode over, snatching the blueprints away.
Evelyn’s heart leaped into her throat.
Damian flipped through the drafts one by one.
The drawings were extremely professional, the lines precise, with parameters for various fabrics and processes marked next to them.
To an outsider like him, these were indistinguishable from the company’s commercial blueprints.
“Still claiming innocence?” He held up the draft. “Evelyn Voss, you are truly something! I locked you at home, and you still managed to cause this trouble! Do you think I wouldn’t dare to do anything to you?”
“That is not commercial secret!” Evelyn rushed forward, trying to grab the drafts back, but he shoved her away. She stumbled, hitting the edge of the bed, and a dull pain shot through her abdomen.
“Those are my design drafts! They are my own work!”
“Your work?” Damian sounded like he had heard the biggest joke. “Based on you? A woman who has been a housewife for eight years and can’t even distinguish between paint and a pencil? Stop dreaming!”
The contempt and ridicule in his eyes were like a poisoned sharp blade, stabbing fiercely into Evelyn’s heart.
He simply did not believe she was capable of this.
In his eyes, she had long since become a useless waste.
Damian stopped looking at her. He carefully folded the drafts, as if they truly were priceless commercial secrets.
He walked to the wall, pushed aside an oil painting, revealing a built-in safe behind it.
He input the password, tossed the blueprints inside, and with a click, locked the safe door.
That sound was like a death sentence for Evelyn’s hope.
“Until I figure this matter out, these things will remain with me,” he turned around, looking down at Evelyn, who was slumped on the floor. “You had better behave yourself. If I find you having any wicked ideas again, it won’t be as simple as being locked at home.”
With that, he and his men left, turning on their heels.
Only Evelyn and the scattered mess remained in the room.
Her design drafts, the hope she had painstakingly created through several sleepless nights, battling illness and darkness, were now locked in that cold iron box.
The submission deadline was tomorrow.
Everything was over.
Despair washed over her like a tide. She lay on the floor, finally unable to hold back, letting out a suppressed, painful sob.
Late into the night.
Evelyn crawled up from the cold floor, her eyes red, tear stains still visible on her face.
She couldn't just accept this.
She walked to the safe, her fingers tracing the cold metal door.
She knew the password. Damian’s password was always the day they first met.
It had never changed all these years.
The irony was that he was using a password full of affection to lock away the very thing that would destroy her future.
Her fingers trembled on the keypad as she entered the numbers, one by one.
When the last digit was pressed, the safe emitted a soft beep.
She held her breath and gently pulled the door open.
The instant the door creaked ajar, the room lights suddenly switched on.
The blinding light made Evelyn instinctively close her eyes.
“What are you doing?”
Damian’s voice came from the doorway, cold and completely devoid of warmth.
He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, looking at her with the scrutiny one gives a thief.
He hadn't left at all. He had been waiting, waiting for her to walk right into his trap.
Evelyn’s heart was squeezed by an invisible hand, almost stopping its beating.
Her hand was still resting on the safe door, caught red-handed.
She slowly turned around, meeting his ruthless gaze.
Damian walked in, took the stack of design drafts from her hand, and casually flipped through them.
“You really go to great lengths for these pieces of scrap paper,” he scoffed, his tone full of disdain. “I told you, stop daydreaming. A designer? Evelyn, just look at what you’ve become.”
His words were like a blunt knife, repeatedly slashing at her already scarred heart.
Evelyn looked at him, at the man she had loved for eight years. There was no trace of gentleness left on his handsome face, only coldness and cruelty.
She didn't argue anymore, nor did she explain.
Her tears had dried up, and her heart was completely frozen.
He held up the papers, his voice full of mockery. “How much were you planning to sell these for? Enough for you and that doctor, Ethan, to elope to some small island where no one knows you?”
Evelyn’s heart felt tightly constricted by an invisible hand, the pain making it impossible to breathe.
Her life's work, her dreams, the hope she had earned over countless nights, was, in his eyes, nothing more than leverage for running away with another man.
She suddenly stopped struggling.
It wasn't surrender, but a thorough, weary numbness.
She unclenched her fists, lowered her eyelids, and her once-straight spine seemed to lose its bone, collapsing little by little.
“You win, Damian.”