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Chapter 42
One of the crowd chimed in. “So, Ophelia was the one hiding her true abilities all along!”
Another one added, “It’s like the student who came last in class claiming that the top student was copying from him! Makes no sense at all I can’t believe I was rooting for Brock this whole time, only to find out he’s the real cheater. What a disappointment!” “Disappointment doesn’t even begin to cover it someone else exclaimed. He’s so shameless. Just now, accusing Ophelia of copying him. I almost believed him!TM he was confidently
Another voice chimed in. “This is insane! It’s disgusting, honestly. A person as shameless as him shouldn’t just be disqualified from the competition. They need to dig into his past achievements and see if those were earned fairly!” Someone else agreed, “Exactly…”
With a taunting smirk, Ophelia looked at Brock and asked, “So, Mr. Decker, do you have anything else to explain?”
His shoulders rose and fell with tension, and the coldness in his eyes was a far cry from his usual friendly, boy-next-door appearance. “Do you really need to ruin me to feel satisfied?” he snarled through gritted teeth, his voice low and bitter. Ophelia’s lips curled slightly, and a sharp chill gleamed in her innocent-looking eyes. “Well, you reap what you sow,” she remarked coolly.
With unwavering determination, she thought, ‘Brock, I’ll make sure you understand that even though you stole from mel and basked in fame and fortune, I can still bring you crashing down to the ground!
“Mr. Bishop, how do you plan to resolve this matter?” Ophelia directed her question to Cameron. “How did my original sketch end up with Brock’s name on it, sealed in his submission Doesn’t the production team owe me a reasonable explanation?” “Well…” Cameron hesitated, throwing a pleading look at Miles. This wasn’t his mess to clean up.
Miles’ expression was stormy, barely concealing his frustration as he gave Brock a stern glare. Turning to Ophelia, he said, “Miss Spencer, I’ll personally see to it that you’re properly compensated. You’ll get every bit of what the champion deserves. and if you have any other requests, don’t hesitate to ask…”
As soon as Emily heard the words “don’t hesitate to ask”, she immediately grew tense and shot a wary look at Ophelia.
But Ophelia didn’t even spare Emily a glance, replying. “My request is simple. I want a public apology from both the production team and Brock. And I want the full story made clear on Twitter
“That’s impossible!” Brock was the first to object, his eyes red with desperation. He knew that if he publicly apologized, his life would be over-his reputation, his accolades, everything would be gone. He couldn’t let that happen. He just couldn’t.
Cameron’s face turned grim as well. “Ophelia, if this goes public the show will be ruined. All the hard work you and the other designers and models have put in will be for nothing
*Fine. Then I’ll have my lawyer proceed with legal action,” Ophelia responded bluntly, unwilling to waste any more time.
Cameron, who had been hoping to appeal to her emotions, was gunned by her indifference. Seeing no way out, he could only look to the person in charge for a decision
Miles narrowed his eyes at Ophelia. “I know exactly what you’re after. Let’s settle this privately. He looked at her and thought, ‘Isn’t she just doing this to get my attention! I’ve already said all this, and it’s still not enough?”
“Settle it privately? Didn’t you personally say that you’d handle this publicly and give the audience an explanation, Mr. Lewis? Now you want to settle it behind closed doors?” Ophelia blinked her wide, innocent eyes. Could this slap in the face
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have come any quickert
Miles took a deep breath, lowering his voice. Just name your price.”
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He thought that if Ophelia wasn’t doing all this to get him to notice her, then it had to be for the money. He figured that if that were what she wanted, he’d just give it to her and be done with it.
She calmly said, “I know you’re rich, Mr. Lewis. But you can’t just throw your money around and expect everything to go your way, right? Your chief designer at Fashion Ladies plagiarizel, and you haven’t even apologized. Now you want to pay me off? Is this how the great Lewis Group handles things?”
Ophelia’s voice wasn’t loud, but it was clear enough for the nearby crowd and part of the audience to hear.
“You…” Miles glared at her with fury, wondering when she had started treating him with such blatant disregard.
Emily noticed the shift in his gaze toward Ophelia and immediately wanted to step in, but she slipped and landed face-first on the ground.
One person in the crowd burst out laughing, “Oops! The side chick is down! She fell flat on her face. How embarrassing”
“Emily!” Miles rushed to help Emily up. Her face flushed with embarrassment as she hurried off the stage, enduring the mocking langhter of the crowd.
Inwardly, she grumbled, I only wanted to use this event to get same attention for my movie. Now I become the model for a plagiarist. How humiliating!
Miles didn’t chase after Emily right away. Instead, he turned back and muttered under his breath, “300 thousand dollars
Sharon, who had been watching the whole scene unfold, couldn’t help but chuckle, “300 thousand dollars? Since when did La Reverie dresses go for so cheap?” Brock clenched his fists tightly and glared at Ophelia. “I know what you want! I can give it back to you. Can we just call this
even?
“Sure. Return it to me, and I won’t pursue this any further,’ she replied coolly. The director, overhearing her words, let out a sigh of relief.
After leaving the TV station, Ophelia followed Brock to Fashion Ladies’ studio, where he slammed an old, yellowed sketchbook down on the table. “Ophelia, you really played dirty!
She picked up the sketchbook and flipped through it. Inside were her grandmother’s delicate handwriting and sketches of dress designs, along with her own childhood drawings of arms, legs, faces, and hairstyles added to each dress. This wasn’t just a simple sketchbook. It held memories of her and her grandmother.
From the moment Ophelia saw Brock, she had been slowly setting this trap, all for the sake of getting this sketchbook back.
As she left Fashion Ladies, she ran into Marilyn at the entrance of the building.
“Miss Spencer!” Marilyn exclaimed. Ever since she found out Ophelia was the founder of La Reverie, her eyes sparkled every time she saw her.
Ophelia always found it both amusing and frustrating when she was addressed as Miss Spencer. “Are you headed to Fashion Ladies?”
Marilyn sighed and nodded, “Mr. Decker had asked me to be his assistant, but after what happened, I don’t want anymore… I’m afraid that…”
She was afraid that he might steal her designs. But she didn’t say that out loud. After all, she was just a fewcomer, and her work wasn’t worth much. Such worries seemed trivial in front of these industry giants.
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Ophelia nodded thoughtfully. “I get it. Would you be interested joining La Reverie?”
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“Huh? W-what?” Marilyn’s wide eyes stared up in shock, her cute, loll-like face filled with disbelief. She thought she had to be hearing things-there was no way something this amazing could be real, not even in her dreams. Ophelia repeated. Tm in need of a designer.
Marilyn felt dizzy at this point, thinking. ‘Did 1 hear that right? Not an assistant, but a designer? Oh my world!
Then, Ophelia watched as Marilyn pinched her own arm hard, wincing as the pain shot through her. It was enough to confirm that this wasn’t a dream.
“I would love to! I’d absolutely love to!” Marilyn said excitedly, her eyes sparkling as she looked at Ophelia.
“Great. I’ll send you an address. Come by when you have time to report in,” Ophelia said, opening WhatsApp. Just as she was about to send Marilyn the address, a video call notification popped up. Her hand slipped, and she accidentally h