Public opinion swelled and twisted. My name was mentioned again and again alongside Chloe’s, with some even daring to question whether my so-called international awards had been won honestly—or stolen.
I stood before the floor-to-ceiling window, a fresh newspaper clenched in my hand.
The headline on the front page blared:
“Genius Architect Feud? Former Classmates in the Design World Set for a Direct Showdown.”
“Miss, should we issue a statement?” my assistant asked nervously, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Clarify?” I let out a cold laugh. “Do you really think a clarification will silence gossip? They don’t care about the truth—they want a spectacle.”
I tossed the newspaper into the fireplace, watching as the flames devoured those glaring headlines.
“If they want a show,” I murmured, “then I’ll give them one worth watching.”
Three days later, the press conference.
The hall glittered with bright chandeliers, cameras flashing in dizzying bursts.
Ethan stood confidently on stage in a tailored suit, while Chloe wore a pristine white dress, her face radiant with a carefully cultivated fragility.
But the moment she began speaking, her voice cracked into a trembling sob.