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Novel Catalog
Chapter_38
Whitney, Tiana, and their assistant made their way into the competition hall, each carrying a laptop, their expressions focused and determined. The hall buzzed with excitement and competition, a perfect stage for the creative minds vying for victory. As they entered, the sleek black Skye Gem Ltd. vehicle came to a smooth stop at the entrance, and out stepped Monica. Her stiletto heels clicked loudly, echoing through the hall, a sound that seemed to challenge everything in its path. Behind her, her design entourage followed in a well-coordinated parade. The contrast was striking. Whitney’s team appeared somewhat out of place, almost shabby by comparison.
A tense silence filled the space as their eyes met across the room. It was a silent standoff, a battle without words, but each understood the unspoken challenge in the air. Monica, ever confident, walked past Whitney with a slow, almost mocking smile. “Look who showed up,” she said, her tone dripping with condescension. “Best of luck, Sis. You’ll need it if you want to take first place.” Her voice was sweet, yet her words were sharp, a thinly veiled insult.
Tiana, clearly irritated by the encounter, muttered under her breath, “What’s with her attitude? That smug smile… she knows exactly how talented you are. She’s just trying to shake you up, the fake.”
Whitney frowned, her thoughts mirroring Tiana’s words. There was something unsettling about Monica’s confidence. Even though Whitney had brought her absolute best to the competition with her latest collection—something far beyond her previous work—Monica didn’t seem the least bit worried. It was almost as if she had already won, but why?
Before Whitney could dwell too much on it, Tiana’s phone rang, cutting through the tense atmosphere. After a brief exchange of words, Whitney could tell it was Tiana’s fiancé on the other end.
“Go,” Whitney urged, her voice steady. “I’ll be fine. You go ahead.”
Tiana hesitated, but then reassured her, “Of all the times for a lunch date! At least Stella’s nearby for the ad meeting. Don’t worry about me.” With that, she hurried off, leaving Whitney and her assistant to head further into the competition hall.
Whitney’s eyes roved over the judges’ panel, but there was a momentary flicker of surprise. Ludwik, her notorious rival and a key player in her industry, was nowhere to be seen. Wasn’t he supposed to be the head judge for this competition? His absence gnawed at her. What was going on?
She shook off the feeling of irritation and refocused, waiting for the announcement to submit her designs. She handed in her collection and returned to her seat, only to notice Monica giving her a strange, almost knowing smile.
Whitney’s heart skipped a beat. What did that smile mean? The unease in her gut deepened, but she kept her composure, choosing not to dwell on it.
As the designs were displayed on the massive screen, the room fell into a stunned silence. The crowd shifted uncomfortably, murmuring amongst themselves. Whitney’s eyes widened as she looked at the screen—there, side by side, were her designs and Monica’s. Identical in every way. Her assistant gripped her hand in disbelief.
“Whitney, what… what’s going on? How can this be?”
Monica suddenly stood, her voice carrying across the room, “Sis, how come your design is exactly the same as mine?”
The accusation was like a spark in a dry forest. The room erupted into whispers and murmurs. The media snapped pictures as the crowd buzzed with questions about plagiarism. Whitney’s mind raced. So that was why Monica had been so calm. She had set a trap, and Whitney had walked right into it.
Whitney stood up, her anger bubbling to the surface. “That design is my original work. Monica stole it from me,” she declared, her voice sharp, cutting through the whispers.
Monica’s face contorted into an expression of false innocence. “Sis, what are you talking about? That’s clearly my design,” she said, acting the part of a victim as the audience watched in shock.
Aaron, the head judge, intervened, trying to bring some order to the chaos. “We have two identical submissions. One must be a copy. You both claim originality, so I’ll need the digital file metadata to clear this up.”
Whitney turned to her assistant, who quickly tried to pull up the file history on her laptop. But when the screen appeared, it was blank.
“Whitney…” the assistant stammered, her voice shaky. “The files… they’re gone.”
A cold dread swept over Whitney as she looked at the empty screen. Her work had vanished. Monica stood a few feet away, a satisfied smirk on her face, holding her own laptop.
Whitney realized then—it wasn’t just the design that had been stolen. Monica had erased all evidence of her creation. It was a calculated move. She had carefully framed Whitney, knowing the competition was her chance to strike.
Monica, holding up her laptop, presented her ‘evidence’ to Aaron. The file metadata flashed on the screen—October 2nd. She was prepared. “Now, Whitney,” Aaron said, his tone cool, “your evidence?”
Whitney’s mind raced. She had to act fast. “There was a technical issue,” she said, her voice controlled, even though fury simmered beneath. “But Aaron, the concept for this traditional-style jewelry is mine. I can explain the entire creative process to prove it’s my work.”
The judges exchanged skeptical glances but agreed to hear her out. Whitney took a deep breath, then began outlining the process she had gone through to create the design. She explained every detail, the inspiration, the materials, the techniques.
The judges listened carefully, their expressions unreadable. But before Whitney could finish, Monica interrupted, saying, “Sis, that’s my process you’re describing!”
Monica then proceeded to describe the design in detail, almost word for word what Whitney had just explained. The judges were stunned. It was as if Monica had not only stolen Whitney’s design but also her entire creative thought process.
Whitney’s heart sank as she saw the truth of the situation unfold. This wasn’t just about plagiarism. Monica had infiltrated her mind, taken her ideas, and used them to set her up.
As Monica continued to play the role of the victim, claiming that Whitney had stolen her concept after seeking advice, Whitney’s patience snapped. “Enough!” she said, her voice cold. “I started brainstorming my design before you, on the 28th of last month.”
Monica took two shaky steps back, her face contorting into a hurt expression. “Sis, I let it slide when you took credit for my work in the past, but this? You’ve gone too far. You’ve stolen from me and used this competition to frame me. After your scandal, you disappeared, ignoring all the calls Dad and I made. Now you’re back, using this contest to destroy me? This is a new low for the Valentine family!”
Tears streamed down Monica’s face as she recounted Whitney’s supposed crimes. The judges were in shock. The audience buzzed with disbelief, and the media began to take note. Whitney had already been accused of stealing from Monica to secure her position as CEO of Skye Gem. The scandal was repeating itself, and it seemed like Whitney was in a no-win situation.
The media exploded with outrage. “Despicable! This woman is vile and manipulative!”
