Your Talent Truly Deserves Recognition

Across town, Julian Thorne, the designer Alexander Blackwood had been searching for, sat comfortably in a cafe with Genevieve Prescott.

A grateful smile touched Genevieve's lips. "Julian, I can't thank you enough. This opportunity to finally cut ties with Evelyn is all thanks to you."

"Think nothing of it, Genevieve. We go back to our school days," Julian replied brightly. "I should be thanking you. Our collaboration has restored my reputation faster than I imagined. The publicity from Cassandra Sterling and Evelyn has brought a flood of new clients my way."

Genevieve gave a soft, pleased laugh. "Excellent work! Your talent was always meant to be recognized."

But Julian's smile faded, replaced by a worried frown. He hesitated before speaking. "Still... we both know Evelyn didn't plagiarize my work. I used... certain methods to upload that piece to the official site and alter the backend timestamp. It wouldn't hold up under a serious forensic investigation. Are you absolutely certain Evelyn won't find a way to fight back with evidence?"

His concern deepened. "If she manages to counterattack, public opinion will turn against me instantly. I could lose everything I've built."

Genevieve waved a dismissive hand. "Stop worrying. Evelyn won't get that chance. She's already made an enemy of Cassandra. Even Nathanial Reed from our company helped us eliminate any potential evidence she might have had. Soon, Evelyn will be thrown out of Aethelgard Industries. She'll have no future left in the design world."

Hearing her confident tone, Julian felt some of his anxiety ease. "Alright," he said, nodding slowly. "That does make me feel better."

They finished their coffee and soon went their separate ways. Julian stepped out of the cafe.

Suddenly, a luxury car, a model so rare it turned heads, pulled up directly in his path.

Julian's eyes widened in surprise, not just at the abrupt blocking, but at the sheer opulence of the vehicle.

The door opened. A man in a sharp black suit emerged. It was Alexander's assistant.

"Are you the designer Julian Thorne?" the assistant asked, his voice stern and leaving no room for pleasantries.

Startled, Julian answered instinctively. "Yes, that's me. Who are you?"

The assistant cut him off. "We've been looking for you. My boss wants a word."

A cold wave of unease washed over Julian. His eyes darted to the imposing car behind the man.

Whoever owned a car like that was a significant figure in Crestwood.

"May I ask why your boss wants to speak with me?" Julian kept his voice steady, but a tight knot was forming in his stomach.

Had he unknowingly offended someone powerful?

The assistant's lips curled into a cold smirk. "It's regarding Evelyn. My boss has some questions for you."

The name 'Evelyn' sent a jolt of ice down Julian's spine. His expression hardened immediately. "I'm not going anywhere with you," he stated firmly. "You have no right to detain me. Move your car, or I will call the police."

The assistant said nothing. Instead, he calmly reached into his inner pocket and produced a small stack of photographs.

"Julian, we merely wish to have a conversation. If you're so reluctant, perhaps these photographs will persuade you to reconsider."

Julian almost scoffed. As if a few pictures could intimidate him.

Yet, his eyes betrayed him, flicking down to the images held out before him.

The moment he saw them, his breath caught in his throat. His eyes widened in sheer, unadulterated disbelief.

"How... how did you get these?" His voice trembled as he stared, his hands beginning to shake.

He looked up at the assistant, his face drained of all color, pure terror gripping him.