Author’s POV
Serena watched her phone screen with intense satisfaction as the notification popped up.
WhisperStream had just confirmed that their plan was unfolding exactly as intended.
Over the past week, she and Maya had been meticulously building a case against Ivy—gathering evidence of her plagiarism and quietly coordinating with the designers she had stolen from.
"Six designers on board now," Serena said, glancing toward Maya, who was sprawled across the living room sofa, casually sketching new ideas.
"WhisperStream really delivered. These industry folks were surprisingly eager to help once they realized they could remain anonymous."
Maya snorted, not bothering to look up. "Not surprising at all. Everyone knows Ivy’s a fraud—they just didn’t want to risk Blackwood’s wrath. Anonymity is a beautiful thing."
Serena nodded, scrolling through the neatly organized folders of evidence.
There were side-by-side comparisons of the original designs and Ivy’s so-called ‘inspirations,’ timestamps proving the originals had existed long before hers, and statements from artisans who had worked on both versions and were finally ready to speak out.
It was damning. Precise. Undeniable.
"Think she’s seen it yet?" Maya asked, finally glancing up.
Serena’s lips curved into a slow, satisfied smile. "Should be hitting her inbox right... about... now."
She could almost picture Ivy’s face as the truth began to unravel. 𝒻𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝘯𝘰𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮
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Ivy’s scream echoed through her luxury apartment as dozens of images loaded on her phone screen.
Side-by-side comparisons, original sketches, production timelines—all clearly showing she’d stolen every single design she claimed as her own.
"What the FUCK is this?" she shrieked, hurling her phone across the room. It bounced off an expensive throw pillow and landed on the carpet.
Her assistant winced, taking an instinctive step backward.
"Someone’s clearly gathered evidence of your..." he hesitated, searching for a diplomatic word, "inspirations."
"Don’t just stand there!" Ivy snapped, pacing frantically. "Find out who sent this! Trace the email! Do something useful for once!"
The assistant retrieved her phone, scrolling through the damning evidence with growing alarm. "This is... extensive. Maybe we should inform Mr. Blackwood—"
"ARE YOU INSANE?" Ivy whirled on him, face contorted with rage. "Tell Ryan I’ve been stealing designs? You complete idiot! I need to maintain my image as a creative genius! He can’t know about any of this!"
The assistant pressed his lips together, wisely choosing silence as Ivy continued her tirade.
"All this time crafting the perfect persona, getting closer to Ryan... I will NOT let some anonymous whistleblower destroy everything I’ve worked for!"
Her phone dinged with a new message. The color drained from her face as she read:
"1,000,000 transferred to the offshore account below within 48 hours, or these documents go public. Your career and relationship with Ryan Blackwood ends immediately."
Followed by banking details.
"One million dollars?" she whispered, collapsing onto her couch. "Where am I supposed to get that kind of money?"
Her assistant remained silent, watching her internal struggle play out.
She’d been cornered masterfully. If Ryan discovered her fraud, any chance of winning his affection would evaporate instantly.
The next day, I woke to confirmation that Ivy had transferred the full amount.
Six hundred thousand dollars had been deposited into our business account—enough to cover production costs for our first collection and a strategic marketing campaign.
"You’re not feeling guilty, are you?" Maya asked when she noticed me staring at the account balance.
I looked up, surprised by the question. "Guilty? For making her pay for stealing other’s work? Not even slightly."
"Good," she nodded approvingly. "Because we’re just getting started. Next phase is the launch, and trust me, when your collection drops alongside hers..."
"Everyone will see her fall," I finished, a renewed fire burning in my chest. "And they’ll know I’m the one who brought her down."
Maya grinned as she pulled out her tablet and tilted it toward me, showing off the finalized marketing materials.
"Blogs are already picking up the scent," she said proudly. "Lazuli is officially generating buzz—exactly on schedule."
I leaned in, letting my eyes scan the sleek visuals and teaser posts she’d put together.
The campaign was subtle but effective, offering just enough intrigue to spark curiosity without revealing too much of our overall strategy.
Everything—from the color palette to the tagline—was deliberate. Elegant. Disruptive in all the right ways.
"Now, are you ready to become the talk of the design world?"Maya asked with a grin.
I closed the tablet, feeling the weight of years of suppression and self-doubt finally lifting from my shoulders. "I’ve been ready my whole life."
As I returned to my workstation to finalize the last details of my collection, I couldn’t help thinking about Ryan’s reaction when he discovered the truth. Would he connect the dots back to me? Would he finally recognize what he’d dismissed for so long?
Part of me hoped he would. The other part—the stronger, newer part of me—no longer cared what Ryan Blackwood thought at all.

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