Revenge amnesia upgraded to his brother novel Chapter 22

Chapter 22

“She’s nothing but a fraud!” the accusation cut sharply through the tense air as I stood firmly in the center of the runway, surrounded by a sea of skeptical gazes. Amid the murmurs and doubtful eyes, I caught sight of Camille’s self-satisfied smirk, as if she already believed she had won.

“Plagiarism? Let’s examine my design more closely,” I challenged, signaling to Sophie who was waiting discreetly at the side of the stage.

In the very next moment, the large screen behind me came alive with a breathtaking 3D model of the lingerie piece, rotating slowly to reveal every curve and contour in vivid detail. The audience’s attention was immediately captured by the smooth, elegant lines displayed in full view.

As the model continued to turn, the layers of the design were peeled back one by one, until finally, the hidden support structure was revealed in all its complexity.

“This suspended support system is a patented innovation I filed just two weeks ago,” I explained, my voice steady but filled with conviction. “It’s not merely for aesthetics—it provides genuine comfort and support, liberating women’s bodies in a way traditional designs never have.”

I paused briefly, then directed everyone’s gaze toward the so-called plagiarized sketch Camille had accused me of copying.

“That sketch? It’s nothing more than a discarded basic draft from my studio archives—purely superficial, lacking any real structural foundation,” I stated firmly.

Turning back to Camille, I couldn’t help but add, “Seems like someone mistook garbage for gold without bothering to take a closer look.”

The flash of cameras intensified, zooming in on the intricate patent diagram before swinging to capture Camille’s increasingly strained expression.

Sophie nodded excitedly from the side, ready to make her exit, but I called out, “Wait!”

Camille didn’t hesitate. She stepped forward, pointing accusingly at Irina, who was modeling the piece on stage. “Even if you designed it, what’s the point? Look closely, everyone—there are no straps on her shoulders. This thing could slip off at any moment.”

The cameras instantly honed in on Irina’s bare shoulders and back. Apart from the delicate lace wings, nothing seemed to hold the lingerie in place.

“A bra without straps? Norah, are you out of your mind? Or do you think everyone here is blind?” Camille sneered cruelly. “The second she moves, this ridiculous garment will fall right to the floor.”

Her words struck a chord with the crowd’s common sense, and whispers began to ripple through the audience. Doubt clouded their eyes as they stared at Irina’s outfit, questioning its practicality.

Suddenly, a commanding voice echoed from the front row, cutting through the growing unrest.

“Ignorance is no excuse for standing here and spouting nonsense.”

I remained on stage, catching Madame Clémentine’s approving nod, pride shining in her eyes like a silent benediction.

In that instant, a familiar sting pricked my nose—I knew my teacher had forgiven me.

Backstage, Sophie and the team swirled around me, champagne spraying in celebration, cheers of “Amazing!” and “We did it!” filling the air with joyous energy.

Just then, my phone lit up on the table, notifications flashing rapidly across the screen.

I smiled softly and reached for it.

Unlocking the screen, one headline from a financial news app caught my eye immediately:

[Breaking News: Constantine Group announces historic strategic partnership with Italian Medici Group to launch new luxury lingerie brand “Elysian Dream.” The brand will be led by Damian Constantine, heir to the Constantine family, with its debut planned for Paris Fashion Week next year.]

The news felt like the final seal on the day’s triumph, a thrilling promise of what was yet to come.