Chapter 764:
If this deal collapsed, so would her future. Any hope of becoming the family successor would vanish. Her father’s disappointment would be inevitable, and the Buckley fortune would almost certainly fall into her younger brother’s hands.
In a heartbeat, every gaze in the hall swung to Paola. The admiration she’d soaked in just moments earlier curdled into open disdain. Her complexion blanched, drained of all color. She balled her hands so tightly that her nails bit into her skin. Her lips parted as if to speak, but panic sealed her throat, leaving her caught in suffocating silence.
Memories of the humiliation at the Wesdown International Piano Competition surged back, swallowing her whole. What excuse could possibly save her now? All her bravado about taking control suddenly felt laughable.
Her mother had sworn that Sweetberry was nothing to fear, that a small-time designer posed no real threat. And now, this was the result.
Plagiarism? Rylie, of all people? Impossible. Her work spoke for itself — the fabrics, the finishing, every detail surpassed anything Laurel had ever shown. She had even unveiled that rare enamel cloth, a masterpiece in its own right, and showcased it as part of a polished four-piece collection.
Paola had never imagined that Sweetberry’s designer had produced an entire series. All she’d ever dug up from the trash was the draft for Spring.
Only now did it hit Laurel — Rylie had played her from the start. She had gone so far as to hire someone to shadow Sweetberry’s workshop, yet the plan still slipped through her fingers. No matter how carefully Laurel schemed, Rylie always seemed to anticipate her moves, waiting in silence for the perfect chance to strike back.
Laurel shot to her feet, struggling to mask the tremor in her voice. “Mr. Bruce, this could very well be a coincidence. And besides, the material Sweetberry used is nothing more than a cheap replacement. They probably couldn’t get their hands on…”
“The premium fabric reserved for Elegance—”
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“Ha.” A dry, cutting laugh escaped Raymond.
“The Sweetberry line,” he said icily, “was crafted from the last batch of Enamel Cloth ever woven by the legendary master tailor himself. It’s already been certified by the Global Designers Association as authentic. And you stand here calling it a knockoff?”
Laurel scrambled to shield her daughter. “Everyone knows the force behind Sweetberry is the wealthy Owen family. Using a different and cherished material doesn’t prove that they didn’t copy our designs.”
Her flimsy excuse earned a wave of snickers from the judges’ table.
“Oh, really?” Kyla’s voice rang out, clear and confident, the microphone now in her hand as if it had always belonged there. “So let’s pretend we did steal Paola’s idea and still released the Four Seasons line first. But tell me, Paola — do you know why the petals on that trench coat were stitched over again with thread?”
Caught off guard, Paola blurted out the answer on instinct. “It was meant to capture the highlights, like sunlight glinting across the petals…”
“What nonsense about highlight points!” Melany shot up from her chair, fists planted firmly on her hips. “That extra stitching wasn’t decoration — it was a special embroidery technique marking the Sweetberry logo! I added it as an anti-counterfeit safeguard, exactly to stop copycats like you. You copied us so thoroughly you even stitched our security logo into your design, and you dare call it sunlight shimmer? You should be drowning in shame!”
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