Chapter 2

The next morning, I made a point to miss breakfast with Alexander.

When I got to the office, I went straight to my personal design studio.

Alexander had set up this space for me when he was trying to get me to stay, a special studio inside the brand's headquarters.

It was where I kept all my design awards and portfolios from over the years.

But when I pushed open the door, I froze.

It was like I'd been struck by lightning.

All the trophies and certificates in the glass display case were gone. Vanished.

The design posters I'd drawn by hand, which used to hang on the walls, had been replaced with cheap, generic portraits.

But what made my blood boil was seeing Victoria sitting in my chair.

My design sketches were spread out in front of her.

A latte sat on the desk beside her. She looked lazy, relaxed, like she owned the place.

When she saw me, a flash of panic crossed her face, but she quickly put on that signature innocent look.

"Evelyn, you're here. Alex said I could work in here for a while. The main office is too noisy, it was distracting me."

Alex.

She called him Alex.

Not the more formal "Alexander" that everyone else used.

That nickname was like a poison dart in my ear.

"Where are my things?"

Victoria blinked, her eyes darting away.

"What things?"

"My trophies. My certificates. My portfolios."

"Oh, those. Alex said he put them in storage for now. He said all those awards would put too much pressure on me."

I stared at her, then turned and walked toward Alexander's office.

He was in a meeting with a few clients. When I pushed the door open, he frowned.

"Alexander, I need to talk to you."

"Wait until my meeting is over."

"Now."

My voice was quiet, but it was cold and hard. The clients took the hint and made excuses to leave, giving us the room.

When it was just the two of us, Alexander loosened his tie, annoyed.

"What is it now? Are you still on about yesterday? You've been in this business for years. Why are you picking on a young girl?"

"My things. In my studio. Why did you take them? Where are they?"

His eyes shifted away, but his voice was still firm.

"Victoria needs a quiet space. And yes, having all those trophies there would be intimidating for her."

"That is my studio."

"This is my brand! I built it from the ground up. I can put whatever I want, wherever I want. It's not your place to question me!"

His words hit me like a slap across the face.

He was right. It was his brand. Alex Fashion.

And I, the so-called "creative partner," was really just a tool he used for new ideas.

We'd gotten married for business reasons. My design talent was the only asset he ever really valued. Even when he gave me shares at the beginning, it was a pathetically small amount.

I had been naive.

I thought that after five years of living together, we had built something real.

Our love and trust had grown beyond a mere business arrangement.

That we weren't just that same couple from an arranged marriage with no feelings for each other.

But now I saw it. In his eyes, I was still just an asset to be managed. My feelings never mattered.

"Alexander, you've changed."

A complicated look flashed in his eyes, but it was quickly covered by stubborn pride.

"I've always been like this. You're just being sensitive because you're faced with a new, talented designer! It's just a studio, she's borrowing it. Why are you making such a big deal out of it?"

Talented?

Is that what he called stealing my work and passing it off as her own to get famous on the runway?

I turned to leave, my mind already made up.

If he could stomp on my dignity so easily, then I didn't need to give him any respect either.