Chapter 7 The Design she stole

Amelia's POV

By ten in the morning, I had already reviewed two collections, approved the final seating arrangement, and rejected a last-minute change to the showcase schedule.

With only three days left, I could not afford mistakes.

Every designer we selected would represent Aurelia House. This showcase would decide if we were taken seriously in New York.

I was reviewing the latest applications when someone knocked.

"Come in."

Emily entered with a folder and a tablet. She placed both on my desk and sat opposite me.

"The review team finished the first batch," she said. "Fourteen designers shortlisted. Their portfolios are ready for your final approval."

"Any problems?"

"Nothing serious. Two need further assessment. The rest meet our standard."

We started going through them. I approved some, left comments on others, and flagged one collection that needed a closer look.

Then Emily opened the next portfolio.

The name at the top made my hand freeze.

Roselle Smith.

I already knew she applied. I told myself I would treat her like every other designer. No special treatment, positive or negative.

"She's presenting a jewelry collection," Emily explained. "The review team loves this necklace. They want it in the featured presentation."

She enlarged the photo.

A blue gemstone sat at the center, surrounded by small diamonds. Curved white gold extended on both sides, with a distinctive adjustable clasp that allowed it to sit at different lengths.

My fingers tightened around the desk.

I knew that necklace.

Years ago, I spent weeks on that design. I adjusted the curves, changed the stone arrangement, redrew the clasp three times until every detail was perfect.

That design was in my design book. The same book I left behind when I walked out of the Smith residence with nothing but my personal things and the pendant from my biological family.

I looked at the submission date, then back at the photo.

Roselle didn't create this.

She took my design and submitted it as her own.

"Amelia?" Emily asked. "What's wrong?"

I turned the tablet toward her.

"That necklace is mine."

She frowned. "Yours? Are you sure?"

"I designed it years ago. The original sketch was in the book I left at the Smith house."

Emily's expression hardened instantly.

"She took your book and used your work for this competition?"

"I believe so."

"Then we should disqualify her immediately." She reached for the tablet. "I'll tell the review team to withdraw her application."

"Wait."

She stared at me. "Why? She stole your design! She shouldn't be allowed to compete!"

"I agree. But if we accuse her now without evidence, she will deny everything."

Emily was angry. I understood. She watched me rebuild my life from nothing. She knew what designing meant to me.

But I would not make an emotional mistake.

"First, we confirm what she submitted and when," I said calmly. "Then we compare it with my original record."

Emily blinked. "You have a record?"

"Yes. I registered it."

I opened my laptop and logged into my private archive, where I kept records of my original works.

I had registered several pieces years ago, saving the files and confirmation documents in case I ever needed to prove when my work was created.

I found it.

The record was there. Original design image, submission date, and official confirmation.

I downloaded it and placed it beside Roselle's portfolio photo.

The similarities were undeniable.

The placement of the blue gemstone. The arrangement of the small diamonds. The curve of the white-gold frame. Even the tiny detail near the clasp that I changed after five failed sketches — it was all there.

I checked the dates.

My registration was years before her submission.

"This is what we needed," I said.

Emily leaned closer. "So she submitted a design that was already registered under your name?"

"Exactly. This gives us a dated record. We will preserve the original file and confirmation, then have it verified before the showcase."

"Can we use it to expose her?"

"It gives us a strong starting point. We will make sure everything is verified and documented properly before making it public."

I was not going to rely on memory. The original file and registration would speak for itself. Her application would speak for her.

Together, they would destroy her lie.

Emily sat back, her anger slowly turning into satisfaction.

"I still think we should remove her now."

I looked at Roselle's photo again, and a small, cold smile crossed my face.

"No. Let her stay."

"Amelia!"

"She wants to be recognized for this design," I said, my voice calm. "She wants judges to praise her. Guests to admire her. Everyone to believe she's talented enough to be among the best."

I looked at Emily.

"Let her shine. Let her enjoy it."

Emily finally understood. "You want her to embarrass herself on stage?"

"I want her to stand on that stage, confident, proud, believing she has won. I want everyone clapping for her."

I paused.

"And then I want the lights to go out on her."

Silence filled the office.

"What do you want me to do?" Emily asked.

"Save a complete copy of her submission. Portfolio image, date received, everything. Keep the original registration confirmation and design file separately. Secure copies. And arrange for verification before the event."

"I'll take care of it."

"Don't contact Roselle. Don't tell the review team. Not yet. I don't want her getting a warning."

"She won't hear anything from me."

After she left, I returned to the registration record.

I hadn't thought about that design in years. Back then, I was just trying to improve my skills. I never imagined someone from the Smith family would one day steal it.

Leaving my design book behind was an oversight. I walked away with only what I could carry, believing starting over was more important than going back for things I lost.

I didn't expect Roselle to find it, let alone claim it as hers.

But I couldn't change the past. I could only decide what to do next.

I saved the registration documents and returned to the showcase schedule. There were still designers to review and arrangements to finalize. Roselle's application would not stop me.

If anything, it gave me another reason to make sure the showcase was perfect.

Three days later, Roselle would stand before an audience of designers, industry professionals, and invited guests. She would present her collection, just like the other shortlisted designers.

But if she intended to claim my work, she would have to answer for it.

My phone buzzed.

Emily: I've saved all files and arranged verification. Also preserved her original submission so no one can replace the image later.

I replied: Keep everything confidential. No warnings, no confrontation before the showcase.

Her reply came immediately: Everything is safe. Records will be ready.

I put my phone down and looked once more at the date on Roselle's application.

Three days remained before the showcase.

Enjoy the confidence you have built on my work, Roselle Smith.

During the showcase, I will give you a surprise you will never forget