Chapter 6

Someone online had exposed an alleged plagiarism incident.

And the protagonists of the scandal were Cameron and me—claiming that I had stolen his jewelry design.

Netizens compared our works side by side—from the concept to craftsmanship, details, and creative vision—declaring everything identical.

The post had somehow climbed into the top 10 trending topics, and the comments were a tsunami of hatred directed at me.

I read in silence while my friends grew more anxious.

“This is obviously a setup! This was his high school work!”

“Sam explained his design to us before! This necklace was for his sister-in-law, and the engraving of the little boy represents him!”

“Exactly! Clearly Cameron is the one who plagiarized. Where did he even come from?”

I kept calm in my silence. Without caring about the exhibition, I dropped everything and rushed home, wanting to retrieve my original sketches to prove my innocence.

On the way, my thoughts tangled into knots. Countless possibilities flashed through my mind, and I couldn’t help recalling why I had created that design in the first place.

I had been 18 that year. I confessed to Zoey for the first time and was rejected. She became colder toward me afterward.

Around that time, the city held a jewelry design competition, so I began creating the piece, wanting to prove that I had matured.

The moment I finished the sketch, I excitedly ran to show Zoey.

She was working overtime and didn’t notice me.

She focused intently on her computer, and I stood there staring, mesmerized. I couldn’t help moving closer, wanting her opinion on my work.

But my approach startled her. She thought I was going to kiss her again, and her reaction made me stop dead.

After I explained, she was still upset. She confiscated my sketch and told me to focus on my studies.

The matter ended unresolved. I missed the competition but still created the necklace and kept it hidden away.

The hollow carving cast the shadow of a little boy bravely chasing love when illuminated. It represented my determination toward Zoey.

But now that I had let go of her and urgently needed money, I brought the necklace to the exhibition.

I never expected it would become the weapon used to accuse me of plagiarism—striking straight through my heart.

When I arrived home, I searched every room carefully but found nothing.

Panic slowly rose within me.

I clearly remembered that Zoey had kept my sketch here. Had I missed some place?

Just then, my phone buzzed.

Several friends had all sent me the same livestream link.

Seeing the title “Press Conference—Plagiarism Scandal,” a bad feeling stirred in me, and I tapped it open.

On screen appeared Cameron, speaking to the reporters with righteous confidence. From concept to craftsmanship, he explained everything with certainty.

And in his hand was my sketch.

“This is my original sketch. I’ve known Sam for a long time. I didn’t expect him to do something like this. But he’s still young—I don’t blame him.”

My mind erupted like thunder, and I collapsed to the ground.

The evidence was overwhelming. Public opinion instantly turned against me, and furious netizens shredded me to pieces.

Insults flooded in like a landslide, reaching over a hundred thousand comments in no time.

The livestream continued.

At the end of the conference, Zoey appeared. As the CEO of the Shaw Group, she expressed full support for Cameron and openly acknowledged their relationship.

In front of the cameras, the two left hand-in-hand and were photographed kissing inside a sports car.

Rumors of their romance had existed for a while, and now that they had made it official, the topic exploded again. CP fans swarmed the comment section.

“The cold female CEO and the heir of an affluent family, they’re a perfect match! This is so sweet!”

“They’re this sweet even in public—imagine what they’re like in private!”

“But I heard Zoey is the sister-in-law of that plagiarist. Even under these circumstances, she still supported Cameron without hesitation. Doesn’t that already say enough?”

The topic kept rising. Soon, netizens dug up my connection with Zoey—and even my background.

I stared blankly at the comments. Abusive messages filled the entire screen.

People called me a delinquent who fought since childhood, someone who bullied classmates using Zoey’s influence, someone who had no talent and relied on plagiarism...

And even worse—insults.

One comment said I was a parasite clinging to Zoey, a pervert who secretly loved his sister-in-law, and even cursed my parents—saying I deserved to lose my family, deserved to live as an orphan...

At that moment, my emotions burst like a breached dam, and I trembled uncontrollably.

My heart felt torn apart, tears streamed down my face, and yet the suffocating despair only grew, trapping me completely.

In desperation, I dialed Zoey’s number.