Chapter 39 The plagiarism

I take the draft from the reporter's outstretched hand, my fingers trembling as I clutch the paper. My eyes lock onto the design, the intricate details that I poured my heart into, but something catches my attention—a signature, not my own.

My brows furrow in confusion, and my mind races to comprehend the revelation before me.

"Misha," I whisper, tracing the name with my fingertip.

Who is Misha? Why is her signature on my design?

Doubt and disbelief flood my thoughts, intertwining with a deep sense of unease.

How could this be?

I created the design of this wedding gown; every stitch and every embellishment were born from my own imagination. This accusation feels like an assault on my integrity, a betrayal of my artistic vision.

The reporters keep asking me questions, eyes fixed upon me, awaiting my response.

I can feel the weight of their expectations pressing down on me; the air is heavy with anticipation. The spotlight that once illuminated my success now casts a harsh glare, exposi