Ever since my name was cleared of plagiarism, my work has been admired by many. As a result, I get more and more work, and I become even busier.Amanda is also thrilled and praises me for my work. Her words fill me with a renewed sense of confidence and purpose, reassuring me that my talent is recognized and valued within the company. She shares the news of the increasing number of orders the company is receiving.Grateful for her guidance and encouragement, I express my appreciation for the opportunities that have come my way. I return to my workstation with a renewed sense of purpose and a spring in my step. I dive back into my work, inspired by the belief that my contributions make a difference.After a busy day, I decided to go to my parent's place and share the good news with them. My parents welcome me warmly.The soft glow of the table lamp casts a gentle light, illuminating the room and creating a serene ambiance. The air is filled with a symphony of cheerful chatter, intermin
As our lips unexpectedly meet, a wave of shock courses through me. I instinctively try to pull away, my hands pushing against his chest, desperate to create distance between us. The taste of his lips lingers on mine, a bittersweet reminder of the deep connection we once shared.But he refuses to release me, his arms enveloping me tightly, preventing any chance of escape. The strength in his embrace sends conflicting sensations coursing through me.I can feel the warmth of his body pressed against mine, a tangible reminder of the intimate history we once shared.As I struggle against his hold, his grip tightens, his determination evident in every muscle. His eyes meet mine; a mixture of desire and vulnerability is reflected within them. It becomes clear that he is not willing to let go, despite the complications between us.Caught between conflicting emotions, I search for the strength to speak, to remind him of the boundaries and the commitments he has made. But as I open my mouth, th
I want to forget the mistake I made last night and absorb myself in work. The room is adorned with colorful fabrics, sketches, and mannequins draped in exquisite garments.The walls are adorned with mood boards and sketches, reflecting the diverse inspirations for my collection. The vibrant colors and intricate details of the designs catch my eye, showcasing my unique creative vision.I have been chosen as the lead designer for a major fashion show in Paris, and I pour all my energy into my work.I immerse myself in my work, surrounded by a team of passionate individuals who share my dedication and drive. The room buzzes with activity as sketches come to life, fabrics are meticulously cut and sewn, and fittings take place, ensuring the perfect fit and silhouette for each garment.As the lead designer, I oversee the entire process, offering guidance and inspiration to my team. I lose myself in the rhythm of the work, my mind completely consumed by the art of fashion. Time seems to fly
I find myself in a bustling backstage area, filled with electric energy as the first round of the prestigious fashion competition is about to commence. The room is abuzz with anticipation and excitement, mingled with nervous tension that hangs in the air.There is a sea of talented designers all around me, each of whom exudes confidence and displays their original works.As I look around, I see designers from various countries with unique styles and creative flair. 100 designers are participating, and only 10 will be selected for the next round. I am so nervous.All the designers look very confident in their work. With their teams, they are meticulously fitting their designs on the models, ensuring every detail is perfect.The room is a vibrant tapestry of colors, textures, and fashion-forward individuals, all vying for their chance to shine at this prestigious event.My model stands before me, radiant in the dress I have designed. Her confidence and reassurance provide a comforting p
I and George come to a sunflower farm on the outskirts of Paris, and a breathtaking sight unfolds before our eyes.A golden carpet of vibrant yellow stretches as far as the eye can see, capturing the essence of summer's warmth and radiance. The air is filled with the sweet fragrance of sunflowers, a delicate scent that mingles with the gentle breeze, creating an intoxicating symphony for the senses.The sunflowers stand tall and proud, their vibrant yellow petals reaching for the sky as if basking in the sunlight. Their mesmerizing beauty creates a picturesque landscape, casting a golden glow over the surrounding fields. Each sunflower, with its intricate details and unique personality, seems to exude a sense of joy and liveliness.The gentle rustling of leaves accompanies our footsteps, harmonizing with the soft hum of bees and other pollinators that are drawn to the nectar-rich blooms. The air feels alive, buzzing with the energy of nature at work.The sheer vastness of the sunflowe
I come back to my room and start drawing with the imagination overflowing in my mind. I just want to forget everything. reminding myself never to become entangled with Megan and George. Whatever happened at the sunflower field was just a beautiful imagination, and I shouldn’t dwell on it.I put my mind and soul into my design. I have this opportunity to shine and earn a name in the field of fashion. I cannot blow up the opportunity.With each stroke of my pen, the imaginative world within my mind takes shape on paper, bringing to life the visions and ideas that reside within me.As I immerse myself in the creative process, a renewed sense of determination and focus envelops me. The swirl of emotions that once threatened to consume me is channeled into the intricate details of my designs. The lines and curves on the page reflect the resilience and passion within my heart.Ding-Dong…I drop the pen and go to open the door. My eyes narrow in annoyance as I see Megan standing at the doors
The other designers mock me and accuse me of stealing someone else’s design. The sound of laughter, dripping with disdain, echoes in my ears, fueling my anger and frustration."Do you really think you can steal someone else’s creation and win the competition?" One of them sneers.Another designer chimes in, "No, no... She must be thinking that she will frame Julia and tarnish her image. But her plan backfires on her."Laughter erupts in the room, each mocking remark piercing through my defenses. Anger surges within me, and I can feel the heat rising to my face."I haven't stolen anyone's design!" I retort, my voice filled with defiance. "This is my creation. It's so sad that a well-known designer like Julia has no confidence in her own creations.""Oh, really? Are you accusing Julia now?"The room erupts in a cacophony of disbelief and counter-accusations. The other designers rally around Julia, defending her honor and dismissing my claims."Relax, guys..." Julia's voice cuts through
The ambulance arrives in no time. As the paramedics rush me into the waiting ambulance, the urgent sirens wail, piercing through the air.Their calm demeanor provides a sense of assurance. The sound of their steady voices and the gentle touch of their hands offer a fleeting moment of comfort.I grasp onto the hand of one of the paramedics; my grip is tight and desperate as if holding onto a lifeline. My tear-filled eyes meet his."Please save my child, please..." I beseech, my voice trembling with anguish.In response, the paramedic's hand gently rests on the back of mine, providing a grounding touch. His eyes convey a mixture of empathy and determination. With a calm yet reassuring tone, he soothes my fears, attempting to calm the storm of emotions raging within me."Calm down... Everything will be fine. We will do our best to save your baby," he assures me, his words like a gentle balm to my frayed nerves.The paramedics attend to me with the utmost care. They move swiftly, administ
A few months later…The narrator’s POV…The sun bathed the elegant garden in a soft, golden glow as George and Vivian stood beneath a pristine white gazebo, surrounded by a sea of vibrant flowers.The venue for their wedding was nothing short of breathtaking, with its lavish decorations and stunning floral arrangements that seemed to burst with color and life. It was as if the very earth itself was celebrating their union.Vivian, radiant in her ivory lace wedding gown, held a bouquet of exquisite roses in various shades of pink and white, their delicate fragrance filling the air. George, in his dashing black tuxedo, looked every bit the handsome groom, a broad smile gracing his lips.The gazebo was adorned with billowing white fabric, which fluttered gently in the warm breeze. Crystal chandeliers hung from above, casting a soft, enchanting glow over the entire scene. The aisle was strewn with rose petals, creating a path of delicate beauty for Vivian to walk down.As Vivian took her
In the meantime, Evan and Barbe enter. Their faces light up with a grin when they see me awake."Mommy!" The voices that reach my ears are filled with excitement and pure delight. They rush over to me.With open arms, I welcome them eagerly. The warmth of their tiny bodies envelops me, and tears of joy stream down my cheeks. Their presence is a balm to my soul, soothing away the lingering echoes of fear and pain. I hold them close, cherishing every moment of their embrace."My babies," I murmur, my voice quivering with emotion. "Mommy is here. Mommy is fine."Evan's eyes glisten with unshed tears as he speaks, his voice trembling with a mixture of relief and lingering anxiety. "You scared us," he admits, his emotions raw and unfiltered. "Barbe has been crying a lot."I brush away their tears, feeling a lump form in my throat. "Shhh, my darlings. Mommy is fine. Look, I'm smiling. Give me your precious smiles."Their grins are like radiant sunshine, and I revel in the warmth of their lo
The guards had been looking for the man who sprayed the powder on the wedding gowns. They finally caught him and interrogated him, and he revealed that Michael had paid him to do that to frame me.He confessed everything to the police.I ordered the PR department to make a statement. Finally, the crisis in the company has been resolved, but Vivian is still unconscious.Thirty-six long hours have elapsed, and her continued unconsciousness gnaws at my very core. I sit by her bedside, my hand clutching hers as if it could coax her back to consciousness. I long for her to awaken, to see those beautiful eyes once again, to hear her voice, and to feel her presence fill the room.Evan and Barbe are worried as well. Tears stain their young faces as they grapple with the fear that their mother may never awaken. It breaks my heart to see them in such despair, and I pull them close, enveloping them in a desperate attempt to offer solace."Why is she not waking up?" Barbe's voice trembles as she
On the way, I receive a video message on my phone from the chief security officer. It is the video recorded on the pendant.As the video message unfolds on my phone's screen, I am drawn into a vortex of shocking revelations. The images and sounds contained within this digital tape serve as a bitter pill to swallow, awakening me to the harsh truth that I've been living a carefully crafted lie for years.My eyes widen in disbelief. The guilt and regret that surge within me is like a turbulent sea, threatening to overwhelm my senses.Vivian, the woman who has always been there for me and who has loved me unconditionally, emerges as the true heroine of that fateful kidnapping incident.I thought it was Megan who saved me from the kidnappers back then, but it was Vivian. Megan twisted the facts and acted as if she risked her life to save me. In reality, she ran away, leaving me in danger while Vivian fought back with the goons. She even partially lost her memory.Tears well up in my eyes,
My body twists and jerks in an attempt to evade the blows, but her strikes find their mark, the impact sending shockwaves of agony through me.Blood drips down my face. I cry out in pain and fear. Each blow feels like a stab of darkness, threatening to extinguish any hope of survival.Megan has gone crazy. She won’t stop until she kills me. But I don’t want to die, not like this, until I punish her. I need to tell George everything."George…" My voice is a raw scream of pain as I plead for George, hoping that somehow my cry will reach him and that he will come to my rescue.Everything is turning black. My eyes are getting closed. I feel a sense of lightness as if I am flying."Vivian…" His voice echoes in my ears, a lifeline that seems just out of reach. Is he truly here, or is he a mirage born from my desperation?The room blurs and the edges of my vision grow hazy as if reality is slipping through my fingers. My body is weakening with every passing minute. I feel like I am leaving t
All the scenes are playing as a recording in front of my eyes. I feel like I am reliving the terror of the past.The goons take us to an abandoned house on the hilltop. They throw us on the cold floor and close the door. The room we're trapped in feels like a desolate prison, cold and damp. The muffled sounds of the outside world barely penetrate the thick walls.George is still unconscious. His forehead is bleeding. I'm driven by a fierce determination to protect him. I tear my dress with my teeth and use the fabric as an impromptu bandage to staunch the bleeding. His vulnerability, lying there unconscious, tugs at my heartstrings.I glance around the room, my eyes landing on the meager comforts of a mattress and a blanket. Gently, I drag George over to the mattress, huddling close to him and pulling the blanket around us, seeking whatever warmth and reassurance it can provide.As the night wears on, George's condition worsens. His fever rises, and he trembles in his fitful sleep.In
Her eyes blazed with a mad intensity, her pupils dilating as she spoke. "I loved him since I was a child," she said, her voice low and even. "I always wanted to be around him, play with him, and marry him. But he liked to play with you. I hated you for grabbing his attention."Megan's confession is both unsettling and tragic. Her childhood infatuation with George has festered into a twisted obsession, and her jealousy of my connection with him has fueled her hatred. Her admission paints a grim picture of her psyche, revealing the depths of her delusion.I feel a cold dread creeping up my spine as she continues to speak. Her words are laced with venom, her anger and resentment palpable.Why is she saying such things? Has she mistaken me for someone else?I have no recollection of playing with George. George and I had never met before high school. I narrow my eyes, trying to process her words.I struggle again, trying to break free from her grasp. But Megan is too strong, her hold too s
As my consciousness gradually returns, the world around me materializes in fragments. The grimy, dilapidated surroundings of the room come into focus, casting an eerie atmosphere that matches the unsettling situation I'm in. Cobwebs cling to corners; shadows dance on the walls of my vision.My head feels heavy, and my ears still ring from the blow I received. I blink, trying to clear my vision, and my heart skips a beat when I realize I'm bound to a chair.The voices, hushed but audible, pierce through the haze in my mind. My senses sharpen, and I strain to listen, piecing together the conversation unfolding before me."I told you to stay away from here. Why did you come here?"I squint as I find this voice familiar. It’s Michael’s voice. Who is he talking with?"Ugh…" I groan and try to free my hands from the ropes that are restraining me.A second voice joins the conversation, and my heart sinks as I recognize it.Megan.The pieces fall into place, and I'm struck by the cruel revela
A few days later…Megan visits me when Vivian is away. I can't help but feel a wave of annoyance wash over me.She is so shameless. She has the nerve to show up in front of me again."George, oh, my God. Look at you, how badly you have been injured." She comes closer to me with tears in her eyes.I used to feel sad whenever I saw her cry. But now I can see through her malicious nature hidden beneath this pitiful exterior. Megan is pretentious. Her tears and sweet words can’t change my perception of her anymore. I now know how cunning she is.She tries to reach out and touch my face, but I swat her hand away instinctively. I don't want her touching me; doesn't she understand that? I glare at her, my eyes flashing with warning."I have completely lost my patience with you, Megan," I growl, my voice low and menacing. "Stop trying to get closer to me. Get lost."She gives me a hurt look as if she is the one who has been wronged. "How could you say such a thing to me?" she asks, her voice