My five-year marriage with Alexander was like a couture gown, ripped to shreds.

"I want Victoria to showcase your collection for the New York Fashion Week spring preview."

My husband Alexander's voice cut through the sketch I was working on.

I stopped drawing. I must have heard him wrong.

"What did you say?"

"Victoria is new. She needs a platform. Your new spring collection is the perfect springboard for her."

"You're a showstopper every year. What's the harm in giving her one shot?" He said it so casually, like he was talking about the weather.

"Besides, the brand needs new blood."

I stared at the man I'd spent five years with. Suddenly, his face looked sharp, unfamiliar.

"Do you have any idea how many nights I've stayed up working on this collection? And you want to give it to some new assistant?"

"Evelyn, don't be so petty. It's just a preview."

His expression turned cold. "I've already decided."

I clenched my fists, a thousand emotions churning inside me.

Fine. If you're going to treat me like this, don't blame me for leaving you.

I never thought that my husband of five years would take the collection I poured my heart and soul into and just hand it over to an assistant who'd been here for two weeks.

When the spotlights came up for the preview, and Victoria glided down the runway in the silk gown I designed, the feeling of betrayal was like a bucket of ice water dumped over my head.

The fashion critics in the audience looked at Victoria with awe. Brand owners nodded again and again.

I even heard someone whisper, "This new talent is one to watch."

"Her design language is so mature and bold, on par with a senior designer who's been in the business for over a decade!"

I sat in the last row, watching a girl seven years younger than me wear the suit I had cut with my own hands.

She lifted her hand gracefully, showing everyone the details that were mine, explaining her design concept.

Alexander sat in the front row, his eyes filled with an unconcealed pride, as if he'd just discovered a diamond in the rough.

At the party after the show, he even raised a toast, calling Victoria the brand's brightest new star, an example for everyone.

My nails dug into my palms under the table, hard enough to draw blood.

When the party was over, I waited for Alexander right outside his private lounge.

He saw me, his face still flushed with excitement, his eyes shining. He had no idea a storm was coming.

"Evelyn, did you see that? Victoria is so talented! Your designs looked perfect on her!"

I took a deep breath. The sweet smell of champagne made me sick.

"Alexander, those are my designs."

He paused for a second, then waved his hand dismissively.

"Oh, that."

"I just thought Victoria needed a chance, so I let her try out your collection."

Try out.

The work of my last three sleepless months was, to him, just a toy for an assistant to "try out."

"Do you know what this collection means to me? It was my entry for this year's Paris Fashion Design Competition!"

A flicker of guilt crossed his face, but it was quickly replaced by that same sense of entitlement.

"You win awards every year anyway. What's the big deal if you let her have this one?"

"Besides, it's just the spring preview. It's not like the actual competition in Paris."

I felt a cold hand clutch my chest. The blood was roaring in my ears.

"Alexander, what am I to you?"

He seemed shaken by my cold tone and looked away. He reached out to put a hand on my shoulder, a weak attempt to comfort me.

"Don't be like this. Victoria is just a kid. She's fresh out of school, so young, no connections. I just wanted to help her out."

I turned and walked away. I couldn't stand to hear another word. It felt like death by a thousand cuts.

I heard him call my name behind me, but I didn't look back.

I didn't even slow down.

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.

What made the blood rush to my head was seeing Victoria sitting in my personal design 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.

Not even a formal "Mr. Alexander."

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 brand, this company, I, Alexander, built it! 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 company. 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. Love and trust that went beyond business.

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.

For the next few days, Alexander and I were in a cold war.

I left for work before he woke up and came home after he was asleep, cutting our lives into two separate worlds.

But Victoria just had to come looking for trouble.

She knocked on the door of my temporary office, that practiced, sincere-looking smile on her face.

"Evelyn, I know you have the wrong idea about me, but I really just want to learn."

I didn't look up from the design software on my computer.

"Learning doesn't mean stealing someone's workspace and their work."

She sat down across from me, her tone sickeningly familiar.

"Actually, I've always admired your designs. It's an honor to work with you."

"If you really admired me, you wouldn't have worn my designs and called them your own idea."

Victoria's face stiffened for a second before she put on a pitiful, wounded look.

"Evelyn, you've misunderstood."

"Alex said it was a team effort from the company. He just wanted me to go on stage to get some practice presenting in public. He said he wants me to be confident and poised, like I've rehearsed it a thousand times, for when I finally debut my own work."

I finally looked up, my gaze like a scalpel, dissecting her.

The girl was beautiful, no doubt. Blonde hair, blue eyes, skin as pale as cream.

The way her eyes moved when she talked could make any man want to protect her.

But underneath those seemingly innocent eyes, I saw shrewd calculation and a pride she couldn't hide.

"Victoria, how old are you?"

"Twenty-three."

"Then you should know what honesty is."

Her smile froze.

"I... I don't understand what you mean."

"I mean, that collection, from the first sketch to the last button, was made by me, and me alone."

"You knew that, but you still stood under the spotlight and soaked up all the praise that came with it. That's called being shameless."

Victoria's face flushed red, but she quickly composed herself.

"Evelyn, that's a very hurtful thing to say. I was just following Alex's instructions."

With that, she ran out of my office with tears in her eyes, like a frightened deer.

I knew this was just the start of her little show.

And sure enough, that afternoon, Alexander stormed in, radiating anger.

"Evelyn, what was that about? Why would you talk to Victoria like that?"

I put down my pencil and looked at him calmly.

"What did I say?"

"You called her shameless! You accused her of stealing your designs! She's just a girl, fresh out of college. How is she supposed to handle that kind of accusation?"

I couldn't help but laugh, but the sound was cold and sharp.

"She was hurt? What about me? Who cares about my feelings?"

He was speechless for a moment, caught off guard by my question.

"You're a grown woman. You've won so many awards, you should be more gracious. Besides, Victoria didn't mean any harm."

"No harm? Then why did she tell everyone on stage that it was her design concept?"

"She was just... nervous. She misspoke. It was a slip of the tongue!"

I was starting to realize that no matter what I said, he would always find the perfect excuse for Victoria.

This blind favoritism made me feel a chill I had never felt before.

"Alexander, are you in love with her?"

The words slipped out like a bullet, piercing both of us.

Alexander's face went dark with anger and shame.

"What are you talking about? She's just my assistant! What's wrong with a boss sticking up for his assistant?!"

"What kind of assistant needs you to defend her like this?"

"What kind of assistant gets to take over the lead designer's studio? What kind of assistant can steal her boss's wife's designs and show them off as her own?"

Alexander's jaw was tight, his lips a thin line.

Finally, he just spat out, "Evelyn, you're being irrational!"

Then he turned and left, as if he were escaping a judgment.