“Respect isn’t meant to be a mask for shame,” I said coolly.

“If you want to pave the way for someone already condemned by the industry, then do it openly with the Miller Family’s resources—not under the guise of ‘doing it for my own good,’ forcing her into my team.”

No sooner had my words fallen than the sound of hesitant footsteps came from the doorway.

A timid figure peeked in.

It was Chloe Davis.

She wore a plain white blouse, head bowed, clutching the contract tightly in her hands. Her eyes flickered nervously.

“Sophia… I—I didn’t mean anything else. I just want a fresh start.

I know what happened back then hurt you, but I was young and foolish. It was a mistake…”

I let out a sharp, humorless laugh.

“A mistake? You call stealing my work, submitting it to a competition, and pretending it was flawless—just a mistake?

Chloe, the moment you were expelled from the architectural world, you should have understood: there was no path back.”

Her lips trembled, but no words came. Tears welled in her eyes, making her look pitiful.

Ethan immediately stepped forward, shielding her behind him, his tone laced with defense.

“Sophia, that’s enough! Chloe did wrong, yes—but she has already paid the price. Why must you keep hounding her?”

I tilted my chin upward, my gaze cold and sharp.

“Paid the price? With your family’s protection, she’s standing here, shedding tears like some delicate flower—this is what you call a price?

Ethan, let me remind you: I am your fiancée. Not her.”

The atmosphere grew tense.

Ethan’s eyes flicked between me and Chloe, irritation spreading across his brow.

“Sophia, this sharpness of yours only makes the world think you’re petty.

You’re a world-renowned architect. Shouldn’t you be gracious, above such trivial matters?”

I smiled faintly, though the chill in it was unmistakable.

“Trivial matters?

My hard-earned work being stolen—trivial?

My team being infiltrated by an outsider at your whim—trivial?

Ethan, when you urge me to be ‘gracious,’ do you mean you want me to be soft-hearted—or to submit?”

His face darkened, jaw tight.

“Sophia, don’t push me.”

I met his fierce gaze, each word deliberate.

“It’s not me pushing you. It’s you pushing me.”

As the standoff sharpened, Chloe suddenly collapsed to her knees with a thud.

Her shoulders shook as she sobbed, voice broken.

“Sophia, it’s me who wronged you. But I truly have nowhere else to go…

Years ago, my parents gave up everything to save Mr. Miller. On their deathbeds, their only wish was that I wouldn’t starve.”

“If you hate someone, hate me. Don’t take it out on Ethan…”

Her tears spattered against the cold marble floor, a portrait of helplessness.

Ethan’s eyes softened with pity as he bent quickly to lift her up.

“Sophia Carter!”

He snapped his head up, fury flashing in his voice, laced with accusation.

“How can you be so cold-blooded to a girl with nowhere to go? Her parents once saved my father’s life. That debt, the Miller Family will never forget!”

I stood unmoved, looking down on the scene like an outsider, my face expressionless.

“Ethan, if your family wants to remember that debt forever, so be it. But tell me—what does that have to do with me?”

His lips parted, but no sound came. His face burned red with shame and frustration.

Finally, he spat out the words, his voice raw:

“Sophia, someone as cruel as you is unworthy to ever set foot in the Miller Family!”

I couldn’t help but let out a mocking laugh as I looked at him.

“Ethan, you speak of compassion and duty as though it were some great virtue. If that’s how you see it, then perhaps our engagement truly deserves a second thought.”

At my words, a flicker of panic crossed Ethan’s eyes. After all, much of the Miller Family’s reputation in the industry had been built on the unique designs created by the Carter Family.

I sneered, my voice soft yet cutting, each syllable deliberate.

“Ethan, tell me—does Chloe truly have nowhere to go, or is it simply that you’re eager to give her a home?”

Chloe’s sobbing hitched, her gaze darting in panic before she lowered her head again, shrinking behind Ethan as though I were some merciless executioner.

I lifted my chin, taking measured steps toward them.

Ethan faltered. Under the pressure of my advance, all he could do was retreat step by step.

My laughter was cold, wrapped in frost.

“You call me cruel, heartless.

But if I were truly as merciless as you claim, then the moment she stole my work years ago, I wouldn’t have shown leniency because she was a poor student. I would have dragged her through court until she was ruined—stripped of everything, disgraced beyond repair.

And now? She kneels here, putting on this pitiful act. What does she want? To stir guilt in me?”

My lips curved in derision as my gaze swept over her tearful eyes.

“Chloe, you play your part well. But unfortunately for you, I was never your audience.”

The room fell silent, so quiet a pin drop could be heard.

Ethan stood frozen, still shielding Chloe, but stiff as stone. Her sobbing stopped abruptly, leaving only the stubborn streaks of tears glistening on her cheeks beneath the harsh lights.

The news spread faster than I could have imagined.

In just three days, the entire U.S. architectural community was buzzing with headlines about Chloe Davis’s return.

It all began with an official statement posted on the Miller Group’s account:

“The Miller Group will partner with the Carter Studio to jointly undertake a Federal Landmark Architecture Project over the next five years. At the same time, architect Chloe Davis has been specially appointed to join the team, overseeing project development.”

Barely a few lines, but like a stone dropped into still water, they sent ripples crashing across the industry.

Everyone remembered how Chloe had been disgraced and expelled for plagiarizing my work. And yet here she was, returning boldly as an architect. Without the Miller Family’s support, who else would dare give her such a chance?

“A world-renowned architect forced to work alongside someone with a black mark on her record?”

“Isn’t this outright humiliation?”

“How could Sophia stomach working with the very woman who stole her work? Unless, of course, the story we know isn’t the whole truth…”

“Word is, the Carters were powerful back then. Maybe Chloe was silenced. Now that she’s made a comeback, perhaps Sophia’s family fears the past will be exposed—maybe that’s why she’s allowed back.”

Public opinion swelled and twisted. My name was mentioned again and again alongside Chloe’s, with some even daring to question whether my so-called international awards had been won honestly—or stolen.

I stood before the floor-to-ceiling window, a fresh newspaper clenched in my hand.

The headline on the front page blared:

“Genius Architect Feud? Former Classmates in the Design World Set for a Direct Showdown.”

“Miss, should we issue a statement?” my assistant asked nervously, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Clarify?” I let out a cold laugh. “Do you really think a clarification will silence gossip? They don’t care about the truth—they want a spectacle.”

I tossed the newspaper into the fireplace, watching as the flames devoured those glaring headlines.

“If they want a show,” I murmured, “then I’ll give them one worth watching.”

Three days later, the press conference.

The hall glittered with bright chandeliers, cameras flashing in dizzying bursts.

Ethan stood confidently on stage in a tailored suit, while Chloe wore a pristine white dress, her face radiant with a carefully cultivated fragility.

But the moment she began speaking, her voice cracked into a trembling sob.

“I know many of you hold prejudice against me, but I’m willing to prove myself with real talent.

The misunderstandings of the past… maybe they happened because I was young, reckless, and didn’t clarify things in time, which led people to believe I had plagiarized.”

She paused, gazing at the reporters through tear-filled eyes, her voice quivering.

“But as for some of those drafts—who first sketched them—well, I believe those who truly know the industry already understand.”

The words hit like a bombshell.

The room erupted. She hadn’t said it outright, but the insinuation was clear enough to spark suspicion:

Could the plagiarism scandal of years past have been a cover-up?

Was the so-called genius architect Sophia Carter actually the plagiarist?

Ethan quickly took the microphone, his tone steady and authoritative.

“I believe Chloe. I hope you’ll give her a chance.

She and Sophia were classmates in college—both rivals and partners who pushed each other forward. The Miller Family is willing to guarantee the projects she’ll lead in the future.”

Chloe turned to him with glistening gratitude in her eyes. He returned the look with open tenderness, as though they were the ones about to be engaged.

The press surged with excitement, flashes snapping like lightning, reporters whispering feverishly among themselves.

Then, slowly, I walked onto the stage.

My black gown swept the floor, my makeup was understated, but the cold fire in my eyes was impossible to miss.

I didn’t spare a glance at Chloe or Ethan. Instead, I faced the sea of cameras head-on, my voice sharp and unwavering.

“Since we’re discussing talent and clarification, why don’t we have Chloe present hers—right here, right now.”

I raised my hand toward the giant screen behind me.

“This is my latest proposal, submitted last month—City of Dawn.”

The screen lit up, revealing sweeping lines and a bold, visionary design.

The hall fell silent; reporters held their breath.

A faint, icy smile curved my lips.

“If she truly has the ability, let her offer a revision… or better yet, present her own design and compete against mine.”

Chloe’s face drained of color.

Moments ago, she had implied I was a plagiarist. Now, with the spotlight fixed on her, she couldn’t form a single word.

Her hands gripped the edge of the table, knuckles trembling, her eyes darting wildly. Even her breath seemed to falter.

The silence in the hall grew suffocating. The cameras zoomed in, magnifying every flicker of panic on her face.

Reporters lifted their microphones but didn’t dare speak; only the relentless clicking of shutters and the harsh glare of flashbulbs filled the air, weaving a blinding white pressure around her.

Chloe’s lips trembled. Her pale face glistened with tears, the makeup she had so carefully applied streaking into ruin.