Chapter 49
Chapter 49
After Sophie finally calmed down, she looked at Rachel with what seemed like genuine regret: “Sister, I’m so sorry about before. I only used your work because my hand was hurt and I had no other choice. I get why you were mad, but please don’t blame Arthur for it.”
She dabbed at her eyes again, keeping them all red and puffy.
Rachel watched her coldly, watching the whole performance.
She suddenly remembered what Nicolas had said-“You’re about as bad at lying as Sophie is at fake crying.”
Watching Sophie’s delicate little tear-wiping act now, Rachel actually burst out laughing.
It really was pathetic.
The crazy part was nobody else could see right through it.
“Oh, by the way,” Sophie sniffled, brightening up like she was trying to change to a happier topic, “I heard Maëlys is back in town.”
She was clearly trying to steer away from the heavy stuff, putting on this brave face.
“Word is she’s setting up shop here for good! Starting her own studio and everything, looking for designers. But you have to win some competition first…”
Her voice got quieter and quieter, obviously losing confidence.
Joanne jumped in with encouragement: “Don’t worry, sweetie. You’ll totally crush it.”
Rachel heard every word but just sat there quietly, trying to become invisible.
Maelys coming back had basically broken the internet in design circles. Every designer was dying to get a
shot.
But the entry requirements were brutal-you needed national level awards just to qualify. That alone knocked out most people.
Sophie had about as much design talent as a brick. Every “award winning” piece she’d ever done was straight up stolen from Rachel.
Her chances of making it through selection were basically zero.
Rachel kept quiet, but Sophie came right at her: “Sister, I’m totally gonna make it through, don’t you think?”
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“You?” Rachel’s laugh was ice-cold and brutal: “Do you even know what design means?”
Sophie just smiled it off, with this little edge to her voice: “Sister, don’t sell me short. I practically grew up studying your work. I know every single piece you’ve ever made by heart.”
Rachel’s expression went arctic.
Grew up studying her work…
She was basically admitting she’d ripped off everything Rachel had ever created.
“Sophie, you know how long cloned sheep usually live?” Rachel asked with a sharp smile.
“Sister, I have no idea what you’re talking about… All I know is my work gets tons of recognition, and that
makes me happy.”
Rachel couldn’t take it anymore and shot up so fast her chair scraped loudly across the floor.
“You’re hopeless.”
Sophie’s eyes immediately welled up again, tears hanging on her lashes: “Why do you always assume the worst about people, sister? I just want to prove I’m capable…”
Her voice got all soft and vulnerable at the end, the kind that made people want to protect her.
The crystal chandelier cast perfect shadows on her face, hiding that tiny smirk at the corner of her mouth.
“Prove yourself?” Rachel’s knuckles went white gripping the table. “Junior year, you swiped my rough drafts, changed like two lines, slapped your name on them, and submitted them to Milan Fashion Week. That’s your
proof?”
“Senior year, you faked an injury and guilt-tripped me into designing something for you to use. That’s your
talent? The Leroix princess really that desperate?”
She was getting more worked up, unconsciously stepping toward Sophie, who shrank back.
David slammed his palm on the table; “That’s enough!”
When he spoke, everyone else shut up.
This had been going on way too long. He couldn’t remember when family dinners had turned into war zones.
The constant fighting was giving him a headache. He just muttered “knock it off” and walked out.
Arthur looked frustrated too. He didn’t want to be the bad guy, but somehow Rachel always pushed his
buttons.
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Chapter 49
Why couldn’t she just be sweet like Sophie?
He was done arguing and laid down the law: “Sophie’s never done anything like this before-of course she’s nervous. You’re gonna make three designs for Sophie to pick from. The judges only care about the work anyway, so it doesn’t matter whose name’s on it. Either way, it’s good for the family.”
The air went dead silent.
Rachel could hear her pulse pounding in her ears.
“Arthur!” Sophie gasped, grabbing his sleeve, her pearl earrings swaying: “Don’t put sister in a tough spot. I…
I can handle this myself…”
“Don’t worry about it, Sophie.” Arthur thought she was just being modest and gave her hand a reassuring pat
“Like hell!”
Rachel was seeing red. She couldn’t believe they were plotting Sophie’s cheating right in front of her face.
“Make me her ghostwriter? You’re out of your damn mind!”
She grabbed a steak knife, gripping it tight and slamming it into the table right next to Arthur’s fingers: “You want me to be a stepping stone for Little Miss Plagiarist? Just cut my hands off right now!”
The knife blade caught the light, gleaming dangerously. Arthur jerked back, genuinely startled.
Sophie reached for Rachel’s arm: “Sister, do you really want to blow everything up? When you had that fever junior year, who stayed by your bed for three straight days…”
“You mean when you drugged my IV so you could photograph my sketches?” Rachel yanked her arm away. “I was out cold that whole night, and the next morning my design showed up on TV with your name on it. What are the odds of that coincidence?”
Sophie bit her lip and went quiet,
She had stolen Rachel’s work, but Rachel was sick and couldn’t compete anyway, so she was basically
helping!
And Rachel never said anything about it later!
“Do we really need to rehash ancient history?” Arthur looked at her with obvious irritation, then grabbed
the knife and tossed it aside.
“Want to talk about the past? Let me refresh your memory about why you spent three years in prison.” His fingers drummed on the table. “Hit and run. If that record gets out, which studio do you think is gonna touch you with a ten-foot pole?”
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Rachel felt ice water in her veins, her whole body going rigid.
“This is settled. You’re making some designs for Sophie. It’s all about family honor anyway-doesn’t matter
whose name goes on them.”
Joanne finally sighed and took Rachel’s wrist gently: “Honey, your brother’s right. Sophie’s your sister-her
success is your success, isn’t it?”
