"It's been said that Astrid sohow copied your designs. What is your response to that?" a reporter asked, her microphone thrust forward eagerly.
Hyun, sitting poised under the studio lights, glanced briefly at the reporters before offering a calm, charming smile. "To be honest, I've created countless designs for my winter collection over the months. So of them, unfortunately, went missing. Luckily, we've always prepared reserves for such situations."
A collective gasp rippled through the room. The reporters exchanged looks, their pens scribbling furiously.
"Are you implying that Astrid stole your work? That she took your designs?" another journalist pressed, her voice sharp with intrigue.
Hyun's smile didn't falter, though his gaze sharpened. "I'm not implying anything. Miss Astrid is an incredibly talented designer who has been in this industry far longer than I have. I find it hard to believe she would resort to such asures. I respect her greatly."
The room fell into a stunned silence. Hyun's refusal to directly accuse Astrid left the reporters both baffled and captivated. Instead of pursuing legal action or calling out the alleged theft, he had chosen a path of quiet grace.
But this was Eve's plan all along.
In the grand sche of things, legal action was futile. Eve had anticipated this outco—had even prepared for it. If they pursued charges, Astrid would find a way to shift the bla, perhaps onto so low-level staff mber who had stolen the designs out of desperation to feed their family. It would spiral into a protracted ss, wasting both ti and money.
By refraining from accusations and letting public opinion do its work, they had achieved a more devastating blow. Astrid's reputation was already in tatters, and no court ruling could match the damage of being branded a copycat and second-rate by the industry and the dia.
It was enough for now. If she tried another stunt like this again, then Eve would ruin her for good until she couldn't get up anymore.
=== ===
Inside her office, Astrid's fury knew no bounds. Papers were scattered, her voice shrill as she pointed an accusing finger at Sophia, who stood unruffled by the outburst.
"You told Hyun would be finished! You said this plan would elevate to fa! But instead, I'm the one being dragged through the mud! I'm the one they're calling a fraud!"
Sophia's expression remained unreadable, though a storm brewed behind her cold, calculating eyes. Without a word, she picked up a file from the desk and slid it toward Astrid.
"What is this?" Astrid asked, snatching it up with trembling hands.
Sophia's voice was ice-cold as she answered, "This marks the end of our partnership."
Astrid froze, disbelief plastered across her face. "What? You're just going to walk away? After all this? After you got into this ss?"
Sophia picked up her bag, her movents deliberate, and began heading toward the door. "Our contract was clear. No scandals, no tarnished reputations. You've failed to uphold your end of the deal. I see no reason to continue."
"You can't be serious!" Astrid yelled, her voice cracking. "This was your idea! You pushed into this! And now you're abandoning ?"
Sophia paused, her lips curving into a cruel smirk. "Bla yourself, not . I provided you with the designs. It's not my fault you couldn't execute them properly. If you'd delivered even a fraction of the quality required, we wouldn't be here." Continue reading at empire
"The tilines were impossible!" Astrid shot back, desperation dripping from her voice.
Sophia waved a dismissive hand. "Excuses don't interest , Astrid. What interests is results—and you've delivered none. This is goodbye."
With that, Sophia walked out, leaving Astrid alone amidst the chaos of her ruined dreams.
The fallout was swift and unforgiving. The fa and fortune Astrid had briefly tasted vanished overnight. Her na, now synonymous with scandal and diocrity, left her isolated and despised.
Clients withdrew their support, and the debts from frantic damage control piled up, forcing her to close her shop.
After everything that had happened, opening her shop again felt utterly aningless. Astrid knew, deep down, that it was the end of the line. No one would dare commission her to create dresses, and no spotlight would ever shine on her work again. Her na, once whispered with respect, was now a punchline—a cautionary tale in the cutthroat world of fashion.
The industry could be rciless. One misstep was all it took to unravel years of effort, and Astrid had stumbled in the worst possible way. She had gambled her reputation for a chance at fleeting fa, only to lose everything.
Sitting alone in her now-empty studio, Astrid stared at the mannequin in front of her. It wore one of her designs—sothing she had poured her heart into, back when she still believed she had a future.
Now it felt like a mockery, a hollow reminder of what she had once been. Her hands clenched into fists, the regret cutting deeper with each passing mont.
She shouldn't have accepted those designs. Even in her desperation, she should have known better. But at the ti, she convinced herself it was her only chance to rise above diocrity.
And hadn't Sophia promised to stand by her? Hadn't the Rosettes assured her that they would support her no matter what?
Those promises had crumbled the mont the scandal broke. The sa people who had urged her to take the risk were the first to abandon her when the fallout began. They washed their hands of her, leaving her to face the storm alone.
Astrid thought back to Sophia's parting words, the icy indifference in her tone as she delivered the final blow. It stung more than she wanted to admit, but it also left her paralyzed.
Sophia was untouchable—a towering figure with connections that ran deep. Dragging her na into the mud would be a death sentence, and Astrid knew it.
With no money and her reputation in ruins, what would be the point of lashing out? All it would do was ensure she was blacklisted entirely, condemned to obscurity forever.
No one would risk associating with soone who dared to challenge the Rosettes, no matter how justified the accusations.
In the end, Astrid realized she had no choice but to swallow her pride and accept her fate. Fighting back would be futile. Her dreams were over, her career destroyed.
All that remained was the bitter taste of regret and the hollow silence of a studio that would never again see the light of day.
The world moved on without her, as it always did. For Astrid, there was no redemption—only the slow, painful process of fading away.
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