Plagiarist in My Studio, His Deep Regret

Chloe clutched the hem of her dress, her knuckles bone-white, like a caged animal with no way out.

I wasn’t in a hurry.

I walked toward her slowly, each step steady, my voice unhurried, every word carrying clearly through the microphone.

“What’s wrong?”

A cold curve pulled at my lips.

“Didn’t you just say everyone in the industry already knows the truth?”

“Then go on—tell them. Share your vision, your ideas, even your last design concept. Let’s hear it.”

The hall fell into a suffocating silence.

Only the cold, unblinking cameras remained, magnifying the panic flickering in her eyes.

“S–Sophia…”

Her voice rasped, raw as gravel.

Trembling, she reached for Ethan’s sleeve, her words broken, laced with sobs.

“I always thought of you as my best, best friend. Can’t we just leave the past in the past?

I don’t want to drag up old wounds and ruin what we have.

If you say I plagiarized, then fine—I plagiarized. I don’t want to argue anymore. People will judge for themselves.

Some of those drafts… who they originally belonged to—I won’t say too much. But one day, the truth will come out.”

The words shot through the air like a bullet, striking the soft underbelly of public opinion.

She hadn’t said it outright, but her insinuation was enough.

The hall erupted.

Reporters’ faces shifted with sudden realization, whispers breaking into a storm.

Could the plagiarism scandal have been more complicated than it seemed?

Was the so-called genius architect Sophia Carter really the one who had stepped on someone else to rise?

A dry laugh slipped past my lips, sharp as a blade.

“So this is your so-called ‘truth the industry knows’?”

I met her gaze head-on, my eyes like steel.

“Chloe, you can’t even articulate the basics of your work, yet you dare to slander me with lies?”

My words landed like a needle piercing straight into her weakness.

The reporters could no longer hold back. Scenting blood, they surged like sharks.

“Ms. Davis, just now you implied Sophia plagiarized. Do you have concrete proof?”

“If not, are you deliberately defaming her?”

“What really happened back then? Please don’t dodge the question!”

“Can you present one of your original drafts right now, so we can compare?”

“Sophia’s design, ‘City of Dawn,’ has already passed international certification. Can you produce a work on that level?”

Flashes exploded in a storm of white light.

Chloe’s breath quickened, her forehead damp with sweat. She clung to Ethan’s sleeve with trembling hands, her voice quivering to the breaking point.

“I… I don’t want to fight anymore. I just… I just want justice…”

She deflected again, shaping herself into the portrait of a victim crushed beneath power.

And yet, that only goaded the reporters into pressing harder.

The hall was chaos. Every lens zoomed mercilessly on her face.

At that moment, Ethan finally spoke.

He pulled Chloe behind him, his dark eyes locking onto me with a cold, sharp intensity. His voice was low, edged with steel.

“That’s enough, Sophia. How long will you use your family’s influence to bully an innocent girl?”

His chest heaved as though he were restraining his fury with great effort.

For a long beat, he turned to the restless sea of reporters and, with sudden force, declared—