At the Starlight Design Finals.

Eva Stone stepped onto the stage in a flowing white dress, holding her design sketch in hand, with a model following behind. She started presenting her piece, named “Starlight and Moon.”

She had poured six whole months into this work, staying up countless nights, reworking draft after draft. Just when she thought she nailed it, she’d scrap everything and start over. This final version had taken everything she had.

But right as she began explaining her design concept, someone from the audience interrupted her.

“She copied it!”

“I’ve seen this design on an international site. The picture’s online!”

“It’s plagiarism!”

The audience instantly buzzed with outrage.

The Starlight Design Finals, held every three years, was the top-tier event in the domestic design world. Making it to the finals was already a big deal. Even without winning, it guaranteed a foot in the door of the industry.

Eva had been the frontrunner to take the crown.

“What’s going on?” one of the judges scowled, glaring at her. “Eva, care to explain this?”

“I didn’t copy anyone! I spent half a year pouring my heart and soul into this design,” Eva said, her voice shaking as she clutched the mic. Her delicate face flushed red with humiliation.

Plagiarism—it was the absolute worst accusation for any original creator.

“Check this website from overseas. It shows the exact same design and says it won first prize.”

“And she thinks we don’t follow international trends? She really thought no one would notice?”

A young woman rushed onto the stage, pulling out her phone and flashing a photo. On it was a design identical to Eva’s—revealed to have won an award just yesterday.

“Oh my god, it IS a copy.”

“She’s done for. Who dares cheat at the Starlight Finals? Her design career’s toast.”

“Design career? Please. She’s a plagiarist. Just wanna rip that fake mask off her face!”

The crowd went wild with angry shouting.

It didn’t take long for the judges to reach a unanimous decision.

The host glared at Eva and snapped, “There’s no place in the design world for a thief like you. Please leave. Now.”"No, I didn’t steal anyone’s design, I—"

"Get lost!"

The girl accusing Eva of plagiarism shoved her right off the stage, eyes blazing with anger.

"Someone shut that copycat up!"

"Throw her out!"

"Ugh, disgusting!"

A second later, someone flung a bag at her, and then came books, hats—whatever people could grab. The room exploded into chaos.

Eva tried to dodge the attacks, but there were too many. She wanted to go back on stage, to say something—anything—but the security guards didn’t give her the chance. Cold and brutal, they dragged her out like trash.

"I didn’t copy anybody!"

She slumped outside the venue, knees hitting the ground. Her hair was a mess, her white dress crumpled and stained, smeared with dirt and god knows what else.

Her hands were covered in scratches, fresh and red—the angry crowd’s handiwork in their blind fury.

Biting her lip hard, Eva couldn’t stop the tears. They poured down her face like a dam had broken.

She had poured half a year into this design. Being a designer was always her dream. That’s why she’d busted her ass to get into Greene University’s design program.

And now someone else had beaten her to the punch? Won an international award with her work?

With trembling hands, Eva pulled out her phone and opened the website everyone mentioned. She scrolled down to the name of the award-winning designer: Lila Cane.

Lila Cane.

The moment she saw the name, her heart dropped. As if someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over her.

Her husband’s first love. The ghost that haunted her dreams for a decade.

"Matthew Greene?"

Eva staggered to her feet. That design... the only person who had seen her draft work before today was Matthew. He’d come home early that one night... went into her study...

Her chest tightened, breath hitching. Her mind spun.

Then, like her soul caught fire, she bolted down the street and flagged the first cab she could.

"Greene Corporation. Now."

In the backseat, Eva closed her eyes, whispering under her breath, "No way... it can’t be you… Say it’s not you."

Seven years. She had loved him for seven years. How could he be the one to destroy her?

Sure, he’d been cold since their wedding, distant at best. But this? Even he couldn’t be that heartless.

An hour later.

Greene Corp building.

"Sorry, no appointment, no meeting. Our CEO doesn’t have time for just anyone."

The receptionist shot her a dismissive glance, voice laced with sarcasm.

"Matthew Greene is my husband. I want to see him!"