Chapter 4

SUMMER'S POV

After sending the message, I immediately blocked Liam's number and all his contact information.

After three days in the hospital, I discharged myself against the doctor's advice.

I couldn't collapse. I'm a fashion designer, and next month is the final round of the "Golden Apex Award," the industry's highest honor.

My collection, 'Phoenix Rising,' which I'd poured my heart and soul into for three years, was my only chance at a comeback. If I won the Golden Apex Award, I could secure top-tier funding, launch my own independent brand, and completely break free from my past.

I dragged my weak body back to my studio, opened my laptop, and logged onto the Golden Apex Award's official website to check the finalists' list.

However, the moment the page loaded, my blood ran cold.

The very first entry on the list prominently featured my signature design.

But the name beneath the artwork wasn't Summer Miller.

It was Scarlett!

My mind went blank, and all the blood rushed to my head.

I frantically searched for my design drafts, locked in the safe. It's empty! Completely empty!

The only other person who knew the safe's combination was Liam!

My eyes burned with fury. I hailed a taxi and sped straight to Maxwell Group Headquarters.

Ignoring the security guards' attempts to stop me, I stormed up to the top floor and kicked open Liam's office door.

Liam was sitting behind his large desk, reviewing files. Seeing me burst in, his brow furrowed, and he waved away the security guards who were about to intervene.

"Are you done making a scene?" Liam's voice was impatient. "Blocking me, and now running to the office to cause chaos. Summer Miller, your tactics are getting desperate."

I rushed to his desk, bracing my hands on the surface, my voice raw, like sandpaper. "Why did you give my 'Phoenix Rising' designs to Scarlett?!"

Liam paused, his hand still on the files, then looked up, his eyes devoid of any warmth.

"Scarlett just returned to the country, preparing to enter the fashion industry. She needs a prestigious award to make a name for herself."

He spoke flatly, as if he'd merely taken a piece of my clothing, not three years of my life's work.

"That's my work! I spent countless nights drawing those designs!" My body trembled, and tears finally streamed down my face. "Liam, this is theft! This is plagiarism!"

Hearing the word "plagiarism," Liam's face completely darkened.

"Watch your tone," he said coldly. "Scarlett's hand was injured because of you; she can't even hold a pen now. I gave her a few of your rough sketches to use, consider it your apology to her."

"Apology?" I laughed, a harsh, tearing sound, tears streaming down my face. "She cut herself, and you want me to apologize? Liam, do you know that day I..."

I miscarried. Our baby was gone.

The words died on my lips.

What was the point of telling a heartless bastard like him? He only cared about the small cut on Scarlett's hand.

"I won't let you get away with this," I gritted out, word by word. "I'll submit all my creative records and original materials to the committee. I'll expose Scarlett for plagiarism!"

Liam's eyes narrowed. He shot up, grabbing my chin, forcing me to look up at him.

"Summer Miller, I'm warning you, don't play hard to get. As long as you keep quiet, you can fill out this check however you want." He flung a blank check at my face. "But if you dare lay a finger on Scarlett, I promise, you won't survive in this city!"

The check fluttered lightly to the floor.

I looked at this familiar yet unfamiliar face, and suddenly felt utterly disgusted.

"Liam, I'll see you in court."

I roughly slapped his hand away and turned, walking out with unwavering resolve.