The event was spiraling. The employees who had worked tirelessly on the launch began to grumble.
Naomi looked at the crowd, tears shimmering in her eyes. "I'm so sorry. This is my fault. My reporting ruined the launch. I just... I couldn't let the truth be buried. I apologize to everyone."
Joel stepped in front of her, shielding her from the crowd.
"You exposed a fraud, Naomi. There is nothing to apologize for. The person who should be sorry is Anna Harding."
He pointed a finger at me. "The media is here. Perfect. Apologize to the victim you plagiarized. Now."
My eyes were dead as I looked at him.
I asked softly,
"Is a simple apology enough? Do you expect me to kneel? That would give you the sensational headline you're desperate for, wouldn't it?"
A flicker of guilt passed through his eyes—there and gone in a heartbeat, replaced by a mask of cold indifference.
"An apology isn't enough." His voice dropped an octave. "Take the dress off. Now. Return it to its rightful owner."
The words hit the room like a match to gasoline. Shutters exploded into a frenzy, capturing my humiliation from every conceivable angle.
*Did I hear him right?*
Underneath, I wore only a thin base layer. If I stripped off this dress, I would be exposed to the world.
Naomi's gaze slid to my trembling hands, a sickly sweet smile curling her lips. "You really seem to like this dress, sis. Maybe I should just apologize to the designer and beg her to let you keep it."
Something inside me snapped.
"This dress was mine to begin with!" My voice cracked, raw and hysterical. "I designed it myself!"
*Slap.*
Joel's hand struck my cheek, wrenching my head to the side.
"Enough!" Shards of ice glittered in his eyes. "You still have the nerve to lose your temper at Naomi? You're wearing a base layer. The photos will be censored. What exactly are you pretending to be so precious about?"
My cheek burned, a stinging red mark blooming across my skin. But the pain was nothing—*nothing*—compared to the agony ripping through my chest.
The press conference had transformed into my public execution.
From start to finish, I was the only one on trial.
As I unzipped the dress, mocking laughter filled the air. Lips smacked wetly. Naomi hoisted her camera, the shutter clicking in rapid bursts, capturing every second of my shame.