Chapter 363

Evelyn fell silent, her head dipping low. Hidden from Nathaniel's sight, the faintest smile curved her lips.

His words cut through the tension like sunlight piercing winter frost, thawing the chill in her chest.

With the competition approaching, Nathaniel checked the time before gently cupping her face. His voice was steady. "You'll do great. No nerves."

"Okay." Evelyn nodded.

They parted ways—Nathaniel followed Samuel to the viewing area while Evelyn headed to the adjacent green room.

She shared the news of their recovered files with the team. After exchanging quick words of encouragement, they moved backstage to prepare.

There, Evelyn froze.

The woman presenting design sketches on stage was unmistakable—the same sunglasses-clad figure she'd seen earlier with Charlotte.

A staff member supplied her name: Vivian Sterling, a designer from Dresden. Her work showcased impressive adaptability, earning nods from judges and murmurs from the audience. But Evelyn barely registered the praise. Her focus locked onto the sketches projected on screen, her expression unreadable.

Charlotte nudged her. "Evelyn. What's wrong?"

Evelyn blinked, then turned to Gabrielle and the others, her voice icy. "Do those look familiar?"

Gabrielle, Charlotte, and the rest followed her gaze. From their angle, they only caught a side view, but the 5D rendering displayed the full design. Gabrielle gasped. "Ms. Mitchell, those are—"

"Ours," Evelyn cut in sharply, mindful of nearby staff.

Silence dropped like a guillotine.

Charlotte understood first.

They retreated to a secluded corner. "Anyone know her?" Charlotte asked.

Blank stares all around.

Liam frowned. "How did this happen? Could she be the one who tampered with our system earlier?"

Gabrielle and Maxwell exchanged uneasy glances.

Evelyn, however, was already three steps ahead. Her tone was flat. "Doesn't matter who did it. Our work's been stolen. Now what?"

Liam, ever pragmatic, folded his arms. "If we proceed with our original designs, we'll be accused of plagiarism. First impression bias."

Evelyn gave a tight nod.

Maxwell ran a hand through his hair. "But without our sketches, we can't compete."

Gabrielle, inexperienced with high-stakes sabotage, looked lost. Charlotte turned to Evelyn. "Any backups?"

"No." Evelyn's jaw tightened. "Not just no backups—all our drafts and discarded sketches were destroyed."

Admitting they'd been stolen would directly implicate Vivian. But Evelyn had burned their rejects precisely to prevent misuse. Now, it had backfired spectacularly.

As Vivian finished her presentation, she descended the stage—and locked eyes with Evelyn. Her smile was a challenge.

Evelyn didn't flinch.

She met Vivian's gaze head-on, her expression coolly detached. A silent thought echoed in her mind: I didn't steal anything. Why should I look away?