Chapter 106

Evelyn's POV

Every gaze was fixed on Mia. The spotlights and cameras all centered on her. Under that intense pressure, Mia began shaking uncontrollably, completely panicked. After a long, silent moment, she finally crumbled and open her mouth.

Her confession hung in the air, each word a nail in my coffin. "Ms. Whitmore made me do it," she'd said, her voice breaking. "She ordered me to switch Ms. Sinclair's dress with the red one." The cameras zoomed in closer, their red recording lights blinking like accusatory eyes.

"Ms. Whitmore." The host's voice cut through the chaos, sharp and unforgiving. "Why did you sabotage Serena Sinclair's dress? What made you resort to such tactics?"

My throat constricted. The words wouldn't come. I could feel my carefully constructed world crumbling around me. Years of building my reputation in the industry, gone in an instant. My fingers trembled as I gripped the microphone, my other hand unconsciously smoothing my designer dress - a nervous habit I'd developed since childhood.

"Nina," I whispered, my eyes desperately seeking out my best friend in the crowd. Nina had always been my safety net, my partner in every scheme. She would help me. She had to.

But when Nina stepped forward, her expression wasn't what I'd expected. Her normally warm eyes were cold, distant. "Evelyn," she began, her voice carrying through the speakers, "I can't believe you would do this. Using such underhanded methods to sabotage my sister..."

My heart stopped. This wasn't the script we'd planned. "Nina, what are you-"

"As much as it pains me," Nina continued, cutting me off, her voice thick with manufactured emotion, "I have to withdraw from the competition. I cannot be associated with such behavior. The crown belongs to my sister, Serena. She's always been the better designer."

The betrayal hit me like a physical blow. My legs weakened, and I had to fight to stay upright. The whispers in the audience grew louder, and I caught fragments of their judgment: "Disgraceful," "Always knew she was fake," "Career over."

The room started spinning. The lights seemed to grow brighter, more accusatory. Somewhere in the chaos, I heard the host asking another question, but the words were lost in the ringing in my ears. My hand flew to my throat, trying to loosen an invisible noose.

I looked at Nina one last time, searching for any sign of our friendship, any hint that this was all a mistake. But she'd already turned away, walking toward Serena with open arms. The perfect picture of sisterly devotion, while I stood alone in the spotlight, abandoned and exposed.

Nina's POV

*How dare she act so righteous*, I thought, watching Serena stand confidently at the microphone. Her words made my blood boil.

"A competition is a competition - there's no room for courtesy," she declared, her voice steady and clear. "I won't accept a victory that people could later dismiss as unearned."

I clenched my fists as she continued addressing the judges: "I trust you'll make your decision based solely on merit, without outside influence. The audience, both here and watching at home, deserves a legitimate outcome."

My anger only grew as the crowd started rallying behind her. They were supposed to be on my side! But now they were calling out:

"Show us Serena's design!"

"Give Serena a fair chance!"

"Let the competition continue - we want a real result!"

*Of course they'd support her*, I fumed silently. *Lumi Nova's designs were always crowd-pleasers*. I watched as the audience's excitement built, knowing my carefully laid plans were starting to unravel. This wasn't how things were supposed to go at all.

I watched as Serena graciously thanked the audience before taking her gown into the backstage, then disappearing into the changing area.

Minutes felt like hours. Then she emerged, and my heart stopped.

There she stood on stage, an ethereal vision that seemed to have stepped right out of a painting. The entire audience fell silent, completely captivated. Not even Hollywood's greatest stars could compare to this moment.

I couldn't tell anymore which enhanced which - whether the exquisite, regal gown elevated her beauty, or her beauty elevated the gown's elegance. They had become one perfect creation.

*It's breathtaking*, I admitted bitterly to myself. *Absolutely breathtaking*.

The beauty before us was beyond description, beyond comparison. And I hated every second of it.

The audience erupted in thunderous applause, she bathed in spotlights that made her glow like some divine being. My stomach churned as I watched her, poised and elegant, accepting the Battle of the Needle trophy with graceful humility. The roar of admiration from the crowd felt like needles in my ears.

"Absolutely stunning!"

"A masterpiece!"

"Serena Sinclair is truly in a league of her own!"

Each praise felt like a slap across my face. I dug my fingernails into my palms, forcing myself to maintain my composed expression. The cameras were still rolling, after all. I wouldn't give them the satisfaction of capturing my true feelings.

My mind drifted back to that night seven years ago, when I'd finally found a way to crush her. I remember watching from the shadows as she stumbled out of that party, the drug I'd slipped into her drink taking effect. Everything had been perfectly planned - the hired man, the hidden cameras, the scandal that would destroy her pristine reputation forever.

The plan hadn't worked exactly as intended - the man had developed a conscience at the last minute - but fate had smiled upon me anyway. The pregnancy, the miscarriage, the scandal... it had all spiraled beautifully out of control. I'd stood by, playing the concerned sister while watching her world crumble. The way Father had looked at her, the whispers in the halls of our home, the tears in her eyes as she boarded that plane to exile - those memories had sustained me for years.

But now here she was, risen from the ashes I'd scattered her into, more radiant than ever. The way the audience gazed at her with adoration made my blood boil. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. She was supposed to stay broken, stay gone, stay defeated.

"I want to thank everyone for their support," Serena's voice rang clear through the speakers. "To the judges and the show's production team, thank you for giving me the chance to clear my name. This trophy represents more than just a victory - it represents vindication."

Her eyes swept across the audience, and for a brief moment, they met mine. "And remember," she continued, her lips curving into a subtle smile, "karma always comes full circle. What goes around, comes around."