Tracy stopped in front of the Dior Company building.
The structure she had entered and exited countless times now felt alien and cold, almost hostile.
“Did you hear? Director Clairborne just won another international design award!”
“Really? How many has she won this year already?”
“I heard the CEO’s throwing her a big celebration party. The top designers will be there!”
“Damn. Now that’s what you call a real genius designer. She’s so young, and already this successful. Her future’s limitless!”
The employees’ chatter froze Tracy in her tracks..
Her heart twisted painfully, as if someone had stabbed straight through her chest.
Her designs, her efforts, her sleepless nights she endured on that isolated island—all of it had become someone else’s glory.
At that moment, she saw a familiar figure—Alston.
He emerged from the building in a perfectly tailored suit. Beside him was a petite woman clinging to his arm, the two of them chatting and laughing together.
In an instant, Tracy’s blood turned to ice.
That woman… was Avril Clairborne.
Three years had passed since they last met, and Avril was even more dazzling than before.
An expensive custom suit hugged her slender frame. Her makeup was flawless, her expression radiating confidence and satisfaction.
And the way she held Alston’s arm—so natural, so intimate.
Alston’s gaze swept past the crowd, and when it landed on Tracy, there was a brief flicker of shock and unease in his eyes… but only for a second.
He quickly regained his calm and composed demeanor.
“Tracy?” He released Avril’s hand and walked briskly toward her. “What are you doing here? I was just about to go pick you up from the island. I didn’t expect you to come back on your own.”
His concern was perfectly measured, tempered with just the right amount of surprise.
“Let me introduce you,” he said, turning and gesturing toward the woman beside him. “This is Dior Company Design Research Institute’s Chief Designer. Avril Clairborne.”
‘Chief designer?’
Another sharp pain shot through Tracy’s heart.
That position… was supposed to be hers!
Of course, Avril knew her. They’d grown up together—more than ten years in the same orphanage.
Back then, Avril had an angelic baby face, always so sweet and innocent. But she could lie without blinking.
“Grandma Director! I saw Tracy steal money from the donation box!”
Even at five years old, she had already learned how to disguise cruelty with tears and feigned vulnerability.
When Tracy was fourteen, her birth parents finally found her. She thought she’d left that part of her life—and that girl—behind forever.
But fate had other plans. Three years ago, Dior Company welcomed a new intern: Avril.
She was hopeless professionally, unable to operate even basic design software, yet her vulnerable act effortlessly attracted sympathy from the male employees.
At first, Tracy didn’t think much of it… until something about Alston began to change.
He no longer waited downstairs after work every day.
A cheap, colorful hair tie appeared around his wrist.
Strawberry candies—something he never ate—started showing up in his suit pocket.
And one day, he even casually asked her how to make honey water.
When he had truly loved her, he had been too busy every day to brew her a cup of coffee, let alone a cup of honey water.
Then came what shocked her more—Avril, who had failed the professional evaluation, somehow passed her probation and became a full-time designer.
Tracy had planned to confront Alston and demand an explanation.
But before she could, tragedy struck. That day, the devastating news of the Star Twilight fireworks disaster reached her.
And from that day, she disappeared from his world for three long years.
“Miss Tracy!” Avril’s voice pulled her back to the present.
Avril rushed forward and hugged her tightly, her tone trembling with feigned emotion. “You’re finally back! I’ve missed you so much!”
She held Tracy close, whispering in a tone full of warped pride.
“I really must thank you. If you hadn’t entrusted me with all your design drafts and research notes while you were… recovering, I could never have achieved what I have today. Miss Tracy, you’re truly so selfless. I honestly don’t know how I can ever return your kindness.”
Each word sliced into Tracy’s heart like a poisoned blade.
Those endless nights she spent on the island, thinking she was building inspiration for her comeback… She had no idea that every sketch she drew was being secretly sent out, becoming the ladder for someone else’s rise to fame.
Slowly, Tracy lifted her head to look at Alston.
His gaze darkened slightly, but he carefully avoided her searching gaze.
After a brief pause, he glanced at his watch, a hint of impatience flashing across his expression.
“Sorry, Tracy. I have an important meeting coming up. Take a cab home for now. We’ll talk tonight.”
Without another glance, he turned and walked toward the parking lot.
Avril followed close behind. Before getting into the car, she looked back and gave Tracy a wide and knowing smile.
Tracy stood frozen, watching the familiar Rolls-Royce disappear into the distance. A hollow, desolate ache spread through her chest.
She hailed a cab and gave the driver an address: Oakridge Estates.
But when she stood before that villa she shared with him and entered the password, a cold, mechanical voice sounded.
“Password incorrect.”
She frowned and tried again. Still, the same cold mechanical voice said, “Password incorrect.”
Hands trembling, she opened Facebook Messenger and scrolled through Avril’s MyDays.
The birthday post was still there—Avril smiling sweetly at her cake.
Tracy stared at the photo for a long moment.
Then, with a shaking finger, she entered a different code: 0526.
At last, with a single beep, the door unlocked.
She stumbled inside, and her breath caught in her throat. Everything had changed.
The warm and elegant home she’d designed with love was gone, replaced by a mismatched mess of decorations: pink cushions, cutesy dolls, and scented candles she’d never owned.
She walked mechanically to the bedroom. As she opened the door, a cloying perfume hit her—sweet, sickly, nothing like her familiar jasmine scent.
The bedside drawer was half-open. Inside lay an assortment of bright-colored sex toys.
Even in the trash bin were several used condoms.
The sight instantly made Tracy look pale.
At that moment, it felt like the room spun; her stomach churned violently.
She clutched the wall for support, trying to stay composed, but tears streamed down her face uncontrollably.
This place—once their home, their sanctuary—had now become Alston’s playground with his other woman.
Just then, from downstairs came the sound of the door opening.
“Tracy, you’re home already?” Alston’s voice called out.
Another voice followed—sweet and coquettish. “Alston, who’s here?”
Tracy bit down hard on her lip and forced herself to walk downstairs.
Alston was carrying Avril’s suitcase. When he saw Tracy’s pale face, he offered a casual explanation.
“Avril’s lease expired. Her landlord suddenly raised the rent, and she hasn’t found a new place yet. Since there are plenty of empty rooms here, I told her she could stay for a while.”
He turned to Avril. “Go take the small room upstairs. The lighting’s good. It should suit you.”
“Thank you, Alston,” Avril replied sweetly. “I’ll be good. I won’t disturb you or Tracy.”
She made sure to flash a sweet smile at Tracy again, feigning innocence.
Watching this scene, Tracy felt her sanity unravel.
She pointed upstairs. “Those things in the bedroom… Those toys—how do you explain that?”
Alston’s expression stiffened for a second before he smoothly recovered.
“Oh, those? Some friends came over for a party last time. They got too drunk and messed around. They must’ve left them behind. I’ve just been too busy to clean up. Don’t take it to heart.”
He said it lightly, as if it were nothing.
She stared at him for a long moment, and the last trace of warmth in her eyes vanished.
“Alston,” she said quietly, her voice steady and cold. “Tell me—why did you give my research and designs to Avril?”
