Mr. Kane Got Blacklisted by Eleven Jewell

Chapter 1537
Wenham remained silent, clearly agitated by the comments about his daughter.
No matter how compelling the evidence on the screen was, he refused to accept his daughter would resort to plagiarism. Even if
it were true, he wholeheartedly believed that Stella was completely unaware. But things could escalate, and it could stain her
reputation if the plagiarism were confirmed.
As Wenham was about to speak, Trevor cut in and said, " What do we do? If we don’t address this now, people will think our
designer is a thief."
Darcie shot Trevor a glance, "The other party has shown their drafts. They wouldn't have made a scene at this press conference
if they didn't have concrete proof. I also find it hard to believe Stella would instruct a designer to do this. But if the designer is
guilty, Stella will be implicated since she is organizing this event."
Trevor calmly added, "What if it's a set-up? What if the other party is intentionally trying to frame us? Well miss the optimal time
for a comeback if we wait any longer. Even if we issue a statement later, few will buy it. The people have already made up their
minds. They'll believe what they first see. Even if the evidence later is ironclad, netizens will dismiss it as a slick defense."
Darcie furrowed her brows. She wanted to say more, but
Wenham interjected, "Let's hold off for now. Stella is confident, and we shouldn't doubt her."
Darcie pressed her lips together and said nothing more.
The revelation of the design drafts caused a commotion in the audience.
Chad grinned and said, "Ms. Hall, care to explain how our design was turned into The Velvet's tenth-anniversary piece? Don’t we
and your loyal consumer base deserve an explanation?"
Stella redirected her gaze toward him, "If you think this can pass as evidence, then anyone can waltz in with a few sketches and
cry plagiarism."
"I knew you'd say that. I've got proof that your designer, Maggie, took a peek at our designer's work," Chad sneered as he played
a video from his phone.

As the tape unfolded, Maggie's demeanor shifted slightly. The video displayed surveillance footage of Maggie and Barbara
meeting at a coffee shop. Mid-conversation, Barbara stepped out with her phone, likely to take a call.
There was a folder on her seat.
Maggie sat engrossed in her phone. After a while, she beckoned the server for the bill and took the document.
When the video concluded, Barbara stepped up to the stage. She grabbed the microphone and addressed the audience," Hello,
everyone. I'm Barbara, the designer whose work was plagiarized. I believe some of you here might remember me.
Just a month ago, I was still the head of The Velvet's design team. I worked at the company for four years and eight months,
designing countless pieces and receiving numerous praises."
"Due to creative differences with Ms. Hall, I left The Velvet and joined Grandeur Gallery. My new boss values me highly and
entrusts me with the design of our new series. I poured my heart and soul into my work to establish myself in the company.
Having just left a company I had worked at for many years, I felt down and unsure of my future. With my friend's encouragement,
the term 'rebirth' came to mind. So, I integrated this notion of breaking free from the cocoon into my design.
"I left The Velvet in haste and left behind some personal items. So, I asked Maggie, who had a good relationship with me before,
to fetch them for me. That was why we met up at the coffee shop. We didn't chat for long when I suddenly received a call saying
something had happened to my child at school. I immediately rushed out and couldn't even manage a proper goodbye.
"It was only when I was on the road that I remembered I'd forgotten my design drafts. They contained the sketches of the new
products I'd created for the company. I hastily contacted Maggie, asking her to hold on to them and telling her I'd swing by to pick
them up. My design drafts were in Maggie's possession for nearly an hour. She easily could have browsed through them and
plagiarized my work!"
"You're spouting nonsense!" Maggie's face turned pale with anger. She gripped the microphone, her voice quivering from
the intensity, "I kept your design drafts safe, but I didn't so much as turn a page. I'm a designer myself; I know how important
sketches are to a designer. Why would I possibly intrude on your private belongings?"
"Only you know what you did," Barbara jeered, looking at her with a sardonic smile. "How do you explain the striking similarities
in our designs if you didn't peek at my work? Are you insinuating that we somehow share the same brain?"