Chapter 3

Ever since our college days, Chloe had clung to Julian like a bad rash.

Whenever Julian and I went on dates, she somehow managed to invite herself along.

My friends had called her out multiple times with heavy sarcasm.

Yet in front of us, she played the wide-eyed innocent, only to run back and sob to Julian in private.

She turned our entire circle upside down.

Back then, after she was caught cheating on an exam and quietly expelled, her wealthy parents shipped her off to an overseas diploma mill, finally bringing some peace into my life.

But she eventually came back.

At Julian’s relentless begging, she was shoehorned into my private design studio despite her worthless degree.

Yet inside the office, rumors circulated that Chloe had gotten in through my personal favoritism.

Every time she botched a design file or missed an order, I was the one who quietly took the blame and cleaned up the mess.

Whenever I tried to lay down ground rules for her sloppy work, Julian immediately jumped down my throat.

"Can you stop being so insecure? What’s wrong with giving an underclassman a helping hand?"

"She's still young, Sophia! Guide her instead of constantly attacking her!"

"Stop assuming there's something between us. If we were going to happen, we would have happened years ago!"

Looking back, it was my repeated compromises and soft-hearted tolerance that emboldened him to pull this stunt.

He knew better than anyone how much blood and sweat I poured into this competition!

For weeks on end, the lamp in my home studio burned straight through until dawn.

To verify whether the experimental structural setting was feasible, I dragged myself to an old master jeweler's workshop while running a hundred-and-two-degree fever.

And Julian handed all of that to Chloe on a silver platter.

My life's work was reduced to a stepping stone for his little darling.

Tired of watching the sickening display of their faux-sibling devotion, I slipped out of the venue and hailed an Uber home.

Inside our shared apartment, looking at the familiar furniture, I closed my eyes.

Seven years together. Every corner was saturated with memories of our shared life.

We really had loved each other once.

Back in college when we had no money, he worked three separate part-time jobs during break just to save up for a decent birthday gift for me.

*“Whatever other girls have, my Sophia deserves too!”*

Watching him lie in an urgent care bed with acute gastritis from pure exhaustion, my heart had ached with deep affection.

I thought I had found real love.

Turns out, our bond could survive poverty, but it couldn't survive prosperity.

It was time to cut the cord.

I picked up my phone and dialed an old craftsman I had known for over a decade.

"Master Vance, remember the technical draft I reviewed with you earlier? I need your help with something."

Since they loved stealing so much, I was more than happy to feed their little fantasy.

Let's see if their ride-or-die romance holds up when the bills come due.

Julian realized the catch faster than I expected.

The minute he stepped through the front door, he demanded the core data.

"Drop the act, Sophia. Hand over the structural formulas for the blueprint. I know you have them."

The precision math determined the exact angle, facet cut, and tension pressure of the mount.

Without those parameters, even if they had the sapphire in hand, it was impossible to replicate the render shown on the projector.

When Julian copied the visual layers, he couldn't find the numbers.

Because those numbers were kept entirely in my head.

My family had run an artisanal jewelry lineage for generations; we had our own trade secrets for facet math.

When I drew the concept, the calculations were already locked in my memory.

Out of professional instinct, I never wrote them down digitally.

I hadn't expected that casual habit to turn into the ultimate trap.

Looking at his stormy expression, I offered a light, mocking smile.

"You want my measurements? Keep dreaming."

"What makes you think I would ever lift a finger to help a thief?"

Julian sneered, his lip curling in contempt.

"Aren't you a thief yourself?"

"If you hadn't framed her for academic fraud back in college, she never would have been forced to drop out!"

"You stole her future, Sophia! You owe her this!"

I stared at him, stunned. "Framed her? What garbage are you spewing? She was caught red-handed!"

Julian cast a look of utter disgust over me and whipped out his phone.

"You really won't admit it until the evidence hits you in the face, will you?"

He hit play on an audio clip.

*"Yes... yes, Sophia paid me to report Chloe to the dean. She was the one who told me to slip the stolen design into Chloe's folder."*

The voice was instantly recognizable—it belonged to Chloe’s former dorm roommate.

I frowned, my tone turning dangerously calm.

"Why should I confess to a crime I never committed? Let's bring her here right now and settle this to her face!"

Julian shoved me away with impatient fury.

"Stop the theatricals! I'm warning you: even without your precious data, we'll get the piece made. Don't flatter yourself into thinking the world stops spinning without your little tricks!"

His push sent me stumbling back hard against the sharp edge of the coffee table. The wood sliced open my forearm, and warm blood trickled down my skin.

Julian merely scowled at the blood with annoyed disgust.

"Still playing the victim? Finding out the truth made every single day living with you feel completely sickening!"

He slammed the door behind him and vanished.

I pulled myself up using the edge of the table.

Calmly, I pulled out the first-aid kit and bandaged the cut on my arm.

My illusions about this relationship were utterly dead.

When the hammer came down, I wouldn't spare them an ounce of mercy.

As for that audio recording Julian played—it was laughable.

Only an idiot like Julian would fall for such an amateur setup.

Since Chloe and her old roommate loved performing so much, I'd gladly drag them out into the blazing sun under the crime of criminal defamation.

During the days I spent recovering, the industry was buzzing with news.

Elsa had taken a massive liking to Chloe, visibly pouring resources into promoting her as the hot new prodigy.

Through mutual contacts, I saw Elsa repeatedly liking and commenting on Chloe's flashy social media posts.

Chloe's fame was skyrocketing like a bonfire soaked in gasoline, but I wasn't in a hurry.

In fact, I wanted that fire to burn higher, hotter, and louder.

Without genuine skill to back it up, could Chloe actually handle the heat?

The day of the luxury gala finally arrived, and my VIP invitation arrived on schedule.

The moment I stepped into the grand hall, whispers and sizing-up glances locked onto me.

"Did you hear? Right after Julian broke things off with Sophia, he and Chloe went down to City Hall and got married!"

"Seven years as a girlfriend versus getting a wedding ring in less than a month... says a lot about true love, doesn't it?"

"Her character must be terrible. Chloe mentioned her former boss spent years sabotaging her out of sheer jealousy..."

Over the past month, Julian hadn't bothered hiding his relationship with Chloe at all. Naturally, gossip spread like wildfire.

Some petty acquaintances even made veiled comments about how I had lost both my man and my career in one fell swoop.

I maintained my silent, elegant poise, patiently waiting for the curtain to rise on the main event.

Under the glare of flashing cameras and dazzling lights, Chloe stood proudly beside Elsa, personally carrying the custom velvet display case containing the necklace.

A wave of polite gasps rippled through the audience.

Then, a seasoned jeweler leaned in and whispered, "Wait... does the setting look slightly off from the original rendering?"

Panic flickered across Chloe’s face, but she snapped defensively.

"How could it be off?"

"It's just the lighting and the angle!"

To prove her point, she reached down, picked up the mounted necklace, and held the Heart of the Ocean up toward the chandelier.

A split second later, a crisp, sharp *snap* echoed across the hall.

The ten-million-dollar sapphire slipped clean out of its tension prongs and crashed violently onto the marble floor.