Chapter 83

The announcement sparked an uproar that rippled through the hall. People's curiosity quickly snowballed into a chorus of speculation.

"Why do these paintings look almost the same?"

"It feels like the same artist painted both pieces."

"That's right! Notice how the petals are outlined and how the whole image comes together. They're practically from the same painter!"

The rising whispers reached Leyla's ears, and color drained from her face. Jeffry and Hector no longer crossed her mind. Escaping this place was the only thought pressing against her chest. Everything else could wait.

Yet,before she couldslip past the crowd, a slender but unyielding hand clampedaround her arm.

"Running off so soon?" Eliana's lips curled up, but her voice carried a dangerous edge.

Normally, she wouldn't waste time dragging someone down in public, but Leyla had crossed the line by stealing Carl's design for her own advantage.

When hardship fell on the Murray family, Leyla had been the first to abandon them. Now that opportunity was at stake, she dared to crawl back-and claim Carl's work as hers.

She clung when it benefited her, discarded when it didn't. The world didn't bend so easily to that kind of selfishness.

This wasn't about petty humiliation. Eliana wanted fairness restored.

"Get your hands off me!" Leyla snapped in a low voice, her eyes glittering with fury beneath the makeup,though her tone lacked courage.

With a calm, almost mocking smile, Eliana replied, "I'll let you walk away. Just not this moment." While speaking, she cast a knowing look at Carl.

Catching her signal, Carl moved toward Tristan and Davin without hesitation.

Leyla's first instinct was to reach out and stop him. However, Eliana's grip on her arm was unyielding, giving her no room to break free.

Any attempt to push forward was instantly shut down.

Frustration welled up inside Leyla as she watched Carl already launching into an explanation for Tristan and Davin.

Davin's expression darkened as his brows drew together. "Wait a minute. Are you telling us Leyla stole your idea?"

Carl replied without flinching, "She didn't just take my concept. She recreated my entire painting. There's an identical painting sitting in my room right now. If you need proof, I can have someone bring it over."

Davin opened his mouth to respond, but a sudden thought made him pause.

Pulling out his phone, he scrolled through his gallery and held the screen out to Carl. "Do you recognize this one?"

One glance was enough for Carl to recognize the painting. "That design came from me too, but those brushstrokes aren't mine. Someone else painted it."

In other words, another blatant plagiarism.

Davin's expression grew even darker.

Realization dawned for Tristan, who now saw the direction Eliana wanted to steer this confrontation. He couldn't hide his amusement. Anything with her at the center had a way of pullinghim in.

He spoke up, saying, "Let's not jump to conclusions without proof. Since today's event is tied to Pearson Group's latest launch... Mr. Murray, if you're willing, let's get that painting brought here."

"Absolutely!" Carl wasted no time pulling out his phone and punched in Jordy's number, his tone brisk. "Bring the painting right away. Yes, the one on the desk dated the first of this month."

"Right away!" Jordy ended the call and rushed off to retrieve it.

Luckily, the Murray estate sat only a short drivefrom the exhibition hall, and with clear roads, twenty minutes would be more than enough.

Tristan shared a quick glance with Rocco, who instantly got the message and hurried backstage. Rocco's voice rang out over the speakers. "Attention, everyone. Due to a recent development in the competition,we'll be delaying the announcement of the final winner by thirty minutes. We apologize for the unexpected wait and appreciate your patience."

That brief announcement sent a new wave of whispers rippling through the crowd. "Weren't they supposed to share the championship? Why is there trouble now?"

"Honestly, it's not surprising. Since this contest is about picking a lead designer, only one can win in the end. They have to make a decision."

Meanwhile,a few in the audience who knew the art world started putting the pieces together.

"Could it be that the paintings look too much alike?"

"Maybe we're looking at a case of plagiarism."

Speculation buzzed around the venue, but all eyes now watched for any hint about who would take the crown.

Finally, Eliana let go of Leyla's hand.

Whether Leyla stood there or not, the truth would surface all the same.

Still, Leyla refused to surrender.

She rushed toward Davin, voice trembling with uncertainty. "Mr. Gordon, please..."

Davin averted his eyes. "I've got nothing to say to you right now."

Suspicion kept him silent. Leyla would get nothing more from him until every piece of evidence was in place. A flicker of worry darkened Leyla's features. "Please, I'm begging you-don't let their lies fool you. I need you to believe me."

Davin answered without a trace of feeling, "No matter what the truth is, I'll uncover it soon enough.Lies or not, the facts won't stay hidden for long."

Leyla's fingers twisted together as she shot a desperate look at Carl.

Carl's expression remained icy, watching her like she was nothing more than a stranger.

Leyla's breath hitched. She'd sensed for a long time that he never truly accepted her.

Even so, she refused to stand idly by and do nothing. "Carl, could we have a word in private? I only need a minute."

"Say what you have to say."

"Let's step aside, just for a second."

"There's no need for secrets. If you've got something to share, spit it out."

Leyla bit back her frustration and said, "I need to tell you something important. It's about Rowell. Aren't you the least bit curious?"

The moment she brought up Rowell Murray, Carl's another brother, Carl paused, weighing her words,before finally walking with Leyla to a quiet corner.

Carl looked at her with little warmth. "Well? I'm listening."

Leyla clung to Carl's sleeve and said, "You already know my entry borrowed from your earlier work, don't you?"

"Borrowed, you say?" Carl let out a sharp laugh, skepticism written across his face. "Are you sure you didn't just take it outright?"

Years of hearing his biting remarks had taught Leyla how to mask her pain. She managed a strained grin and said, "That's right, I admit I copied. I'm only asking you to let it slide this one time. Think back to the days when we still called each other family. I swear I won't touch your work ever again."

"Family? Perhaps that word meant something before you made my mom put her name on those disownment papers. Whatever was left between us died that day."

Leyla let go of her hand, her voice trembling. "But if I tell you what's been holding Rowell back all this time-what's really kept him from makingit in the showbiz-would you help me, just this once?"

A flicker of surprise crossed Carl's face. "You're saying you actually know?"

"I do. But you' have to give me your word first. Otherwise, Rowell might never get his shot, and he'll be stuck playing bit parts forever."

Carl's stare grew sharper. "So you're threatening me now?"

"It isn't blackmail. I'm offering you a fair exchange. Does the deal interest you or not?"