The comments on the post were overwhelmingly positive, with Finesse Bloom receiving significant praise for winning the royal princess's favor and securing a showcase opportunity at the state banquet. The brand showed immense promise. However, several sarcastic comments targeted Eternal Hope:
“[They even lack the courage to respond to Finesse Bloom's challenge. The top luxury brand in the country? What a joke!]”
“[Is Eternal Hope afraid of being outdone by Finesse Bloom, hence their silence?]”
“[The designer in charge of the royal order at Eternal Hope is a newbie called Maeve. She doesn't even have many famous works. That explains their silence.]”
“[LOL, they can't muddle through by playing dumb like this. The whole world will see the livestream the day after tomorrow. I think some people are going to be a global laughingstock.]”
More sarcastic comments followed. The post quickly gained traction, becoming the third trending topic on social media. The buzz intensified, yet Eternal Hope remained silent.
Public opinion overwhelmingly leaned towards Eternal Hope having "chickened out." Nearly half of the customers who had appointments with Eternal Hope for their gowns cancelled at the last minute. If a new brand like Finesse Bloom could overshadow Eternal Hope, the established brand risked significant downgrading at the state banquet—a devastating blow to its decade-long reputation.
As crisis loomed, a pall of gloom settled over the designer's office on the 21st floor. The usual laughter and chatter ceased. Maeve left the company, met with angry stares from her colleagues. A car pulled up beside her; the window rolled down.
"Maeve, it's been a long time," Karen said, her chin raised disdainfully. "Thanks to you, I've been to the hospital… a lot recently."
Maeve replied coldly, "You mean a plastic surgery hospital?"
Karen's face hardened; she subconsciously touched her recovering nose. "Huh, you're very funny," she sneered. "However, I'm not here for chitchat. I'm offering you a way out… out of kindness. After the livestream the day after tomorrow, you won't be able to stay at Eternal Hope, right? I can let you work at my company, but your work will be used anonymously. At least it'll put your 'garbage' to some use."
Maeve felt patronized. "Karen, you think too highly of yourself. I wouldn't go to your trash company. My work under your designers' names? Not happening."
"Do you think you have other choices after the day after tomorrow? No famous design company will want a designer globally notorious for plagiarism," Karen warned.
Maeve frowned. "You have no shame! You're the ones who plagiarized!"
"Is that so? Do you have any evidence?" Karen laughed arrogantly. "Others will only think you're talking nonsense. No one will believe you. This is hilarious." Karen confidently thought, If Maeve could prove our plagiarism, she would have done it long ago. Sadly, she has no evidence.
A loud slap landed on Karen's cheek. Tears of laughter streamed down Karen's face as she stared at Maeve in disbelief. "Maeve, how dare you hit me!"
"Because you just reminded me," Maeve said casually, waving her hand. "I told you in the basement I'd hit you every time I see you. By the way, you're really thick-skinned. My hand hurts." With that, Maeve got into her car, leaving Karen's angry cries behind.
Karen banged on the car window, her face contorting with hatred. I swear I'll ruin her reputation this time, she thought darkly.
The taxi stopped in front of Maeve's apartment building. Unexpectedly, she saw Byron by the flower bed.
"B-Byron?" she murmured, quickening her pace. "Why are you here?"
Byron, in a dark windbreaker, looked impeccably handsome. "Huh? So I can't come?" he asked.
"That's not what I meant…" Maeve shook her head. "I'm just surprised. Why aren't you home?"
Byron's gaze was cold. "I'm here to check if you've broken my expensive furniture."
"No!" Maeve insisted. She brought him upstairs. The apartment was sparsely furnished.
In the guest bedroom, Byron raised an eyebrow. "I'll sleep here tonight."
Maeve was stunned. "Aren't you going back to your manor?"
"The manor bed is not as comfortable as this one," he replied.
Byron then asked, "Do you know how much my private doctor costs me?"
"How much?" she asked, puzzled.
"Millions of dollars a year."
Maeve gasped. "H-How much do I have to pay him for the medical fees?"
A smile flickered across Byron's eyes. "I can waive your medical fees, but…" He paused, looking meaningfully at the guest bedroom. Maeve understood. She hesitated, fearing a repeat of her past experiences at Nightfall Manor.
Silence stretched. Byron's eyes grew cold. "Why? Are you unhappy that I'm staying?" he asked.
Before Maeve could answer, the doorbell rang. Relief washed over her. "I'll get the door," she said, escaping to the door. Byron watched her go with a dark expression.
Maeve opened the door to find Jeff, looking haggard and drunk. "Why are you here?" she asked, her face ashen.
"You actually moved to the opposite apartment," Jeff said, his voice thick with longing. "Did you do it on purpose? Want to get back together?"
The smell of alcohol made Maeve recoil. "If I knew you lived here, I wouldn't have moved here. Are you done? Get your hand off the door." What a bad day. Why is this bastard living opposite me? she thought.
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