Chapter 52 What Would Come, Would Come
Jasmine had not expected to score so high. She was so stunned that she blanked out for a moment. I
can’t believe she not only did not give me grief out of spite, but she also gave me such a high score.
Thus, she gave a deep bow. Her bow was mainly to show her gratitude toward Camila for being fair
and not holding any grudges against her. Afterward, the live show continued. There were a total of ten
designers, and Camila had already seen nine of them. Even so, she had yet to see Lyla’s design. She
was quite curious about what kind of designs Lyla could come up with. However, she didn’t know what
Lyla was trying to do after pulling that farce today. Therefore, she was feeling rather anxious about it.
Finally, she finished scoring nine of the designers. Then, she massaged her temples. After watching
the runway for so long, her eyes were beginning to tire. Silas had been watching Camila the entire
time. He didn’t even spare a single glance at the fashion show going on. Listening to the suggestions
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtand opinions she gave those designers, he found his perception of her professionalism increasing the
more he listened.
He, who usually couldn’t bear staying at gatherings for more than an hour, had stayed in his seat for
nearly two hours now. Meanwhile, the host smiled again and introduced the final designer, “Next, let us
welcome our last designer, Lyla Brooklyn, and her design team! Their works have been well-received
among the audience and have taken the top spot among the rankings! Now, let us welcome them
onstage!” After that, a gentle melody played by a harp sounded throughout the front hall, matching
perfectly with the models who came walking out slowly.
The four models wore four different styles of dresses, each incorporating the four gentlemen of the
seasons: the plum blossom, the orchid, the bamboo, and the chrysanthemum. The colors and designs
of each outfit were distinct and stood apart from each other-they were elegant and noble whilst still
incorporating the cultural heritage of the country. As soon as they appeared on stage, it gave off a
dazzling feeling. When Silas heard Lyla’s name, he scowled. Why is she here too? However, his
expression changed completely when he saw the models walking out. Then, he took out his phone and
looked through it. At the same time, Xavier leaned over, asking, “President Nolan, don’t you think the
plum blossom-themed design looks awfully similar to the design in Miss Brooklyn’s portfolio?”
He glanced at Xavier. “You think so too?” Xavier nodded, but his gaze did not leave the model. “It’s
identical.” Just then, Silas found the picture of Camila’s design on his phone. It really is like two peas in
a pod-they were exactly the same! This is clearly plagiarism! He cast his glance at Camila and saw that
she had already stood up. “Stop!” Everybody was confused by her actions, and they all looked at her.
Camila was so angry that her face looked pale. I was wondering what kind of design Lyla could come
up with. Instead, she turned out to be so brainless! It’s blatant copy-and-paste; she didn’t even make
any changes to it whatsoever! At the same time, the model stopped in her tracks and stared at Camila
suspiciously. The host didn’t understand what was going on. Walking over to her, he asked, “Miss
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmBrooklyn, what’s wrong?” “Whose design is this?” Camila raged. The host seemed taken aback for a
moment. “All four designs were designed by Miss Lyla Brooklyn.” Then, she said, “Bring her here!” Lyla,
who had been watching everything going on in the front hall from backstage, couldn’t help feeling
uneasy. She had assumed that Camila was a participant. Therefore, she was banking on the fact that
when Camila claimed she had stolen her designs, she could counter by saying that Camila was
adopting malicious methods to kick her out of the competition by deliberately slandering her. After all,
Camila had no proof. How could I have known that she turned out to be a judge? Thus, when she
heard the host asking for her to go on stage, she knew that what would come, would come-the
inevitable was about to happen. Taking a deep breath, she glanced at Sarah, who was standing beside
her. Sarah came over immediately and helped her walk out to the front hall, step by step. Lyla was
limping; the slap mark on her face was still clear as day. She had a band-aid on her forehead. No
matter who saw her current state, they would probably ask after her.
The host frowned slightly and asked in a gentle voice, “Miss Brooklyn, what happened to you?”