Chapter 2

Lane Holdings… Richard Lane…

The name hit my mind like a thunderclap.

Wasn't that the kind of top-tier family empire that only existed in financial headlines, the kind powerful enough to shake the whole country with a single move?

I was the Lane family's granddaughter?

This absurd, straight-out-of-a-novel twist was too much for me to process.

I shook my head. "No way. You have to be mistaken."

The old butler didn't explain much. He just gently placed a car key and a black card into my freezing hand.

"Miss, this is your car and your spending money. Mr. Lane said you've suffered all these years." He said.

I lowered my head and saw the Aston Martin logo on the key. As for the black card, I'd seen it in magazines before. It was a Centurion Black Card with no spending limit.

It all felt terrifyingly real.

The old butler helped me into the warm, dry back seat of the Rolls-Royce.

The car drove off smoothly, leaving that awards hall where I'd been ruined far behind.

I leaned back against the soft leather seat, my mind still a complete mess.

Overnight, I'd gone from being the internet's favorite plagiarist to the heiress of a top family?

What the hell was this? Did fate kick me into hell, then casually yank me back into heaven?

I pulled out my phone. Edward and Sylvia were still trending, and countless people were praising their "brave truth-telling" and their "storybook romance."

Meanwhile, my account was flooded with curses and abuse.

Looking at those filthy comments, I felt as if an invisible hand had wrapped around my heart and squeezed so hard I couldn't breathe.

Five years of youth. Five years of giving everything. And this was what I got in return.

Why?

Why did they get to step on me and enjoy the glory that should've been mine?

Why did I have to be nailed to a pillar of shame with no chance of ever getting back up?

No. I refused to accept this.

A monstrous wave of hatred surged up from the bottom of my heart, almost swallowing my sanity whole.

Tears, mingled with humiliation, slid down my face before I could stop them.

The old butler caught sight of me in the rearview mirror, then handed me a tablet. "Miss, this contains all the information on Edward's studio."

I took the tablet. It listed the studio's ownership structure, financial status, and even every project he was currently negotiating.

"What do you want to do?" the old butler asked.

I wiped away my tears. All that remained in my eyes was cold hatred.

I said, "I'm going live.

"I'm ripping those two bastards apart in front of the whole internet."

Half an hour later, a livestream called Charlotte Tells the Truth quietly went live.

There had been zero promotion, but the name "Charlotte" itself was like a giant traffic magnet. In seconds, thousands upon thousands of viewers poured in.

[That plagiarist still has the nerve to stream?]

[Get out of the design world!]

[Come watch the clown show!]

The comments were full of nonstop abuse.

I ignored it all and simply pointed the camera at myself, showing a pale but strangely calm face.

I said, "Hello, everyone. I'm Charlotte Lane.

"I know the whole internet is cursing me right now. But what is the truth, really?"

I didn't cry, didn't make a scene, didn't play the victim. I just calmly told the story of everything between Edward and me, from college until now.

I did his laundry, cooked for him, gave up graduate school for him, and sold my mother's keepsake for him...

Then I brought out the countless design drafts I'd made for him over the years, all stamped with dates and times from every revision.

I said, "The piece Rebirth took a full year of my work, from the very first idea to the final draft. Here are all the creation records, down to the exact day and minute."

"As for the so-called evidence Edward and Sylvia showed, it was nothing more than one final rendering I had sent them.

"And Sylvia? She was my best friend. I shared every design with her the second I finished it. I never thought that trust would become the weapon she used against me."

My voice stayed calm, but every word landed like a hammer on the hearts of everyone watching.

The livestream had already passed ten million viewers.

And the mood in the comments was starting to shift.