Chapter 4

It wasn't long before Carly’s Atelier quietly opened its doors near the old theater corner.

Using my first big payout, I immediately filed for independent copyright registration for my designs.

That meant every piece I designed and every sketch I drew belonged to me legally. Anyone using them without authorization would be committing commercial copyright infringement.

However, the Vances had a sharper nose than I anticipated.

One afternoon, I was helping Mrs. Smith—one of the city's most influential high-society patrons—try on a newly restored vintage evening gown.

The brass bell at the entrance chimed suddenly.

In strutted Garrett, wearing a designer suit and sporting slicked-back, gelled hair.

He shoved his hands into his pockets, scanning my small boutique with a condescending sneer.

"Carly, look at you, hiding out here playing shopkeeper," Garrett sneered. "Left home for years and couldn't even bother to make a single phone call."

I gently smoothed the pleats on Mrs. Smith's skirt, my eyes turning dead cold: "Garrett, this is a private business establishment. Please leave."

"I'm your brother!" Garrett slammed his palm onto the display counter.

"Yael is attending the City Debutante Gala next week and she needs an exclusive gown. Don't sell this one to anyone else—pack it up for me right now. When Yael wins her award and boosts the Vance family name, it benefits you too."

Beside me, Mrs. Smith frowned deeply, her eyes flashing with unhidden disgust.

In elite social circles, this kind of entitled, bullyish behavior was considered the absolute height of trashiness.

"Give it to Yael for free?" I let out a light laugh. "Garrett, are you out of your mind?"

"Don't push your luck!" Garrett lost his temper on the spot, roaring.

"The money you make and the clothes you sew are supposed to support the family! Don't think I won't have Mom and Dad sue you in court for elder abandonment and get this trashy shop shut down!"

Garrett thought invoking "family" like he used to would bring me to my knees.

But I was no longer that helpless puppet.

I slowly pulled the hard-cover black journal out of the drawer and slammed it hard onto the table with a loud thwack.

"Sue me for abandonment? Shut down my shop?"

"Garrett, take a real good look. This documents every single fraudulent expense receipt Evelyn forged using my identity over the past sixteen years, along with three illegal high-interest loan agreements where she faked my minor signature!"

"Under state law, taking out debt under a minor child's name is explicitly classified as identity theft and financial fraud! Every single cent the Vance family leeched off my blood to fund your middle-class facade is documented right here. Do you want me to call the police right now, or should I print out copies and hand them to every socialite at the gala? Let's see how they feel about the dark, rotten debts hiding behind 'prestigious Yael's' family!"

Garrett's face instantly turned from bright red to ghostly white, his pointing finger trembling violently.

"You... you crazy psycho! You actually kept track of all this?"

"It's called settling the score."

I snapped the ledger shut, turned gracefully, and handed a business card to Mrs. Smith with both hands.

"Mrs. Smith, my apologies for the scene. This gown is custom-made exclusively for you and is fully registered under my copyright."

"As for those trying to steal other people's hard work—if he doesn't walk out right now, he'll be spending the night in a holding cell."

Garrett gritted his teeth, his eyes filled with pure terror.

"Carly Vance, just you wait!" Garrett threw out a weak threat before fleeing the shop in utter disgrace.

Garrett thought this was just a minor setback, completely unaware that the second he stepped into my shop today, he had personally handed the Vance family's ugliest secrets straight to the top tier of high society.