216 What Are You Doing Here

Nathanial glanced at Evelyn, his expression thoughtful as a memory surfaced. "Designing a gown single-handedly is a significant undertaking. However, Cassandra has allowed a generous timeframe. There's no cause for alarm. You will have ample opportunity to perfect it."

Given Cassandra's status as a global superstar, Evelyn conceded the logic. She released a slow breath, a trace of uncertainty lingering. "And my other projects?"

"I will manage all other responsibilities," Nathanial assured her without hesitation. "Your sole focus for the coming days should be Cassandra's dress."

His decisive words finally quieted her concerns.

For the next seven days, Evelyn lived in the design studio. She dedicated every waking moment to cutting fabric and perfecting the smallest details. Frequently, she became so absorbed in her work that meals were forgotten.

It was only Alexander's persistent phone calls that successfully pulled her away, forcing necessary breaks.

After several more days of intense, meticulous effort, Evelyn finally put down her tools. The dress was complete.

She took a step back, her eyes sweeping over the finished creation. A profound sense of satisfaction washed over her.

With Cassandra's red-carpet appearance drawing near, a spark of anticipation ignited within Evelyn. She couldn't suppress the hope of seeing her design showcased on such a prestigious stage. The idea sent a thrill coursing through her.

As evening deepened, the studio gradually emptied. Colleagues departed one by one.

"Evelyn, it's late. You should go home," a voice called from the doorway.

Evelyn nodded in acknowledgment. She then carefully covered the mannequin with a protective cloth and secured it inside the reinforced display cabinet.

The company provided high-security storage for valuable prototypes. She double-checked the lock, ensuring it was firmly engaged.

Approximately one hour after Evelyn's departure, a furtive figure slipped into the silent studio.

It was Genevieve. Her recent quietness wasn't a sign of reform; it was strategic patience, waiting for the perfect moment to execute the plan Cassandra had hinted at.

That moment was now. The very night Evelyn completed the dress, Genevieve decided to strike.

She moved through the dimly lit space with practiced ease, heading directly for the display cabinet. Using a spare key she had previously stolen from Nathanial, she silently turned the lock.

The soft click of the door opening was followed by a sharp intake of breath.

"How... how is this even possible?" she whispered, her eyes widening in stunned disbelief. "Evelyn created this... this masterpiece entirely alone?"

Genevieve's hands clenched into tight fists. A corrosive jealousy burned in her gaze.

The mere thought of Evelyn receiving acclaim for this dress twisted her stomach with pure, unadulterated rage.

No. She would never allow it.

Genevieve's expression hardened as a destructive idea crystallized in her mind. A slow, vindictive smile spread across her lips.

"Evelyn, talent means nothing. Your success ends tonight." The smirk on her face was cold and triumphant.

Meanwhile, standing outside the company building waiting for her ride, Evelyn shivered as a sudden chill swept over her. A sneeze escaped.

The night air was biting. She hurriedly checked her ride-hailing app, her frustration growing.

"It's too late. There are no available cars," she muttered to herself.

Alexander had explicitly told her to call him if she ever found herself stranded. He would come for her immediately.

But she hated being a burden.

As she stood there hesitating, uncertain, a sleek luxury car glided to a smooth stop directly in front of her.

The tinted window descended silently.

Evelyn's breath hitched. She found herself staring into a pair of intensely familiar eyes.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice laced with shock.