I Will Clear Evelyn's Name!

Alexander's assistant remained silent. He simply fixed Julian with an icy, penetrating stare, the silent pressure to get into the car overwhelming.

Shaken to his core by the photographs, Julian had no choice but to comply.

The car door closed with a solid thud behind him. As he lifted his gaze, his breath hitched. A man sat across from him, his presence commanding and intensely formidable. The dim interior shadows obscured his features, but his eyes burned with a fierce, unsettling intensity.

"Tell me," the man's voice was steady, unhurried, yet it brooked no argument. "Who instructed you to frame Evelyn?"

Julian's pulse hammered wildly in his ears. He struggled to maintain his composure, forcing an air of confusion. "I... I don't know what you're talking about."

Alexander let out a quiet, mocking laugh. "Is that so?" He leaned back slightly, his tone dropping to a temperature as cold as the car's interior. "Very well. Since you claim not to understand, I won't press you on that matter."

A flicker of relief passed over Julian's face.

It lasted only a second. Alexander's voice cut through the silence again, measured and deliberate. "If you refuse to discuss Evelyn, then let us discuss another matter entirely."

A file was slid across the leather seat into Julian's lap.

"You were quite a celebrated designer five years ago. Enjoyed a certain level of fame." Alexander paused, his gaze unwavering. "But what most of the public never knew was that every one of your so-called masterpieces came from another's hand. Your ghost designer. Seraphina Nash."

Julian's breath hitched. His fingers twitched against the smooth cover of the file. His throat went dry. "W-what are you implying?" His voice was a strained whisper.

Alexander didn't blink. "Seraphina came from nothing. A gravely ill mother. Mounting hospital debts. You saw her raw talent, her potential, and you exploited it. You had her create while you took all the credit and the glory."

Julian's face turned ashen.

Alexander continued, his tone sharpening like a blade. "Then she realized the magnitude of her mistake. She wanted out. She even considered going public with the truth."

Alexander's gaze intensified as Julian visibly crumbled. "You were terrified the truth would destroy your carefully constructed reputation. So, you pushed Seraphina from that building. She survived, but remains in a vegetative state to this day. She has never woken up. Without her, your work plummeted in quality, and your fame evaporated."

He drummed his fingers lightly against his leg. "Am I mistaken about any of this, Julian?"

As the final words hung in the air, the assistant flung the photographs onto the floor at Julian's feet.

They showed Seraphina Nash, pale and unmoving in a sterile hospital bed.

Julian's breath seized. His heart pounded against his ribs. This was impossible. No one was supposed to know.

He wanted to deny it, to scream his innocence. But the moment he opened the file Alexander had given him, the last vestiges of his resistance shattered completely.

Alexander's voice remained chillingly level. "This evidence is more than sufficient to ensure you spend the rest of your life in prison, is it not?"

Julian broke. His hands clawed at his hair as violent sobs wracked his body. "I was wrong! I admit it! The thing with Evelyn... I had no choice! Someone made me do it!"

Alexander didn't flinch. "You know what is required of you now."

Julian barely hesitated. He swallowed the lump of terror in his throat and nodded frantically. "Okay! I'll talk! I'll do whatever you want! I will clear Evelyn's name!"