Chapter 73: The Fall of Missy Hawthorne

Back inside the Pavilion, an unusual silence filled the room. The chatter that had filled the air moments ago had vanished. Every guest, every judge, every assistant was staring toward the giant LED screen that dominated the stage.

Missy didn’t notice. She walked toward Raymond, her expression carefully composed. "Dad," she said softly, "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset Sister."

Raymond turned slowly. His face was terrifyingly calm. Then, without warning, his hand struck her across the face.

The sound echoed through the ballroom like a gunshot.

Missy’s head snapped sideways. A bright red handprint bloomed across her cheek. She stared at him, stunned. "D... Dad?"

Emily hurried over, her voice low and urgent. "Don’t say anything," she whispered. "Just look."

She turned Missy toward the massive screen.

Missy frowned, confusion flickering across her face. Then her eyes widened. The screen showed the backstage room she had just left.

"No..." she whispered.

The recording began to play. Every single conversation. Every confession. Every word. Perfectly clear.

Missy’s breathing stopped.

Then Adam Gray walked calmly onto the stage, a microphone in his hand. The lights caught the sharp lines of his suit, the calm authority in his posture. He looked directly at her.

"Miss Hawthorne," he said, his voice carrying easily through the silent hall.

The entire Pavilion fell still.

"Everyone," Adam continued, "just heard your conversation with Miss Jodey Hale." His tone was calm, almost gentle, but every word struck like a blade.

"They heard how you planned to sabotage my final design. They heard how confidential competition designs were leaked to you before the Bright Competition even began. They heard... everything."

Missy’s face lost all color. Her lips parted, but no sound came out. "No..." she whispered. "I... I didn’t..."

Her voice disappeared.

Because for the first time in her life, there was no lie strong enough to save her.

The silence that followed was absolute. The empire she had built on deceit, manipulation, and stolen brilliance began to crumble—not with an explosion, but with the quiet, devastating sound of truth.

The Royal Pavilion remained frozen in silence.

Not a single breath disturbed the air.

Missy stood rooted to the marble floor, her body rigid as stone. The color had drained from her face, leaving her skin ashen beneath the chandeliers’ unforgiving light.

Her mind spun in frantic circles, refusing to accept what had just unfolded before hundreds of witnesses.

Every carefully constructed lie—shattered.

Every polished image—cracked beyond repair.

Every ounce of pride—crushed beneath the weight of her own recorded voice.

Years of deception had collapsed in minutes.

The grand doors swung open.

Two uniformed police officers entered, their footsteps echoing across the silent ballroom. Behind them, a female officer escorted a woman in handcuffs—wrists bound, shoulders hunched, mascara streaking down her cheeks.

Jodey Hale.

The moment Jodey’s gaze landed on Adam seated on the stage, her eyes widened in disbelief. Her lips parted, trembling.

"Adam?" Her voice cracked. "What... what are you doing here?"

Then realization dawned—slow, terrible, inevitable.

Her expression crumbled like wet paper.

"Was this you?" she whispered. "You planned everything?"

Her voice rose, desperate. "Why? Why, Adam?"

Adam rolled his wheelchair forward with deliberate slowness. The wheels turned soundlessly across the polished floor.

When he stopped before her, there wasn’t the slightest trace of warmth left in his eyes. He looked at her as though she were a stranger—someone he’d never loved, never trusted, never believed in.

"Why?" He let out a cold, humorless laugh. "Did I ever ask you to cheat for me?"

Silence.

"No."

His voice dropped lower, colder. "Did I ever ask you to poison me?"

"No."

The word hung in the air like a blade.

"You wanted me dead." His gaze never wavered. "And now you have the audacity to ask me why?"

He leaned forward slightly, his voice cutting through the silence like ice.

"Who the hell do you think you are?"

Tears spilled down Jodey’s face. She shook her head frantically, her voice breaking into sobs.

"I’m sorry... Adam, I’m so sorry... Please..." She tried to step toward him, but the officer’s grip held her back.

"Please give me another chance. I’ll be good. I promise. I don’t want to go to jail. Adam, please..."

Adam didn’t even spare her another glance.

He turned toward the officers, his voice flat and final. "Officer. Please take her away."

The officer nodded. "Yes, Mr. Gray."

Jodey’s desperate pleas echoed through the ballroom as she was escorted toward the exit, her voice growing fainter with each step until the doors closed behind her, swallowing her cries.

The female officer turned toward Missy.

Her tone was polite but firm. "Miss Missy Hawthorne. Please come with us."

Missy’s eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat. "M-Me?" Her voice pitched higher. "I didn’t do anything! I didn’t know she poisoned Adam!"

She whirled toward Raymond, her father, desperation flooding her features. "Dad! Please! Tell them! I didn’t know anything about the poisoning!"

She turned to Emily, her mother. "Mom! Please tell them! I didn’t know!"

The officer remained calm, unmoved.

"Miss Hawthorne. We are not arresting you. We are taking you in for questioning. The recording that was played has been confiscated as evidence. It clearly contains your discussion regarding the sabotage of the Bright Competition. Please cooperate."

Missy’s breathing became uneven, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She looked around desperately, searching for someone—anyone—who would save her.

Her eyes finally landed on Layton.

"Layton..." Her voice broke. "Please help me... Please..."

Layton looked at her quietly. His expression was unreadable, his jaw tight. After a long pause, he spoke in an unusually calm tone.

"They’re not arresting you. They only want to question you. Go with them. Cooperate."

The officer nodded. "That’s correct."

Missy stared at him for several long seconds, her eyes searching his face for something—anything—that resembled the man who had once chosen her over Mindy.

But there was nothing. No warmth. No reassurance. Just cold, distant politeness.

She realized creating another scene would only make things worse.

Slowly, she nodded.

Before leaving, she looked toward Emily. "Mom..."

Emily forced herself to stay composed despite the panic clawing at her chest. "You’ll be fine. Just cooperate."

Missy nodded weakly.

Then, instinctively, her gaze shifted to Kelvin, standing near the edge of the crowd. His expression was blank, unreadable.

Their eyes met briefly. Neither spoke. The silence between them was louder than words.

Finally, Missy’s gaze shifted once more.

She saw Mindy.

Standing quietly beside Wade, her posture relaxed, her expression calm. A faint smirk rested on her lips—subtle, almost imperceptible, but unmistakable.

Something inside Missy snapped.

"MINDY!"

Every head in the ballroom turned.

She pointed furiously at Mindy, her voice shaking with rage. "Was this your plan? Did you do all this?"

Mindy looked at her as though she’d just heard something absurd. She let out a soft, incredulous scoff.

"Everyone just heard your conversation with Jodey." Her tone was light, almost amused. "How exactly could I have planned that? I don’t have as much free time as you. I don’t spend my days plotting against people." She paused, her gaze steady.

"My talent speaks for itself."

She took one calm step forward, her voice sharpening. "And tell me—what exactly would I gain by sabotaging you?"

The surrounding guests exchanged glances. Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Her question made perfect sense.

Missy gritted her teeth, her voice rising. "You wanted revenge! Because I used your mother’s designs!"

Before Mindy could respond, Wade stepped forward, his sharp voice cutting through the ballroom like a whip.

"If my sister wanted revenge, she would’ve reported you during the Bright Competition. Why would she wait this long?" He looked at Missy with open disdain. "Have you completely lost your mind?"

The crowd exchanged glances. Someone whispered, "He’s right... If she wanted revenge, she could’ve exposed everything long ago."

Heads nodded slowly. The logic was undeniable.

Only Adam remained silent, a quiet smile playing at the corners of his lips.

She waited because she wanted everyone involved to fall together.

Mindy simply looked at Missy, her expression calm, almost bored. "Stop wasting everyone’s time. A criminal should answer for her actions."

Missy glared at her with bloodshot eyes, her hands trembling at her sides. She knew—somehow, she knew—that Mindy was behind all of this. But she had no proof. Nothing. Just instinct and rage.

She lowered her head.

Then, silently, she followed the officers out of the Royal Pavilion.

Every camera followed her departure. Flashes erupted like fireworks. The once-glamorous socialite left under countless blinding lights, her head bowed, her shoulders hunched, her world crumbling with every step.

The ballroom gradually settled into uneasy quiet.

Raymond slowly walked toward Mindy, his face filled with hesitation, his hands trembling slightly. "Mindy... I..."

Before he could continue, Mindy calmly interrupted him.

"Mr. Hawthorne." Her voice was polite but distant. "You should go to your daughter. She needs you more."

Emma gently squeezed Mindy’s hand, her voice composed and firm. "Mr. Hawthorne. Stop wasting your time here."

Behind Raymond, Emily glared at both of them. Hatred flashed across her eyes—sharp, venomous—before disappearing almost instantly. She once again wore her pitiful, pleading expression.

"Mindy..." Her voice trembled.

"Please... Help Missy. You can ask Mr. Gray. He’ll surely listen to you. Missy has apologized so many times. It was all my fault. I gave those designs to her. She only wanted to help Raymond with the company."

Layla immediately stepped forward, her voice sharp. "And why exactly does that have anything to do with Mindy? You stole the designs. Your daughter cheated. Why are you asking the victim to save the culprit?"

Emily ignored Layla entirely, her gaze fixed on Mindy. "If you ask... I’m sure Mr. Gray will withdraw his statement."

Raymond slowly looked toward Mindy. Everyone respects her now. Hope—unexpected, desperate—appeared in his eyes. "She’s right, I’m sure Mr. Gray would help if you asked."

Mindy quietly stared at him.

For a brief second, she almost laughed.

Even now, Emily could still manipulate him so effortlessly.

She slowly shook her head. "Mr. Hawthorne. Missy isn’t my sister. I have no relationship with the Hawthorne family. I have no obligation to ask anyone for her." She paused, her gaze hardening. "And she should face the consequences of her actions."

She took one step closer, her voice dropping lower. "And honestly... Do you really think stealing my mother’s designs is the only thing they’ve taken? What else disappeared from my mother’s belongings... without you ever noticing?"

Her words hung in the air like a curse.

"You should go home. And check."

Emily’s entire body stiffened. Panic flashed across her face. "MINDY! If you don’t want to help, that’s your choice! But stop slandering me!"

She quickly turned toward Layton. "Layton. You have to help Missy."

Layton remained silent. His gaze rested on Mindy for several long seconds. She never looked back at him.

Finally, he turned toward Emily. "Let’s go."

Without another word, he walked away.

Hannah quietly watched him leave, slowly shaking her head. Disappointment filled her eyes.

Emily hurried after Layton, but Raymond didn’t move immediately. His mind replayed Mindy’s words.

"What else disappeared? Without you noticing?"

His expression slowly changed. A seed of doubt—small, fragile, but undeniable—had finally been planted.

Emily noticed it immediately. Her heartbeat quickened. She hurried toward him.

"Raymond. Don’t listen to her. Missy only wanted to help you. She has apologized countless times. She even landed in the hospital. Despite her health, she still worked day and night for today’s portfolio. Please... We have to help our daughter."

Raymond closed his eyes.

After a long silence, his expression softened once more. "Let’s go."

Emily secretly let out a relieved breath.

Together, they left the Pavilion.

Leon slowly returned to the stage alongside the host. The audience gradually settled down once again. Leon adjusted the microphone, his voice steady despite everything that had happened.

"Ladies and gentlemen... Today’s unexpected incident will be fully investigated. Maxine Magazine will cooperate with the authorities in every possible way."

He paused before continuing. "But the work of every designer who participated today deserves to be respected. They should not suffer because of one individual’s actions."

A round of applause spread across the hall.

Leon smiled.

"So... Let’s continue with what we all came here for. The results of the Maxine Magazine Portfolio."

The entire Pavilion instantly became silent once again.