Page 7 of Forever His Favorite
“Jewelry Industry Shocked by Public Feud: Amelia Jones Blames Emily Crawford and Sebastian Graves for Career Downfall.”
“Is Amelia Jones Being Silenced? Accuses Sebastian Graves and Emily Crawford of Destroying Her Career!”
“Amelia Jones Speaks Out: ‘I Refused to Take the Blame for Stolen Designs… Now They’re Ruining Me!’”
“Amelia Jones Accuses Emily Crawford and Sebastian Graves of Plotting Revenge”
Emily’s eyes darted across the glowing screen, the bold, sensationalized headlines screaming back at her, painting her as the villain. Each word seemed to press heavier against her chest. Her lips pressed together so tightly they stung, and her throat went dry, rough like sandpaper. Frustration surged hot, but beneath the sting of disbelief, a sharper current of determination began to run through her.
She sat up straighter on the edge of the bed, the duvet pooling around her waist. With a sharp inhale, she grabbed her phone with both hands.
She opened her social media app. Her thumbs flew across the screen in quick, frantic taps. Every tap echoed the pounding of her heart as she typed her statement, attached the photos, and reread them twice before hittingpost.
Her pulse thundered in her ears, drowning out everything else. She barely had time to breathe before a heavy banging rattled the front door, reverberating through the quiet house.
Emily froze. Her head snapped up, eyes wide, the glow of her phone screen reflecting in their glassy surface. Her brows drew together in confusion. It was early evening—Sebastian never came home this soon.
She slid off the bed, her bare feet brushing against the cold hardwood floor. Wrapping her arms around herself, she hurried down the staircase, her steps echoing softly in the silence. Reaching the entryway, she hesitated only a beat before unlatching the lock and pulling the heavy door open.
Her eyes widened instantly.
“Jeremy?”
Shock flickered across her face, her hand tightening on the edge of the doorframe for support. “How did you know I’m living here now?”
Jeremy’s blank stare met hers. “At the party, you dumped it on me that you’re married to Sebastian. Where else should I expect you to live but his home?”
Emily forced a tense smile, her fingers nervously combing through her hair, strands slipping between her trembling hands. “Sorry… I didn’t tell you earlier.”
Jeremy’s glare hardened, his eyes narrowing into slits. “I’ll talk about that later… in very much detail.”
Emily shuddered, her shoulders giving a slight tremor as her fingers dug into the edge of the door. ‘I really should’ve told Jeremy earlier. Now he’s going to taunt me for the rest of my life.’
But before she could respond, Jeremy’s tone shifted, his voice tightening as his brows pulled together.
“Did you see the announcement Amelia posted? Jacob told me there were crowds of Amelia’s fans outside his company today, making a scene, demanding he drag you out and let them deal with you. It’s a good thing you took the day off.”
Emily’s lips parted, but instead of answering, she silently handed him her phone. The screen glowed in the dim light of the entryway.
Jeremy frowned, his expression darkening as his thumb scrolled. Confusion flickered, then his brows shot upward. His head snapped toward her, disbelief flashing across his face.
“You announced that you’re Empress?” he asked, his voice sharp with shock.
Emily nodded once. She turned and walked toward the living room. Jeremy followed close behind, his shoes thudding softly against the polished floor.
“I wanted to keep it a secret,” she admitted, lowering herself onto the couch, smoothing her palms across her knees. “But in the end, I had no choice. I’m tired of her taking advantage of me for years.”
Jeremy dropped heavily onto the opposite couch cushion, his elbows digging into his thighs as his eyes devoured the words on the screen. His frown deepened with every swipe.
On the screen were the images she’d posted—Amelia’s so-called “original” submissions for Lucas’s projects, set side by side with Emily’s already copyrighted designs, timestamped and filed years before Amelia had ever touched them.
Beneath the evidence, Emily’s words glared back:
‘I let Miss Amelia Jones get away with stealing my designs because I was stupidly in love. I thought making my ex-boyfriend happy by giving him everything I created would be the best idea in the world. I wanted to see him succeed. I didn’t expect Miss Jones to abuse my generosity, break into my computer, make small edits, and submit my work as her own. When I confronted her at the party, she called me a liar. Even my own boyfriend refused to believe me.
I was humiliated, fired from his company, and left with nothing. Still, I decided to let go of the matter.
She should have laid low like thieves do but instead, she has gone so far that she’s begun believing her own lies, paradingherself as the real designer. I have no choice anymore but to reveal everything.
