Married First, Loved Later : A Flash Marriage with My Ex's 'Uncle' novel Chapter 508

Chapter 508: A Blatant Reversal of Truth

Victoria’s designs had been kept in the Morris family for so many years that even if Selina was certain they were Victoria’s work, she had no proof.

Did she really think that by making a scene, people would just believe her?

With that thought, Angela’s confidence grew.

"Sister, I don’t know why you’re doing this, but I do know that Mom is a very talented woman. A few design drafts mean nothing to her—she would never need to plagiarize."

Selina’s lips curved in a mocking smile. "Angela, you claim to be my full-blooded sister, so tell me—this ’Mom’ you’re talking about, who exactly are you referring to?"

For a moment, the surroundings fell silent, the reporters’ curiosity spiking.

Selina’s tone turned cold. "I’m saying Hannah stole my mother’s designs, yet as her daughter, you show no concern at all. Instead, after only meeting Hannah a handful of times, you’re already calling her ’Mom.’"

Angela’s heart sank. She had slipped—forgotten her cover in a moment of carelessness. Quickly, she forced a smile.

"Sister, it’s because I know Mrs. Morris. She’s not that kind of person. She’s genuinely talented and gifted. Besides, all of Mother’s inheritance was left to you, so naturally her design drafts should be in your possession. Yet you’re insisting Mrs. Morris plagiarized them... I think there must be some misunderstanding."

On the surface, Angela seemed to be giving Selina a way out, even offering her an easy step down.

As long as Selina said it was a misunderstanding, then it would be a misunderstanding, and Morris Group could still proceed peacefully with the Turner Group signing.

But if Selina kept pushing, she’d be branded as "unreasonable, jealous, and selfish," while the Morris family could claim they had treated this daughter with nothing but kindness.

Angela’s eyes gleamed with smug satisfaction. She was certain Selina would back down—only to hear Selina let out a soft, derisive laugh.

Selina’s voice was calm, almost indifferent, as she raised her gaze. "Since you know Mrs. Hannah so well, then tell me—when exactly did she design this jewelry?"

Angela sighed helplessly. "Sister, what’s the point of getting hung up on that... Fine, I’ll tell you. It was because Morris Group was in trouble, and Mrs. Morris offered to help. She stayed up three nights in a row to finish these designs."

"The whole Morris family was grateful to her, and as a member of the family, I was moved as well. I personally watched her draw these designs, so please—don’t accuse her of plagiarism."

Some of the reporters even seemed quietly touched.

Mrs. Hannah had only been married into the Morris family for a few days, yet she was already working tirelessly for them. And Angela seemed like such a good child.

"If Miss Morris personally saw her draw them, then plagiarism is impossible."

"Exactly. Mrs. Morris worked three nights straight on these designs—the whole family saw it. And the fact that Turner Group agreed to partner with them proves the designs couldn’t be stolen; otherwise Turner Group would never have agreed."

Angela gave a magnanimous smile. "Sister, even if you don’t trust Mrs. Morris, or me, surely you trust Dad? He’s already said—"

"That’s odd," Selina cut in lazily, pulling a document from her bag. "If Mrs. Hill only stayed up these past few nights to create these designs, then why are they identical to my mother’s work from twenty-two years ago? Don’t tell me Mrs. Hill and my mother share some sort of psychic connection."

Whoosh—

The document opened to a page.

Angela’s heart lurched. No! She immediately glanced toward the nearby bodyguards, but it was too late—

The page had already been turned.

One by one, the fully completed blueprints appeared before the crowd—each more refined and polished than Hannah’s, the completion level far higher. The paper was yellowed with age, carrying a faint scent of ink and books—the kind of smell only found in sheets that had been locked away in a cabinet for years.

On them was a date—twenty-two years ago—and Victoria’s own handwritten signature.

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