The Mocked Miss’s Hidden Crowns novel Chapter 1467

Every set of eyes in the room flicked between Emily and Sabina, the air thick with anticipation. Just ten minutes earlier, Jeva’s creative director had confirmed online that Emily’s dress was a fake. The tension crackled, everyone waiting for answers.

“You’re Jeva’s design director, and 'Flowers' is one of Ms. Tracing’s most cherished creations,” someone remarked quietly, barely above a whisper.

As chatter filled the room, a reporter finally stepped forward with a pointed question. “This gown is a masterpiece. There’s no way you wouldn’t know where it ended up. And…,” he trailed off for dramatic effect, then locked eyes with the director, “you tweeted personally not long ago—clear proof, you said, that Emily was wearing a counterfeit. So what changed in the last ten minutes? Why the sudden reversal?”

His gaze flicked to Kenneth and Emily, making it clear everyone suspected there was more to the story. It was obvious how quickly professionals could get straight to the heart of things. Just ten minutes had changed everything.

People were already whispering. Maybe Kenneth pulled some strings for Emily. Maybe it was his reputation, his connections, the famous Gates family. The whole situation seemed to get murkier by the second. Unless someone gave an answer that made sense, it was going to be impossible to convince anyone in the audience.

At that moment, the director cleared his throat and spoke up, just when confusion hit its peak. “After we made the sample, the gown was sent straight to Ms. Tracing. Honestly, I didn’t know where it ended up. So when I got the tip-off, I acted too quickly and posted an inaccurate tweet—without checking the facts. As for why Emily had the gown without going through Jeva…”

He paused, eyes serious as his next words hung on the air. “Emily reached out to Ms. Tracing herself.”

The room fell totally silent.

People stared at Emily like they’d never seen her before, reporters and fans alike, their faces a mix of shock and disbelief. Even Sabina’s breath caught, her face turning ghostly pale, a storm of jealousy flickering in her eyes.

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