Chapter 2 Every Soul That Hurt Her Pays

Adeline stared at the text for two seconds, then deleted it.

The taxi turned onto Wysteria Avenue along the outer edge of the Stuart Estate, heading toward the old town. Adeline leaned back in the rear seat, opened her notes app, and quickly typed out a plan.

First, register her own design studio.

Second, hold onto her competition spot no matter what.

Third, everyone who had driven her to her death—she wasn't letting a single one off easy.

Back at her apartment, Adeline's first move was to call the competition committee.

"Mr. Watson, this is Adeline," she said, standing by the window. "The invitation from Prestige Gem International was sent to me personally, correct?"

The nasal voice of Desmond Watson came through, accompanied by the rustle of papers. "Of course that spot belongs to you alone. Your name is clearly on the invitation letter—it has nothing to do with the Stuart family. Has someone been telling you otherwise?"

"No, I just wanted to confirm. Thank you."

Adeline hung up, and everything clicked into place. That precious spot had come from a personal design exhibition she'd held a year ago. A judge had noticed her work, and the committee had reached out directly. Yet Louis had always told her the family had pulled strings to get her that opportunity.

Next she called her lawyer friend, Nora Rivera.

"You want to register your own studio?" Nora sounded genuinely surprised. "You're finally breaking free?"

"The sooner the better," Adeline said. "Send me everything that needs my signature today."

"No problem—give me two days." Nora paused. "But Adeline, are you sure? Once the Stuart family decides to push back—"

"I've made up my mind."

After hanging up, Adeline tidied the apartment, sat down at her computer, and carefully reviewed the registration process for setting up an independent studio.

The Stuart family's response came far sooner than expected.

In less than three hours, Nora called back, her voice hesitant. "Adeline, Matthew just reached out to me. He was beating around the bush, trying to find out if I was handling any paperwork for you."

Adeline's grip tightened on the phone. "What exactly did he say?"

"He didn't threaten me outright, but he made a point of mentioning that the Stuart Group is one of our firm's biggest clients." Nora sighed. "I'll do everything I can for you personally, but if the partners step in, there's only so much I can do."

"I understand. Don't put yourself in a difficult position." Adeline cut her off. "Just connect me with an independent firm that's out of their reach."

"Let me think—there's a small firm that recently opened on Willow Street. They're not big, but they have a solid reputation. I'll send you their contact info shortly."

"Thank you, Nora."

After hanging up, Adeline leaned back and narrowed her eyes. The Stuart family was moving much faster this time. In her previous life, they had waited a full week before quietly starting to sabotage her. This time, they'd stepped in within half a day. Her firm stance that morning had clearly rattled them.

She was still turning this over when her phone rang again.

Lancelot's name lit up the screen.

Adeline answered. His voice came through low and hushed. "Did you really cut ties with your family for good? Aren't you being too impulsive? They're still your family."

"Family?" A cold smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "They took what I built and handed it to someone else, then expected me to smile about it. That's not what family does."

"Is this about the competition spot?" Lancelot paused. "Vivian mentioned it to me. She genuinely loves jewelry design—if you could just see it from her side—"

"She came to you about this?"

"We stay in touch from time to time," Lancelot said, his tone giving nothing away. "She's your sister. It's only natural I'd look out for her."

"Of course it is." Adeline tapped a finger lightly on the desk. "But the competition is none of your business—I have it handled. And going forward, don't ask my family about anything to do with me."

"Don't be so stubborn—"

Adeline hung up before he could finish. She screenshotted the call log and saved it to a new encrypted folder. She renamed the folder: Evidence.

Over the next three days, through the independent firm Nora had referred her to, Adeline successfully registered her own jewelry design studio. She kept the name simple: Prism Studio.

The process was anything but smooth. Louis quietly spread word through Silverlight City's business circles that local partners should avoid working with her. She reached out to three raw‑materials suppliers—every one gave vague, evasive responses and eventually went silent.

But Adeline had never planned to rely on the Stuart family's supply chain. She opened her laptop and pulled up a contact she hadn't touched in a long time—Leon Fish. He was an independent gem cutter she had known from her previous life, reclusive and difficult, but unmatched in skill. He never took on outsourcing work for major brands. She hadn't managed to collaborate with him before. This time, she wasn't letting that chance slip.

He picked up. "Who is this?"

"Mr. Fish, my name is Adeline. I once saw the padparadscha sapphire you cut at Aurelian Auction House—eighty‑seven facets, every angle held to within 0.3 degrees."

Five seconds of silence.

"Who are you?" Leon's tone had softened.

"I'm an independent jewelry designer," Adeline said plainly. "I have a design that requires a high‑difficulty dual‑material inlay. I believe you're the only person in the industry who can pull it off."

Another pause. Then, finally, a trace of interest crept into his voice. "Send me the design. I'll take a look."

After sending the files, Adeline let out a long breath.

Her phone screen lit up again—an official email from the PGI Organizing Committee.

Subject line: Notice Regarding a Request to Transfer Your Competition Entry.

Adeline opened it and read every word. Her finger froze on the screen.

The message was brief. Someone had submitted a request to transfer her competition spot to another contestant, citing the original entrant's voluntary withdrawal. In the applicant field, Louis's name was printed clearly. Attached was a signed statement of voluntary withdrawal—bearing Adeline's own signature.

The signature was a forgery.