Chapter 63:

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Colton, caught between his desire to shield Melany and the mess unraveling before him, forced himself to bite back his frustrations.

“Let’s not dredge up the past,” he said, his voice strained. “Besides, Melany didn’t steal or copy anything outright. She simply added a little something to your original formula. Now that it’s public knowledge, the formula’s got as much value as a broken clock. Still, I’m willing to offer you 200 thousand dollars as compensation.” The final sentence escaped his lips like a bitter pill, each word dragged out through clenched teeth. “Let’s call it quits here. We can still walk away with our heads held high.”

Melany’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears, wearing the look of someone deeply wronged. “This isn’t on Allison. It’s my fault for creating this misunderstanding. Allison has been hiding her identity as the famous perfumer, Scarlet Snake, for years, and honestly, I’ve always admired her. That’s why I’ve spent time studying her techniques in perfumery.”

With practiced ease, Melany sidestepped the real issue, turning the spotlight away from her dishonesty. But the crowd remained skeptical, their silence thick with doubt. Sensing the shift, Melany burst into tears and wasted no time playing the victim.

“Allison,” she said, her voice trembling with manufactured emotion. “I know you’ve never liked me, thinking I wrecked your marriage. I’ve carried that guilt for so long. I understand why you’re lashing out now, because Colton and I are about to get married.”

As if on cue, she dropped to her knees, her sobs echoing through the room, painting herself as the sacrificial lamb. “Allison, if this is what it takes to make peace with you, I’ll do it. But please, I’m begging you—don’t drag Colton into this. You know how much this competition means to him…”

She twisted the narrative as deftly as a skilled storyteller, framing the scandal as nothing more than a messy love triangle.

Rebecca, having had enough, shot back, “You’ve got some nerve! Plagiarism is plagiarism—quit trying to steer the conversation away from the truth!”

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Allison, cold as ice, added, “Melany, no matter how much you try to spin it, cheating and stealing ideas will be dealt with according to the competition’s rules.” Her gaze then shifted to Colton, her tone sharp and unyielding. “As for you, staying friends after a divorce? That’s for people who enjoy keeping their lives tangled in knots.”

“Drag me into your mess, it’s revolting.” Allison’s words cut through the air like a blade, leaving Colton and Melany floundering, their faces reddening with embarrassment.

Colton’s face darkened, his voice rising. “We can settle this later, but for the record, Melany didn’t cheat. If you actually read the rules—”

His defense was abruptly cut off as the crowd quieted, parting like the sea before a storm. “Mr. Blakely.”

A staff member spoke up as a man with a head full of curls approached, his smile wide and amiable.

“Kellan, fancy seeing you here,” the man greeted with casual ease. “Still hoping to get me to invest in your company?”

Standing next to Kellan was Ferdinand Blakely, who added with a smirk, “Strange, isn’t it? The Everett Group is always eager to back fresh talent, but with the wealth of the Lloyd family, you wouldn’t think my investment would be needed.”

The room murmured in recognition—Ferdinand, the president of the Everett Group, had a reputation for being as sharp as he was shrewd. Yet today, his presence exuded a friendly warmth that felt oddly disarming.

But beneath his twinkling eyes and easy grin lay the sharpness of a finely honed blade. “Seems to me like you’re riding the competition’s wave of publicity to launch your new perfume, Charisma. Convenient timing, wouldn’t you say?”

Kellan chuckled, unfazed. “Nothing gets past you, Ferdinand.”

Allison observed the exchange with quiet thoughtfulness, noting the camaraderie between the two men.

Ferdinand then turned to her with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “‘Miss Clarke, I presume? I’ve heard plenty about you—winner of the first Perfumery Competition, aren’t you?”

“You flatter me, Mr. Blakely,” Allison responded politely, though she couldn’t shake the sense that despite his warmth, Ferdinand maintained a distance, a barrier that no one could cross.

He sighed, almost as if the entire situation bored him. “It’s a shame the competition has been marred by so many unqualified entrants. It’s done a number on its reputation.”

His gaze lazily drifted toward Melany, his voice dropping to a chilling tone. “And if there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s dishonesty. So, Miss Johnson, isn’t it about time you offered a proper apology?”

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