Plagiarist in My Studio, His Deep Regret

I am a worldrenowned young architect.

On the very first day I returned to the United States to establish my own studio, my fiancé, Ethan Miller, walked in carrying a contract.

The heir to the Miller Group—the most powerful name in American architecture—was standing before me, bowing his head with unusual humility.

“Sophia, we’ll soon be family. Sign this contract, and from now on, every Miller project will be yours to lead.”

“I’ve also taken the liberty of bringing back your old college roommate, Chloe Davis. Strengthening the team matters, and she’ll be joining your studio. From now on, you’ll never have to face things alone.”

My fingers traced the cool surface of the trophy on my desk as my lips curved into a faint, mocking smile.

“Quite the proposal, Ethan.

But as I recall, the Foster Group is still waiting for my design…”

His smile froze for a moment. His Adam’s apple shifted, but he forced himself to speak in a gentle tone.

“Sophia, don’t be angry. I only want the best for you—I don’t want you overworked.”

I met his gaze, my own eyes devoid of warmth.

“Ethan, have you forgotten? Chloe was already expelled from the architectural community years ago for plagiarizing my design.

And besides, weren’t you just saying that expanding the team was what mattered most? If that’s the case, perhaps I should invite a few of the enemies your Miller Family betrayed back in the day to join as well. Surely that would be better than letting you fight your battles alone, wouldn’t it?”

His hand clenched on the edge of the desk, knuckles whitening.

“That’s different. She’s—”

“The orphan of the man who once helped your family through a crisis, isn’t she? And you need to give her a name, an identity.”

I let out a cold laugh.

“Tell me, Ethan, why must your gratitude be paid with my blood and sweat?

Since you’re so generous, I’ll be generous too. If you insist on pushing Chloe into my studio, then I see no reason not to invite a few of the Miller Family’s old victims to the table as well. Let them all ‘join the project.’”

I picked up a folder and shook a few invoices in the air.

“I heard your father left behind some rather questionable debts in the U.S. years ago. If I dig them up, maybe I’ll find plenty of people eager to ‘help’ you through another crisis. Then you’ll have even more opportunities to repay kindness—how wonderful, don’t you think?”

“Sophia! You’ve gone too far!”

Ethan shot to his feet, fury rising in his eyes.

“I was trying to think of you, and this is how you repay me? Mocking me? The Miller Family clearly misjudged you. How could you be so heartless as to refuse compassion for an orphaned girl?”

I calmly gathered the documents back into the folder.

“Why, Ethan? Is it fine for you to pull strings and hand out titles to outsiders, but unacceptable for me to reopen old accounts?

And tell me—why is it that you bend over backward to force someone with no real design ability into my projects? Could it be the two of you are hiding some… unspeakable secret?”

The office fell into a suffocating silence. Even the low hum of the air conditioner sounded harsh against it.

Ethan’s chest rose and fell violently, but no rebuttal left his lips. The air itself seemed to freeze solid.

After a long pause, he suddenly stepped closer, towering over me. Whatever pretense of warmth lingered in his eyes was gone, replaced by something sharp, oppressive—almost menacing.

“Sophia, you’re always so relentless. I’m your fiancé. Couldn’t you give me just a little respect?”

I lifted my gaze to meet his, my expression calm—so calm it was almost cold.

“Respect isn’t meant to be a mask for shame,” I said coolly.

“If you want to pave the way for someone already condemned by the industry, then do it openly with the Miller Family’s resources—not under the guise of ‘doing it for my own good,’ forcing her into my team.”

No sooner had my words fallen than the sound of hesitant footsteps came from the doorway.

A timid figure peeked in.

It was Chloe Davis.

She wore a plain white blouse, head bowed, clutching the contract tightly in her hands. Her eyes flickered nervously.

“Sophia… I—I didn’t mean anything else. I just want a fresh start.

I know what happened back then hurt you, but I was young and foolish. It was a mistake…”

I let out a sharp, humorless laugh.

“A mistake? You call stealing my work, submitting it to a competition, and pretending it was flawless—just a mistake?

Chloe, the moment you were expelled from the architectural world, you should have understood: there was no path back.”

Her lips trembled, but no words came. Tears welled in her eyes, making her look pitiful.

Ethan immediately stepped forward, shielding her behind him, his tone laced with defense.

“Sophia, that’s enough! Chloe did wrong, yes—but she has already paid the price. Why must you keep hounding her?”

I tilted my chin upward, my gaze cold and sharp.

“Paid the price? With your family’s protection, she’s standing here, shedding tears like some delicate flower—this is what you call a price?

Ethan, let me remind you: I am your fiancée. Not her.”

The atmosphere grew tense.

Ethan’s eyes flicked between me and Chloe, irritation spreading across his brow.

“Sophia, this sharpness of yours only makes the world think you’re petty.

You’re a worldrenowned architect. Shouldn’t you be gracious, above such trivial matters?”

I smiled faintly, though the chill in it was unmistakable.

“Trivial matters?

My hardearned work being stolen—trivial?

My team being infiltrated by an outsider at your whim—trivial?

Ethan, when you urge me to be ‘gracious,’ do you mean you want me to be softhearted—or to submit?”

His face darkened, jaw tight.

“Sophia, don’t push me.”

I met his fierce gaze, each word deliberate.

“It’s not me pushing you. It’s you pushing me.”

As the standoff sharpened, Chloe suddenly collapsed to her knees with a thud.

Her shoulders shook as she sobbed, voice broken.

“Sophia, it’s me who wronged you. But I truly have nowhere else to go…

Years ago, my parents gave up everything to save Mr. Miller. On their deathbeds, their only wish was that I wouldn’t starve.”

“If you hate someone, hate me. Don’t take it out on Ethan…”

Her tears spattered against the cold marble floor, a portrait of helplessness.

Ethan’s eyes softened with pity as he bent quickly to lift her up.

“Sophia Carter!”

He snapped his head up, fury flashing in his voice, laced with accusation.

“How can you be so coldblooded to a girl with nowhere to go? Her parents once saved my father’s life. That debt, the Miller Family will never forget!”

I stood unmoved, looking down on the scene like an outsider, my face expressionless.

“Ethan, if your family wants to remember that debt forever, so be it. But tell me—what does that have to do with me?”

His lips parted, but no sound came. His face burned red with shame and frustration.

Finally, he spat out the words, his voice raw:

“Sophia, someone as cruel as you is unworthy to ever set foot in the Miller Family!”

I couldn’t help but let out a mocking laugh as I looked at him.

“Ethan, you speak of compassion and duty as though it were some great virtue. If that’s how you see it, then perhaps our engagement truly deserves a second thought.”

At my words, a flicker of panic crossed Ethan’s eyes. After all, much of the Miller Family’s reputation in the industry had been built on the unique designs created by the Carter Family.

I sneered, my voice soft yet cutting, each syllable deliberate.

“Ethan, tell me—does Chloe truly have nowhere to go, or is it simply that you’re eager to give her a home?”

Chloe’s sobbing hitched, her gaze darting in panic before she lowered her head again, shrinking behind Ethan as though I were some merciless executioner.

I lifted my chin, taking measured steps toward them.

Ethan faltered. Under the pressure of my advance, all he could do was retreat step by step.

My laughter was cold, wrapped in frost.

“You call me cruel, heartless.

But if I were truly as merciless as you claim, then the moment she stole my work years ago, I wouldn’t have shown leniency because she was a poor student. I would have dragged her through court until she was ruined—stripped of everything, disgraced beyond repair.

And now? She kneels here, putting on this pitiful act. What does she want? To stir guilt in me?”

My lips curved in derision as my gaze swept over her tearful eyes.

“Chloe, you play your part well. But unfortunately for you, I was never your audience.”

The room fell silent, so quiet a pin drop could be heard.

Ethan stood frozen, still shielding Chloe, but stiff as stone. Her sobbing stopped abruptly, leaving only the stubborn streaks of tears glistening on her cheeks beneath the harsh lights.

The news spread faster than I could have imagined.

In just three days, the entire U.S. architectural community was buzzing with headlines about Chloe Davis’s return.

It all began with an official statement posted on the Miller Group’s account:

“The Miller Group will partner with the Carter Studio to jointly undertake a Federal Landmark Architecture Project over the next five years. At the same time, architect Chloe Davis has been specially appointed to join the team, overseeing project development.”

Barely a few lines, but like a stone dropped into still water, they sent ripples crashing across the industry.

Everyone remembered how Chloe had been disgraced and expelled for plagiarizing my work. And yet here she was, returning boldly as an architect. Without the Miller Family’s support, who else would dare give her such a chance?

“A worldrenowned architect forced to work alongside someone with a black mark on her record?”

“Isn’t this outright humiliation?”

“How could Sophia stomach working with the very woman who stole her work? Unless, of course, the story we know isn’t the whole truth…”

“Word is, the Carters were powerful back then. Maybe Chloe was silenced. Now that she’s made a comeback, perhaps Sophia’s family fears the past will be exposed—maybe that’s why she’s allowed back.”

Public opinion swelled and twisted. My name was mentioned again and again alongside Chloe’s, with some even daring to question whether my socalled international awards had been won honestly—or stolen.

I stood before the floortoceiling window, a fresh newspaper clenched in my hand.

The headline on the front page blared:

“Genius Architect Feud? Former Classmates in the Design World Set for a Direct Showdown.”

“Miss, should we issue a statement?” my assistant asked nervously, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Clarify?” I let out a cold laugh. “Do you really think a clarification will silence gossip? They don’t care about the truth—they want a spectacle.”

I tossed the newspaper into the fireplace, watching as the flames devoured those glaring headlines.

“If they want a show,” I murmured, “then I’ll give them one worth watching.”

Three days later, the press conference.

The hall glittered with bright chandeliers, cameras flashing in dizzying bursts.

Ethan stood confidently on stage in a tailored suit, while Chloe wore a pristine white dress, her face radiant with a carefully cultivated fragility.

But the moment she began speaking, her voice cracked into a trembling sob.

“I know many of you hold prejudice against me, but I’m willing to prove myself with real talent.

The misunderstandings of the past… maybe they happened because I was young, reckless, and didn’t clarify things in time, which led people to believe I had plagiarized.”

She paused, gazing at the reporters through tearfilled eyes, her voice quivering.

“But as for some of those drafts—who first sketched them—well, I believe those who truly know the industry already understand.”

The words hit like a bombshell.

The room erupted. She hadn’t said it outright, but the insinuation was clear enough to spark suspicion:

Could the plagiarism scandal of years past have been a coverup?

Was the socalled genius architect Sophia Carter actually the plagiarist?

Ethan quickly took the microphone, his tone steady and authoritative.

“I believe Chloe. I hope you’ll give her a chance.

She and Sophia were classmates in college—both rivals and partners who pushed each other forward. The Miller Family is willing to guarantee the projects she’ll lead in the future.”

Chloe turned to him with glistening gratitude in her eyes. He returned the look with open tenderness, as though they were the ones about to be engaged.

The press surged with excitement, flashes snapping like lightning, reporters whispering feverishly among themselves.

Then, slowly, I walked onto the stage.

My black gown swept the floor, my makeup was understated, but the cold fire in my eyes was impossible to miss.

I didn’t spare a glance at Chloe or Ethan. Instead, I faced the sea of cameras headon, my voice sharp and unwavering.

“Since we’re discussing talent and clarification, why don’t we have Chloe present hers—right here, right now.”

I raised my hand toward the giant screen behind me.

“This is my latest proposal, submitted last month—City of Dawn.”

The screen lit up, revealing sweeping lines and a bold, visionary design.

The hall fell silent; reporters held their breath.

A faint, icy smile curved my lips.

“If she truly has the ability, let her offer a revision… or better yet, present her own design and compete against mine.”

Chloe’s face drained of color.

Moments ago, she had implied I was a plagiarist. Now, with the spotlight fixed on her, she couldn’t form a single word.

Her hands gripped the edge of the table, knuckles trembling, her eyes darting wildly. Even her breath seemed to falter.

The silence in the hall grew suffocating. The cameras zoomed in, magnifying every flicker of panic on her face.

Reporters lifted their microphones but didn’t dare speak; only the relentless clicking of shutters and the harsh glare of flashbulbs filled the air, weaving a blinding white pressure around her.

Chloe’s lips trembled. Her pale face glistened with tears, the makeup she had so carefully applied streaking into ruin.

Chloe clutched the hem of her dress, her knuckles bonewhite, like a caged animal with no way out.

I wasn’t in a hurry.

I walked toward her slowly, each step steady, my voice unhurried, every word carrying clearly through the microphone.

“What’s wrong?”

A cold curve pulled at my lips.

“Didn’t you just say everyone in the industry already knows the truth?”

“Then go on—tell them. Share your vision, your ideas, even your last design concept. Let’s hear it.”

The hall fell into a suffocating silence.

Only the cold, unblinking cameras remained, magnifying the panic flickering in her eyes.

“S–Sophia…”

Her voice rasped, raw as gravel.

Trembling, she reached for Ethan’s sleeve, her words broken, laced with sobs.

“I always thought of you as my best, best friend. Can’t we just leave the past in the past?

I don’t want to drag up old wounds and ruin what we have.

If you say I plagiarized, then fine—I plagiarized. I don’t want to argue anymore. People will judge for themselves.

Some of those drafts… who they originally belonged to—I won’t say too much. But one day, the truth will come out.”

The words shot through the air like a bullet, striking the soft underbelly of public opinion.

She hadn’t said it outright, but her insinuation was enough.

The hall erupted.

Reporters’ faces shifted with sudden realization, whispers breaking into a storm.

Could the plagiarism scandal have been more complicated than it seemed?

Was the socalled genius architect Sophia Carter really the one who had stepped on someone else to rise?

A dry laugh slipped past my lips, sharp as a blade.

“So this is your socalled ‘truth the industry knows’?”

I met her gaze headon, my eyes like steel.

“Chloe, you can’t even articulate the basics of your work, yet you dare to slander me with lies?”

My words landed like a needle piercing straight into her weakness.

The reporters could no longer hold back. Scenting blood, they surged like sharks.

“Ms. Davis, just now you implied Sophia plagiarized. Do you have concrete proof?”

“If not, are you deliberately defaming her?”

“What really happened back then? Please don’t dodge the question!”

“Can you present one of your original drafts right now, so we can compare?”

“Sophia’s design, ‘City of Dawn,’ has already passed international certification. Can you produce a work on that level?”

Flashes exploded in a storm of white light.

Chloe’s breath quickened, her forehead damp with sweat. She clung to Ethan’s sleeve with trembling hands, her voice quivering to the breaking point.

“I… I don’t want to fight anymore. I just… I just want justice…”

She deflected again, shaping herself into the portrait of a victim crushed beneath power.

And yet, that only goaded the reporters into pressing harder.

The hall was chaos. Every lens zoomed mercilessly on her face.

At that moment, Ethan finally spoke.

He pulled Chloe behind him, his dark eyes locking onto me with a cold, sharp intensity. His voice was low, edged with steel.

“That’s enough, Sophia. How long will you use your family’s influence to bully an innocent girl?”

His chest heaved as though he were restraining his fury with great effort.

For a long beat, he turned to the restless sea of reporters and, with sudden force, declared—