Chapter 5: The Father Who Tried to Bury My Name
Maya replayed the video.
Once.
Twice.
Then a third time.
The recording was shaky, but the voices were unmistakable.
Vanessa had been standing beside the sewing table with the dye container in her hand.
Her father, Marcus Mitchell, had been speaking from somewhere near the doorway.
“Make sure she doesn't get anywhere near those Whitmore people.””
Vanessa had answered:
“Don't worry. By tonight, she'll be out of the competition.””
Marcus had replied:
“Good. We cannot afford another Carter situation.””
Maya stopped the video.
Her fingers had gone numb.
“Another Carter situation?””
Brielle nodded slowly.
“I heard that too.””
Maya looked toward Richard Whitmore.
He was speaking quietly with Angela near the presentation table.
“Mr. Whitmore?””
Richard turned.
“Yes?””
“Do you know Marcus Mitchell?””
Richard's expression changed immediately.
“I do.””
“Why would he say that?””
Richard looked toward Angela.
She lowered her microphone.
“Where did you hear his name?””
Maya held up the phone.
Brielle pressed play.
The recording filled the corridor.
Marcus's voice echoed through the golden arches.
By the time the video ended, Richard looked visibly shaken.
“Who recorded this?””
“Brielle,” Maya answered.
“She was in the room.””
Richard turned toward the girl.
“Did you record the entire conversation?””
Brielle nodded.
“I started recording when Vanessa began pouring the dye. I didn't know what else to do.””
“Have you edited this video?””
“No.””
“Have you sent it to anyone?””
“Only Maya.””
Richard nodded.
“Please preserve the original file.””
Brielle quickly locked her phone.
“What does he mean by another Carter situation?”” Maya asked.
Richard didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he looked toward the far end of the corridor.
A man in a charcoal suit was approaching.
His hair was neatly styled, his shoes polished, and his expression carried the confidence of someone accustomed to being welcomed into important rooms.
Marcus Mitchell.
Vanessa's father.
He walked directly toward Richard.
“Richard,” he said, extending his hand.
“I was hoping to catch you before the awards.””
Richard didn't shake it.
“Marcus.””
Marcus lowered his hand.
His gaze shifted toward Maya.
“Ah. The young designer.””
Maya stared at him.
“You know who I am?””
Marcus smiled.
“Of course. My daughter has mentioned you.””
“Did she tell you what she did to my dress?””
His smile tightened.
“I understand there was an unfortunate accident.””
“It wasn't an accident.””
Marcus looked at Richard.
“I assume we're not going to turn a school competition into a courtroom.””
Richard replied evenly.
“That depends on the evidence.””
Marcus chuckled.
“Evidence? Richard, we've known each other for years.””
“That's exactly why I'm disappointed.””
Marcus's smile disappeared.
He lowered his voice.
“Can we speak privately?””
“No.””
A few nearby guests turned.
Marcus glanced at them.
“Perhaps this conversation would be better handled away from the audience.””
Richard folded his arms.
“Then you should have considered that before involving yourself in the destruction of a contestant's work.””
Marcus looked at Maya again.
“Miss Carter, I think there's been a misunderstanding.””
Maya took a step forward.
“I heard your voice.””
Marcus blinked.
“What?””
“I heard you telling Vanessa to keep me away from Whitmore.””
His expression remained almost perfectly calm.
“I'm afraid I don't know what you're referring to.””
Brielle held up her phone.
“We recorded you.””
For the first time, Marcus's face changed.
Only slightly.
But Maya noticed.
He looked at Brielle's phone, then at Richard.
“Is that supposed to be a threat?””
Richard answered.
“No. It's evidence.””
Marcus exhaled.
“Let's not be dramatic.””
Maya felt anger rising through her chest.
“You told your daughter to destroy my dress.””
“I did no such thing.””
“You told her to keep me away from the company.””
Marcus looked at Richard.
“Do you seriously intend to take the word of a teenager over mine?””
Richard didn't hesitate.
“I intend to examine the evidence.””
Marcus's jaw tightened.
Then he turned toward Maya.
“Listen carefully. I know you're upset. I know you feel that something was taken from you. But accusations like these can damage reputations.””
Maya stared at him.
“Whose reputation?””
Marcus leaned closer.
“Yours too.””
Angela stepped between them.
“Mr. Mitchell, that's enough.””
He straightened.
“I'm simply trying to prevent a young girl from making a serious mistake.””
Maya shook her head.
“I already made one.””
Marcus raised an eyebrow.
“What mistake?””
“Trusting your daughter.””
Marcus's eyes hardened.
Before he could respond, Richard reached into the folder.
He removed a document with a company letterhead.
“Marcus, perhaps you can explain something else.””
Marcus glanced at the page.
“What is that?””
“An old employment agreement.””
Marcus looked closer.
Richard continued.
“Seventeen years ago, you were a junior acquisitions manager at Whitmore.””
Marcus nodded.
“Yes.””
“You were responsible for processing incoming design submissions.””
“I handled hundreds of submissions.””
“Do you remember Denise Carter?””
Marcus's expression went completely blank.
“No.””
Richard looked at him for a long moment.
“Interesting.””
He placed the document on the table.
“Because your signature appears on the internal rejection notice.””
Marcus's face drained of color.
Maya looked between them.
“What does that mean?””
Richard explained.
“When Denise's collection was selected, the acceptance documents were sent to the acquisitions department. Someone marked the contract as withdrawn and redirected the design files into a private archive.””
Marcus shook his head.
“That was seventeen years ago. I don't remember every file I handled.””
Richard continued.
“The person who authorized the change was the acquisitions manager.””
Marcus gave a short laugh.
“Many people had access to those records.””
“Yes. But the authorization code belonged to you.””
A silence settled over the corridor.
Marcus adjusted his cuff.
“I was following instructions.””
Richard's eyes narrowed.
“Whose instructions?””
Marcus said nothing.
Maya stepped closer.
“Did you know my mother?””
Marcus looked at her.
“I may have met her.””
“Did you take her designs?””
“No.””
“Did you stop her from getting the contract?””
Marcus sighed.
“Miss Carter, you need to understand how business works. Not every talented designer receives an opportunity.””
Maya's voice cracked.
“My mother deserved one.””
Marcus looked away.
Richard placed another document on the table.
“This is a copy of the original review notes.””
Marcus glanced down.
Then his expression changed.
The document contained a handwritten comment:
Design concept exceptional. Recommend immediate contract. Protect original artist's rights.
Below it was another note.
Hold submission. Transfer concept to internal development.
The initials beside the second instruction were M.M.
Marcus slowly stepped backward.
Richard's voice became colder.
“You didn't simply reject her application. You transferred her work.””
Marcus shook his head.
“I was protecting the company.””
“From what?””
“From a potential financial disaster.””
Richard looked disgusted.
“Denise Carter was offered a contract because her work was exceptional.””
Marcus's voice rose.
“She was inexperienced! She had no business connections! No established clients! The company couldn't afford to gamble on someone like her.””
Maya stared at him.
“So you stole from her because she wasn't rich?””
Marcus turned toward her.
“Don't twist my words.””
“You took her chance away.””
“I made a business decision.””
Richard closed the folder.
“You made a decision that cost an innocent designer her career.””
Marcus looked around.
The audience was listening.
Some guests had their phones raised.
He lowered his voice.
“We need to stop this before it gets out of control.””
Angela answered.
“It's already out of your control.””
Marcus turned sharply.
“You have no idea what you're getting involved in.””
Angela didn't move.
“I know exactly what I'm involved in.””
Then she looked toward Maya.
“And I know what happened to her mother deserves to be investigated properly.””
Marcus's phone rang.
He ignored it.
It rang again.
This time, he answered.
“Not now.””
A voice came through the speaker.
It was Vanessa.
“Dad, where are you?””
Marcus closed his eyes.
“What happened?””
“They're saying I stole the designs. Everyone is talking about it.””
“Get somewhere private.””
“Dad, they're asking for my submission files!””
Marcus glanced toward Richard.
“Don't give them anything.””
Vanessa's voice became frantic.
“What? But you told me everything was taken care of!””
Marcus's eyes widened.
He quickly lowered the phone.
But the damage was done.
Richard had heard.
So had Angela.
And so had Maya.
Maya felt something inside her shift.
Vanessa hadn't simply stolen her design.
Her father had been helping her.
Perhaps for years.
Perhaps even longer than Maya could imagine.
Marcus ended the call.
He looked toward Richard.
“I'll be speaking to my attorneys.””
Richard nodded.
“You should.””
Marcus turned to leave.
But Maya stopped him.
“One question.””
He paused.
“What?””
“Did my mother ever know?””
Marcus didn't answer.
Maya's eyes filled.
“Did she know you took her work?””
He looked at her.
For a moment, something resembling guilt crossed his face.
Then he said:
“She knew someone had betrayed her.””
Maya's lips trembled.
Marcus continued.
“She just never discovered who.””
Then he walked away.
Maya stood beneath the golden lights, holding the letter her mother had written.
The applause from earlier had faded.
The celebration had become an investigation.
And suddenly, the scholarship seemed like the smallest part of what had happened.
Richard approached her.
“Miss Carter, I need to tell you something.””
Maya looked up.
“What?””
“Your mother's original collection wasn't just a peacock gown.””
He opened another folder.
Inside were photographs of seven additional designs.
Each one was breathtaking.
Each one carried Denise Carter's signature.
Maya stared.
“My mother made all of these?””
“Yes.””
Richard turned another page.
“And according to our records, one of those designs became the foundation for a collection that generated millions of dollars.””
Maya looked at him.
“Who received the money?””
Richard hesitated.
Then he pointed toward a name printed at the bottom of the document.
MARCUS MITCHELL.
Maya's breath caught.
But before she could speak, Richard placed one final photograph on the table.
It showed Denise standing beside a young man.
A man Maya recognized.
Because he was not Marcus Mitchell.
It was someone who had been standing beside her throughout the entire gala.
Someone who had just watched her mother receive recognition for the first time.
May you like
Richard whispered:
“There's another person who knows exactly what happened.””
