Chapter 6
The licensing deal involved a company called Monarch Jewelers.
It operated luxury stores across twelve states.
I had heard of it.
Everyone in the design industry had.
A contract with Monarch could change an independent designer's life.
It could mean royalties.
Recognition.
Manufacturing support.
And opportunities that most small artists only dreamed about.
But the agreement under investigation listed Whitmore Creative Holdings as the supplier of original designs.
My name wasn't mentioned.
Neither was Tasha Morgan's.
Or the names of several other designers whose submissions were being reviewed.
I sat across from Rachel.
My hands were shaking.
"Did Monarch know?"
She shook her head.
"There's no evidence at this stage that Monarch knew the ownership claims might be disputed."
I nodded.
"Okay."
She continued.
"The licensing agreement contains warranties stating that Whitmore Creative Holdings owned or controlled the relevant rights."
My stomach tightened.
"What happens if those warranties were false?"
"That could create significant contractual and legal consequences."
I looked down.
I thought about the tiny crescent moon pendant.
The uneven stars.
The hidden emerald.
A design I'd created to remember my mother.
Someone had tried to turn it into a product without asking me.
Without paying me.
Without even allowing my name to remain attached.
I felt sick.
Then Rachel showed me another document.
It was a manufacturing schedule.
Several designs were listed for nationwide release.
One had the internal code MP-17.
Midnight Promise.
My heart stopped.
"They were going to sell it everywhere."
Rachel nodded.
"That's what the schedule indicates."
I covered my mouth.
For several seconds, I couldn't speak.
Then I asked, "Can we stop the launch?"
Rachel answered carefully.
"We're working with the relevant parties to preserve rights and prevent further disputed use while ownership is examined."
I nodded.
I wanted immediate action.
But I also understood that legal disputes couldn't be resolved simply because I knew my design was mine.
Evidence mattered.
Contracts mattered.
And every affected artist deserved a fair process.
The independent committee contacted Monarch Jewelers.
The company agreed to suspend the disputed designs pending review.
That was our first major victory.
But it didn't end the investigation.
A week later, Elise called me.
She sounded frightened.
"Nia, can we meet?"
I hesitated.
"About what?"
"Something I should've told the investigators sooner."
My stomach tightened.
I suggested she speak with Rachel.
Elise agreed.
The next afternoon, we met at Rachel's office.
Elise arrived carrying a small folder.
Her eyes were swollen.
She looked exhausted.
I offered her water.
She accepted.
Then she whispered, "I knew your name before you came to the store."
My chest tightened.
"I know."
She shook her head.
"No. I mean Diane talked about you for weeks."
I stared at her.
"Why?"
Elise looked down.
"She said you were dangerous."
I almost laughed.
"Me?"
She nodded.
"She said your father had spoiled you and that you'd try to take credit for her collection."
My stomach tightened.
I looked toward Rachel.
She remained quiet.
Elise continued.
"Then she showed us your photograph."
My heart stopped.
"What photograph?"
"A picture from your designer application."
I stared at her.
"She told security to watch for you."
I nodded slowly.
That explained the restricted notice.
But Elise wasn't finished.
"She also told me something about your mother."
My stomach tightened.
"What?"
Elise hesitated.
"She said the pendant design belonged to a family archive."
I stared at her.
"What family archive?"
"She claimed your father had acquired your mother's design rights years ago."
For several seconds, I couldn't breathe.
My mother.
My beautiful, gentle mother.
She'd been an art teacher.
She loved handmade jewelry.
But she wasn't a professional designer.
And she had never created Midnight Promise.
I had.
Years after she died.
I looked at Elise.
"That isn't true."
She nodded.
"I understand that now."
I felt anger burning through me.
Diane hadn't simply stolen a design.
She'd created a story to explain why my father might recognize it.
She was using my mother's memory as part of her cover.
I looked down.
Tears fell onto my hands.
Rachel gently pushed a tissue box toward me.
I wiped my face.
Then asked Elise, "Why are you telling me now?"
Her voice broke.
"Because I helped prepare the collection presentation."
I looked up.
She continued.
"I didn't know the designs were stolen. But I knew something was wrong when Diane told us to remove the original submission references."
I swallowed.
Elise began crying.
"I was afraid of losing my job."
For a moment, I saw the conflict in her face.
She wasn't wealthy.
She didn't have a famous father.
She depended on her paycheck.
Speaking up could cost her everything.
I reached across the table.
"Thank you for coming forward."
Her eyes filled.
"I'm sorry I waited."
I nodded.
"I understand why you were afraid."
Rachel explained how Elise could provide evidence through the formal investigation.
Then the meeting ended.
That evening, I visited Dad.
He was sitting alone in his study.
The room was dark except for his desk lamp.
I stopped in the doorway.
"Dad?"
He looked up.
"Hey, sweetheart."
I walked inside.
He looked tired.
Older than I remembered.
I sat across from him.
"Are you okay?"
He sighed.
"Not really."
I nodded.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then he whispered, "I trusted Diane."
My throat tightened.
He continued.
"She presented herself as an experienced executive."
I looked at him.
"She was good at making people believe her."
Dad nodded.
"Yes."
Then he looked toward me.
"But I should've asked more questions."
I swallowed.
He continued.
"I spent thirty years building companies. I thought I understood how to recognize dishonesty."
His eyes filled.
"And I didn't see what was happening inside my own business."
I took his hand.
"Dad, you can't know everything."
He shook his head.
"No."
Then he looked directly at me.
"But I am responsible for what happens when I learn the truth."
I smiled through my tears.
"Then make it right."
He nodded.
"I intend to."
The next morning, the independent committee released preliminary findings.
The report identified serious weaknesses in the designer submission process.
It recommended suspending all disputed licensing activity.
It also called for stronger oversight, independent reporting channels, and a full review of creator compensation.
I felt hopeful.
Then Rachel called.
Her voice was urgent.
"Nia, Diane has responded through her attorney."
My stomach tightened.
"What does she want?"
Rachel paused.
"She's claiming you signed a release assigning your designs to Sterling Diamonds."
I stared at the phone.
"I never did."
Rachel took a breath.
"She's produced a document."
My hands began trembling.
"And?"
"It contains your signature."
I stopped breathing.
May you like
Then Rachel whispered,
"Nia, I think we need to examine whether that signature is genuine."
