As she continued her taunting, I glimpsed the live-stream assistant’s screen, where the comments were flooding in like a tidal wave. It didn’t take long for the insults to pour in, predictable as ever.
"Amanda, the stream’s hit ten million views! Push harder!"
The camera zoomed in on my face, highlighting every inch of my disheveled state. Panic surged through me as I could only repeat the words over and over:
"I didn’t plagiarize. Every one of my works is my own creation!"
"There are drafts in my studio. I can bring them out to prove it!"
The standoff dragged on for what felt like an eternity, nearly ten minutes before Cohen’s bodyguards stormed in.
I looked at them, desperation in my eyes, silently pleading for help.
"Miss, Mr. Whitmore has instructed us to take advantage of this exposure. Please apologize on camera," one of them said, his voice cold and unwavering.
Before I could refuse, they followed Cohen’s orders, pushing me in front of the camera.
I clenched my teeth, my resolve hardening as I refused to apologize.
But as the live stream continued, something shifted. Some viewers began to notice that something wasn’t right. Support for me started flooding the comments, urging me to show my drafts and clear my name.
I thought I had finally found a way out. My body trembled with hope as I tried to move toward the studio to retrieve the drafts that would clear my name. But before I could make a single step, the bodyguards restrained me, holding me tightly in place.
The influencer, her smile widening as the stream’s popularity surged, swiftly connected her mic to Cohen’s line.
Just when the viewers seemed certain that Cohen wouldn’t appear, his voice rang out, slicing through the tension.
"This is Cohen. I can confirm that Giselle plagiarized."
The chat erupted in a frenzy, engagement soaring to dizzying heights.
Cohen didn’t offer much more, his silence hanging heavy in the air.
"Oh, don’t be so blunt," came a voice, light and coquettish, from his side, though she remained out of view.
Moments later, the connection was severed. The chat exploded into wild speculation.
[Was that Imogen? She’s in Cohen’s car?]
[There were already rumors about Cohen being engaged. Makes sense he'd defend his fiancée.]
But I was supposed to be Cohen’s fiancée.