Chapter 7
I had never bothered to look at the contracts Jackson brought.
It would have been easy for him to forge my signature.
Snatching the document from his hands, I examined it closely.
“Jackson, you knew me three years ago, but you don’t know me now. My signature has changed since then. Are you really trying to pass off an old signature as mine?”
I tossed the contract to Justin and urged him to display it on the screen. The way my last name, “Aniston,” was written bore no resemblance to how I sign it today.
But more importantly, I had a recording of my conversation with Jackson from that time.
The room filled with his voice, echoing my past.
“I should be the one going to prison, not you. I can’t bear the thought of you being locked away.”
I replied, “The world needs you out there. Besides, you’ll find way to save me.”
a
Jackson’s eyes turned colder than I’d ever seen, a flicker of
Chapter 7
surprise crossing his face at the revelation of the recording.
2/4
I hadn’t intended to capture that moment; I was filming Barry and accidentally recorded our conversation.
That night, I re–uploaded Rebecca’s award–winning design online.
When Jackson had come to visit earlier, I had saved a copy the original draft. The files he stole were not the first drafts.
I had already taken precautions against Jackson and Barry.
of
Before they arrived, I had everything ready, and the entire process of Barry stealing my drafts was caught on surveillance.
I posted my design online.
Rebecca titled her piece “Endless Love,” believing the triangular wave line in the necklace represented an umbilical cord connecting her to the child.
Little did she know, that wave line symbolized the moment I went into transient cardiac arrest while giving birth to Barry. It was his cries that brought me back.
I named my piece “The Call.”
I thought to myself, “You were the one who brought me back to life, my child. Now, it’s time for me to leave you behind.”
In a single night, Jackson’s company stock plummeted by half,
Chapter 7
losing hundreds of millions in market value.
3/4
Rebecca scrambled to manage the crisis, but the evidence of her plagiarism was undeniable. No one in the industry dared to take her on as a client; it was akin to inviting trouble.
In the blink of an eye, Rebecca and I had swapped places. I emerged as the new rising star in the design world, the darling, of various jewelry brands.
Jackson called me, saying Barry had gotten into a fight at
preschool. The other kids called him the thief’s son, and Barry cried, insisting that Rebecca wasn’t his mother–his mother was
- me.
I listened calmly to Jackson’s recounting. “Oh, this kid is already so materialistic at such a young age. You’ve really done a number on him, Jackson. Don’t call me again. I honestly don’t want to hear anything about him.”
Jackson pressed on, asking, “What about my news?”
I hesitated. “Your news? I’m curious.”
“Emilia, you still care about me, don’t you?”
“Let me finish. I only want to hear about your bankruptcy.”
“Emilia…”
