From a Shadow Designer to a Legend

Dad, when is that awful woman leaving? I don't want to call her Mom anymore. I want my real mom.

Those were the words from the son I had raised for five years.

Clutching my first-place trophy from the Paris International Jewelry Design Competition, I stood at the entrance of my own living room, watching my husband embrace another woman.

"Once she finishes all your designs for next season and helps you truly establish yourself in New York, I'll send her away."

He kissed the woman's fingertips.

"Seraphina is nothing more than a useful tool. A free nanny."

The trophy slipped from my grasp.

That dull thud shattered all the dreams of the past five years.

He never loved me.

I wiped away my tears and dialed a number I had not dared to call in five years.

"I want to come home."

They thought I was a helpless orphan.

They did not know that Jasper Clarke, the elder brother of the powerful Clarke family in Los Angeles, had been waiting for that call for five long years.

Seraphina POV

The plane landed in New York, a biting chill seeping through the early autumn night air.

I clutched the first-place trophy from the Paris International Jewelry Design Competition, my heart full of joy as I pushed open the door to our mansion in the exclusive hillside community.

I had intentionally changed my flight, ending my trip fifteen hours early, just to surprise Ethan Thorne. After half a month apart, longing had grown like a wild vine, burning me. It wrapped around every breath I took.

The living room was brightly lit, but it wasn't the quiet I had expected.

"Dad, when is that mean lady leaving? I don't want to call her Mom anymore. I want my real mom."

The innocent child's voice hit me like a dull, heavy hammer.

That was Leo, the son I had raised for five years.

Five years ago, Ethan brought baby Leo home, covered in blood, his eyes red-rimmed. He told me Leo was the last living relative of a close friend who had died in a tragic accident.

My heart ached for Ethan, and even more for the crying infant in his arms. I took the child without hesitation and raised him as my own.

For five years, I spent countless sleepless nights when Leo had asthma attacks. To care for him, I even put my jewelry design career, the thing I loved most, on hold for a time.

But now, this child I had poured my heart into was calling me an awful woman?

I froze in the shadow of the doorway, my gaze fixed on the center of the living room, past the open door.

On the leather sofa, Ethan had a slender, beautiful woman in his arms. Leo was nestled in her lap. They looked so happy.

"Soon," Ethan's voice was low, tinged with a tenderness I'd never heard directed at me. "Once she finishes all your designs for next season and helps you truly establish yourself in New York, I'll send her away."

The woman chuckled softly, her fair fingers stroking Ethan's stern face. "Ethan, is there truly no affection left for Seraphina? She did raise the child for five years and created designs for me all this time. People will call you heartless if this gets out."

"Elara, you're my only priority." Ethan took her hand, kissed it, his voice resolute and cruel. "Seraphina is nothing more than a useful tool. A free nanny. If you hadn't insisted on going to Paris for advanced studies back then, how would she ever have taken the position of Mrs. Thorne?"

The trophy slipped from my grasp.

With a dull thud, the pure gold trophy hit the thick, handmade rug, rolled twice, and bumped against the edge of the table.

That faint sound, in the dead silence of the living room, exploded like thunder.

All three on the sofa turned their heads at once.

A fleeting look of surprise flickered in Ethan's eyes, but it vanished instantly, replaced by chilling composure and indifference.

He released Elara, calmly stood up, and straightened the hem of his custom-tailored suit, as if the dirty betrayal he'd been caught in was an insignificant matter.

"Weren't you supposed to be on tomorrow afternoon's flight?" His tone was flat, even carrying a hint of annoyance at being disturbed.

I trembled all over, my nails digging into my palms. The sharp pain barely held onto my wavering sanity.

"So, Leo isn't the orphan of a good friend at all, but your and Elara's biological son?" I stared into Ethan's deep eyes, my voice hoarse as if I'd swallowed coarse sand.

Seraphina POV

Ethan frowned slightly, seemingly quite annoyed by my questioning.

"Yes." He admitted it without evasion, looking down at me haughtily. "Since you've heard it all, I no longer need to waste words hiding it from you."

The cruel truth became countless sharp blades, tearing my heart to shreds.

Five years!

My husband, whom I had deeply loved for five years, and my son, whom I cherished as a treasure, were all a lie! What I thought was mutual love and sincere affection was nothing but a long-planned scheme and exploitation.

Elara stood up, subtly leaning back into Ethan, her eyes shimmering as she looked at me, appearing utterly pitiful.

"Seraphina, don't blame Ethan. I was the one who insisted on leaving back then. He only resorted to marrying you to protect Leo. Don't worry, I won't ruin your marriage. All I want is Leo."

"Shut up!" I sharply interrupted her, my eyes bloodshot. I pointed to the door. "This is my home! Get out, and take your fake sincerity with you!"

The words had barely left my lips when Leo rushed over like a protective little animal, pushing me hard.

"Don't you dare yell at my mom! You ugly freak, you get out of my house!"

Caught off guard, I stumbled back half a step, my lower back hitting hard against the corner of a cabinet by the door. I gasped in pain.

I stared in disbelief at the hostile little boy before me. This was the child I had cared for through countless sleepless nights, the one I had held in my arms when he had a fever, not daring to close my eyes. Could a blood tie really erase five years of shared life so easily?

Ethan stepped forward, shielding Leo behind him, his eyes as cold as ice, as if I were some detestable criminal.

"Seraphina, watch your attitude. Elara isn't well; she can't handle any stress."

I laughed in anger, tears streaming silently down my pale cheeks.

"She can't handle stress, but what about me?" I pounded my chest, my voice raw with agony.

"Ethan, for these five years, I stood by you, from being the unfavored son of the Thorne family to becoming the heir of Thorne Group today. I put all my design passion, all my talent, under Elara's name, helping you pave the way for her. I gave my whole heart to you and your son. Is this how you repay me?"

Ethan's eyes were as hard as steel, completely unfazed.

"Just tell me what compensation you want. Money, a downtown property, or shares in Thorne Corp. I can give you all of it." His tone was condescending, as if he were shooing away a beggar.

"As long as you cooperate and publicly claim that all those designs were Elara's inspiration, you can keep the title of Mrs. Thorne. As long as you stay in your place, there will always be a spot for you in the Thorne family."

I looked at this man, both familiar and strange, and felt a wave of nausea.

I once believed that Ethan was the man who loved me most in the world.

In the dead of winter, if I casually mentioned a craving for tiramisu from a specific bakery, he'd drive across half of New York to get it. When I hit a design block and felt anxious, he'd hold me all night, comforting me.

It turned out all that deep affection was a disguise, all that favoritism a mere chip to pave the way for another woman.

I took a deep breath, pushing down all the brokenness and despair in my eyes, and straightened my spine.

"Ethan, we're getting a divorce."

Seraphina POV

"Divorce?"

Ethan looked as if he had heard a ridiculous joke, a sneer of contempt appearing between his brows.

He strode forward, closing in on me, his tall frame casting me in his shadow.

"Seraphina, stop making a scene." He looked down at me, his tone carrying the arrogance of someone used to getting what he wanted. "You won an award in Paris this time. Tomorrow, I'll have the PR department release a statement giving the credit to Elara's studio. As compensation, I'll give you whatever you want. A limited edition couture dress? The mansion on the east side? I'll make it happen."

His casual tone made it sound as if the heartbreaking betrayal that had just happened meant nothing. As if I were nothing more than a pet needing a treat to be quiet.

I lifted my head, my bloodshot eyes filled with stubbornness and resolve.

I gritted my teeth and repeated, "I said, I want a divorce. Ethan, are you deaf?"

Ethan's eyes darkened abruptly, the temperature around him instantly dropping to freezing point.

"Seraphina, I advise you to face reality." He slipped one hand into his pants pocket, his voice cold and unforgiving. "I'm giving you two choices."

"First, continue to be Mrs. Thorne obediently. Under the protection of Thorne Group, you can enjoy endless wealth and luxury. But you must accept Elara and Leo moving in, continue to be Elara's shadow designer, and not question my private life."

"Second, leave the Thorne family now. The consequence is that you will leave empty-handed, and all bank accounts under your name will be frozen. I will have the entire New York design community blacklist you, and you will find it impossible to get by in this industry, unable to even make a living."

He leaned in slightly, his warm breath fanning my ear, but his words were like a serpent's hiss. "So, do you still want a divorce?"

Elara stood not far away, a secretive smirk playing on her lips.

"Seraphina, Ethan is doing this for your own good. Where can a helpless orphan like you go if you leave the Thorne family? As long as you're willing to stay, we can still be one big happy family."

One big happy family?

That term was the greatest insult to me.

I stared intensely at Ethan's incredibly handsome face, the tearing pain in my heart making me momentarily disoriented.

I suddenly remembered that snowy day five years ago. Back then, Ethan had just taken over Thorne Corp., facing enemies on all sides. To secure investment, he stood in the snow for an entire night. It was I who took all my savings, even sold my mother's keepsakes, to help him through his toughest time.

That day, he knelt in the snow, slipped a plain ring he had personally polished onto my ring finger, and swore with red-rimmed eyes, "Seraphina, my life is yours. As long as I live, I will never let you suffer any injustice."

But now, the man who swore never to let me suffer was holding a knife, carving into my flesh, piece by piece.

Five years of marriage, five years of giving my all, only to be called a "free nanny."

I closed my eyes, completely extinguishing the last flicker of weakness. When I opened them again, my gaze was as clear and cold as water, devoid of any love.

"No need to choose." I took a step back, widening the distance between us. "I find it disgusting."

Ethan's face instantly turned ashen, a vein throbbing faintly on his temple.

"Fine, very good." He laughed in anger, his eyes glinting with terrifying malice. "Since you're so ungrateful, don't blame me for being ruthless."

He turned and walked to his study, retrieving a pre-drafted divorce agreement and slamming it onto the table.

"Sign it. I'd like to see how long you can remain so stubborn once you leave the Thorne family!"

Without hesitation, I walked over, picked up the pen, and decisively signed my name in the signature space.

I tossed the pen down and coldly looked at Ethan. "Ethan, from today on, you and I have no connection whatsoever. What you owe me, one day, I will make you spit it out, principal and interest."

Ethan scoffed. "Big words. I'll be waiting for the day you come crying, begging me to take you back."

"Alfred!" Ethan barked, his voice sharp. "Watch her pack her things. Aside from the junk she brought herself, she's not allowed to take anything from the Thorne house!"

With that, he put his arm around Elara's shoulders and, with Leo, went upstairs without a backward glance, as if even a second look at me was too much.

In the vast living room, I stood alone.

I straightened my spine and walked towards the bedroom I had personally decorated, filled with five years of memories. It was fine. I, Seraphina Clarke, was never a helpless orphan to be slaughtered at will.

Seraphina POV

In the bedroom, I numbly stuffed my clothes into a suitcase.

I didn't even glance at the expensive jewelry or couture gowns Ethan had bought me. I only took the few old clothes I had brought with me, and a few worn design sketches.

Footsteps sounded outside the door.

"Mean lady, are you stealing our family's stuff?"

Leo stood at the doorway, clutching a Transformer toy, glaring at me with suspicion.

My hands paused as I packed, and I turned to look at the child I had cherished for five years.

Once, if Leo so much as coughed, I'd be too anxious to sleep all night. To help him with his health, I'd scoured medical books and personally brewed herbal remedies, burning my fingers with countless blisters.

But now, the defensiveness and disgust in his eyes were like a rusty, dull knife, repeatedly cutting at my heart.

"I'm not stealing anything." My voice was flat and emotionless. "Once I have my things, I'll leave."

But Leo was relentless. He rushed into the room and snatched the jewelry box from my bedside table. It was my mother's only keepsake, a delicate antique pocket watch.

"My dad bought this! You're not allowed to take it!" Leo screamed, throwing the jewelry box hard onto the floor.

"Stop it!"

I cried out, lunging to catch it, but I was too late.

With a sharp crack, the jewelry box flew open, and the delicate pocket watch shattered into several pieces.

I froze, my mind blank.

I tremblingly reached out to pick up the fragments, but my fingertip was sliced by a sharp metal edge. Blood instantly welled up, dripping onto the pristine white rug, a shocking sight.

"Oh, Leo, how could you be so clumsy?"

Elara's voice came from the doorway. She walked in on high heels, glanced at the broken pocket watch on the floor, and a barely concealed sneer played on her lips.

She stepped forward, her slender high heel seemingly accidentally treading on a larger piece of the watch, grinding it with force.

"Seraphina, I'm so sorry. Leo is still little; he doesn't know any better. You're an adult, surely you wouldn't hold it against a four-year-old child, would you?" Elara apologized falsely, her voice full of provocation.

I suddenly looked up, my eyes red, staring at Elara. I stood up abruptly, raising my hand to slap her.

"Stop it!"

A sharp male voice suddenly rang out.

Ethan strode in, seizing my wrist. His grip was so strong it felt like my bones would shatter.

"Seraphina, are you insane? How dare you cause a scene in the Thorne house?"

Seeing this, Leo immediately burst into tears, clinging to Elara. "Mommy, I'm scared! The mean lady wants to hit me!"

Elara hugged Leo tightly, her eyes slightly red, looking utterly wronged. "Ethan, don't blame Seraphina. It's all Leo's fault for accidentally breaking her thing. But... but Leo is your own flesh and blood, how could she be so harsh?"

Ethan's face was utterly grim.

He looked at my bleeding fingers, his eyes completely devoid of pity, only profound disgust.

"It's just a cheap old pocket watch, it's not worth anything! I'll buy you ten better ones." Ethan coldly flung my hand away. "Apologize to Elara and Leo immediately!"

I stumbled, my back hitting the wardrobe.

I looked at my husband, who was protecting another woman and child, listening to him disparage my mother's keepsake as a "cheap old pocket watch." I suddenly burst into laughter.

My laughter grew louder, but tears streamed from my eyes.

"Ethan, you want me to apologize to a little bastard who smashed my mother's keepsake? You're dreaming!"

Slap!

Ethan raised his hand without hesitation, delivering a resounding slap across my face.

My head snapped to the side, and five distinct red marks instantly appeared on my pale cheek. A trickle of blood seeped from the corner of my mouth.

The entire room fell into a deathly silence.

Ethan's hand froze in mid-air, a flicker of panic in his eyes that even he might not have noticed. But he quickly suppressed that emotion, replacing it with a cold, stern expression.

"Seraphina, this is to teach you manners. In this house, Elara and Leo are the masters."

I slowly turned my head, raising the back of my hand to wipe the blood from my mouth.

My eyes were completely dead, like a stagnant pool that stirred no ripples.

"Ethan, this slap has severed the last shred of affection between us."

Without another glance at the broken pocket watch on the floor, I picked up the suitcase filled with old clothes, straightened my back, and walked out of the mansion without looking back.

The night wind outside was cold, chilling my thin clothes. I looked back at the cage that had trapped me for five years, a cold smile curving my lips.

The New York night was just beginning.

Seraphina POV

I stayed at a cheap motel for a night.

Early the next morning, I dragged my suitcase to my "Starlight" design studio, where I had poured countless hours of effort.

However, as I reached the entrance, I froze.

The "Starlight" sign that once hung there had been replaced by a brand new one: "Elara's Radiance."

The studio's glass doors were locked, and two burly security guards blocked the entrance.

"Ms. Clarke, Mr. Thorne has instructed that you've been dismissed from the studio. Everything here now belongs to Ms. Vance, and you are not allowed to enter." The security guard blocked me, his face expressionless.

I was furious, but I laughed. "Dismissed? I'm the founder of this studio, and I'm the legal representative. On what grounds can he dismiss me?"

"On the grounds that the initial funding for this studio came from Thorne Corp., and every client resource here was provided by Thorne Corp."

An arrogant female voice came from behind me.

Elara Vance, flanked by several socialite friends, strolled over on high heels. She was wearing the latest couture trench coat that I had rushed to finish over three sleepless nights, looking utterly condescending.

"Seraphina, Ethan said that since you left empty-handed, the studio naturally has to be reclaimed." Elara walked up to me, lowering her voice to a volume only we two could hear, mocking me. "Did you really think you were some genius designer? If Ethan hadn't promoted you, you wouldn't have achieved anything. Now, everything you had is mine."

A socialite nearby scoffed, loudly echoing, "Exactly! A fake, she actually thought she was Mrs. Thorne? Now that the real owner is back, shouldn't she hurry and leave?"

"She occupied the position of Mrs. Thorne for five years, truly shameless."

Facing their malicious taunts, I merely looked at Elara with cold eyes.

"Elara Vance, aren't you afraid of getting burned by stolen goods?"

"You!" Elara's face changed. She was about to erupt in anger but then, seeing past me, she instantly put on a wronged expression. "Ethan, look at her..."

Ethan stepped out of a black Maybach, his perfectly tailored suit making him look tall and imposing. He strode to Elara's side, shielding her, and his gaze swept over me, cold and sharp.

"Seraphina, what are you doing here, causing a scene?"

I looked at him, my voice clear and cold. "I've come to retrieve my design drafts."

"Those drafts are now assets of 'Elara's Radiance'." Ethan refused without mercy. "Since you signed the divorce agreement, you should know the rules. Everything here belongs to Elara. Leave immediately."

I took a deep breath, suppressing the surging pain in my chest.

"Fine, Ethan, you're truly ruthless."

I turned to leave, but my phone rang abruptly at that moment. It was an international call from the Paris International Jewelry Design Competition organizing committee.

I pressed the answer button. The person on the other end said, "Ms. Clarke, we regret to inform you that the committee has just received an anonymous complaint accusing your winning work, 'Starlight,' of plagiarizing Ms. Elara Vance's discarded sketches. After initial verification, we will temporarily revoke your gold award and issue a public reprimand across the industry. You will be banned from participating in any international competitions for the next five years."

My phone slipped from my ear.

I froze, all the blood in my body seemingly drained in an instant, as if I had fallen into an ice abyss.

Plagiarism?

'Starlight' was my brainchild, the culmination of countless hours, like a mother carrying a child for ten months. Every line, every gem setting, was the crystallization of my dedication over countless days and nights. Now, it was being tainted with accusations of plagiarism?

I suddenly turned my head, staring intently at Ethan.

"Was it you?" My voice trembled, raw with despair. "Ethan, did you report me to the committee?"

Ethan met my broken gaze, his eyes completely unfazed, chillingly calm.

"Yes," he said flatly. "Elara is about to negotiate a partnership with the international luxury brand V Group. She needs a prestigious international award to establish her status. The concept of 'Starlight' was originally inspired by her, so letting her have this award is what you owe her."

I felt my soul being completely torn apart at that moment.

I looked at the man before me, feeling he was more terrifying than any demon from hell. He not only wanted to strip me of my marriage and my dignity but also to personally destroy the career and dreams I valued more than my life!

"Ethan, you're not even human!" I screamed, my eyes brimming with intense hatred. "To promote her, you're willing to crush me into the mud, never to rise again?"

Ethan frowned, seeming annoyed by my loss of control.

"This is your own doing. If you had just behaved and not brought up divorce, things wouldn't have escalated to this point." He coldly delivered his final judgment. "Seraphina, in New York, if I say you're guilty, you're guilty. From today on, the design world will have no place for you."

Seraphina POV

That evening, in the ballroom of a top-tier Hilton Hotel in New York.

It was a charity gala, gathering all the business elites and design gurus of New York. I wore a simple black dress, moving through the crowd. I needed investment, funding to rebuild my studio, and to clear my name from the plagiarism accusation.

But every time I offered my business card, those CEOs who once greeted me with smiles now avoided me as if I were a demon.

"Ms. Clarke, Mr. Thorne has already made it clear that anyone who works with you is opposing Thorne Group. We can't afford to go against Thorne Corp."

"A plagiarizer dares to show her face here? Get out of here!"

The mockery enveloped me like a tide. I clenched the business card in my hand, my knuckles white.

Just then, the ballroom doors were respectfully pushed open by a waiter. All eyes instantly converged.

Ethan, in a perfectly tailored custom suit, entered with Elara Vance on his arm, dressed to the nines. Elara wore a dazzling starry-blue gown, and around her long, elegant neck, she sported the brilliant necklace, 'Starlight.'

That was my masterpiece.

Ethan had once told me, "Seraphina, this necklace is the crystallization of your soul. I will lock it in the Thorne family's safe as an eternal testament to our love, never letting anyone touch it."

Now, that necklace hung around another woman's neck, a symbol for Elara to flaunt.

I stood in the corner, watching them walk to the head table, the center of attention. My heart felt as if it was being crushed by an invisible hand, making it impossible to breathe.

Elara's gaze swept through the crowd, quickly locking onto me in the corner. A malicious smile played on her lips. She picked up a glass of red wine and sashayed over.

"Well, well, isn't this Seraphina? Why are you hiding by yourself? Can't even afford to rent a decent gown?" Elara deliberately raised her voice, causing people around us to turn and look.

I looked at her coldly. "Move."

"Still so temperamental." Elara chuckled softly, then suddenly stumbled, causing the red wine glass in her hand to tilt.

The crimson liquid spilled precisely onto Elara's own diamond-encrusted high heels.

"Ah!" Elara shrieked, instantly putting on a tearful expression. "Seraphina, I know you hate me for taking your award, but you can't just throw red wine on me. These shoes were custom-made for me by Ethan from Italy..."

A chorus of accusations immediately erupted around us.

"This woman is so malicious!"

"Plagiarizing someone else's work is bad enough. Now she's publicly throwing wine on someone? How uncivilized!"

Ethan strode over, and seeing the wine stains on Elara's dress and shoes, his face instantly turned ashen.

"Seraphina, haven't you caused enough trouble?" He pulled Elara behind him, his gaze piercing me sharply.

I was speechless, but I straightened my spine, meeting his devouring gaze. "I didn't throw it on her; she spilled it herself."

"You're still lying!" Ethan was furious. "Elara is so frail, how would she spill it on herself? Seraphina, you're truly disgustingly malicious!"

He pointed to the high heels on Elara's feet, issuing a cold command. "Get down immediately and clean Elara's shoes. Otherwise, I guarantee you won't leave this door tonight, and tomorrow you'll be sent to jail for commercial fraud!"

The mocking laughter intensified.

I looked at Ethan's cruel, emotionless face and suddenly felt an absurd sense of irony. The man I once loved so deeply now wanted me to publicly clean another woman's shoes just to please her?

The last flicker of light in my eyes completely died out.

I didn't cry. Instead, a smile curved my lips.

I slowly crouched down. Under everyone's scornful gazes, I took a tissue from a waiter's tray and, bit by bit, wiped the red wine stains from Elara's shoe.

Elara looked down at me, her eyes full of a victor's wild triumph.

After wiping away the last speck of dirt, I stood up. I balled the wine-stained tissue and threw it hard at Ethan's chest.

"Ethan, these past five years, consider me blind."

With that, I didn't bother looking at Ethan's enraged face. I pushed through the crowd and walked out of the ballroom without looking back.

Outside, a torrential rain had started at some point.

I didn't open an umbrella. My thin figure was instantly swallowed by the downpour.

The cold rain lashed against me, but it was far less chilling than the cold in my heart.