Chapter 1092: Chapter 1092

Chapter 1092:

After he finished speaking, Abram shifted his gaze directly to Fabian. “You should have access to the contacts for our senior designers,” he added. “Feel free to check with them whenever you want.” His calm confidence carried an air of authority.

Fabian’s brow knit tightly. He wasn’t one to trust words — proof was all that mattered.

“Get someone to place the call,” he ordered curtly.

In no time, the line to SAMSARA studio was connected. A voice on the other end, cautious but professional, asked for the caller’s name and reason for contacting them.

When Fabian introduced himself over the call, the tone on the other end immediately shifted to one of respect.

“Oh, Mr. Morgan! Happy birthday! We heard someone commissioned a custom pair of shoes from our studio as a gift for you. Have they arrived safely?”

“They have,” Fabian replied coolly. “But there’s some confusion about who designed them.” He let his eyes flicker between Allison and Abram, his expression unreadable.

“Are you familiar with a designer named Allison?”

There was a pause on the line. Then came the sound of a nervous throat clearing, followed by a hesitant reply.

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“Could you clarify who you mean, exactly?”

Abram, without warning, cut into the conversation. “Don’t bother pretending!” he snapped, his voice sharp. “You know perfectly well who he’s talking about — Allison Clarke! We might’ve been colleagues once, but this isn’t the moment to cover for her!”

Abram’s words rang clearly through the phone, leaving no room for misinterpretation.

The person on the other end fell silent once more, the pause stretching uncomfortably. If anything happened to Abram, the studio’s reputation would also be affected.

Fabian, ever composed, broke the tension. “What’s the full story here?” he asked, his tone firm but measured.

The voice on the line hesitated, then spoke, clearly trying to choose their words carefully. “Yes, Allison worked with us as a designer,” they admitted. “But she was let go after being caught plagiarizing. I’d rather not say any more. Apologies.”

Before anyone could respond, the line abruptly disconnected.

It was obvious that they were too nervous to continue the conversation.

Hearing this, Allison blinked her eyes, her lips curling into a frosty smile, her expression unreadable.

The manager on the call had once been an old acquaintance of Allison’s. Yet, shockingly, they had distorted the facts and even gone so far as to smear her name — all for the sake of protecting the studio’s image.

Afterward, Fabian reached out to other staff members from the studio to verify the story. Strangely, their responses were all remarkably similar.

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