Chapter 52: Triplets’ Mighty Mom Chapter 52

Triplets’ Mighty Mom NovelWords: 4610

Chapter 52 What Would Come, Would Come

Jasmine had not expected to score so high. She was so stunned that she blanked out for a moment.

I can't believe she not only did not give me grief out of spite, but she also gave me such a high

score. Thus, she gave a deep bow. Her bow was mainly to show her gratitude toward Camila for

being fair and not holding any grudges against her. Afterward, the live show continued. There were

a total of ten designers, and Camila had already seen nine of them. Even so, she had yet to see Lyla's

design. She was quite curious about what kind of designs Lyla could come up with. However, she

didn’t know what Lyla was trying to do after pulling that farce today. Therefore, she was feeling

rather anxious about it. Finally, she finished scoring nine of the designers. Then, she massaged her

temples. After watching the runway for so long, her eyes were beginning to tire. Silas had been

watching Camila the entire time. He didn't even spare a single glance at the fashion show going on.

Listening to the suggestions and opinions she gave those designers, he found his perception of her

professionalism increasing the more he listened.

He, who usually couldn't bear staying at gatherings for more than an hour, had stayed in his seat for

nearly two hours now. Meanwhile, the host smiled again and introduced the final designer, “Next,

let us welcome our last designer, Lyla Brooklyn, and her design team! Their works have been well-

received among the audience and have taken the top spot among the rankings! Now, let us

welcome them onstage!” After that, a gentle melody played by a harp sounded throughout the

front hall, matching perfectly with the models who came walking out slowly.

The four models wore four different styles of dresses, each incorporating the four gentlemen of the

seasons: the plum blossom, the orchid, the bamboo, and the chrysanthemum. The colors and

designs of each outfit were distinct and stood apart from each other-they were elegant and noble

whilst still incorporating the cultural heritage of the country. As soon as they appeared on stage, it

gave off a dazzling feeling. When Silas heard Lyla’s name, he scowled. Why is she here too?

However, his expression changed completely when he saw the models walking out. Then, he took

out his phone and looked through it. At the same time, Xavier leaned over, asking, “President Nolan,

don't you think the plum blossom-themed design looks awfully similar to the design in Miss

Brooklyn's portfolio?”

He glanced at Xavier. “You think so too?” Xavier nodded, but his gaze did not leave the model. “It's

identical.” Just then, Silas found the picture of Camila’s design on his phone. It really is like two peas

in a pod-they were exactly the same! This is clearly plagiarism! He cast his glance at Camila and saw

that she had already stood up. “Stop!” Everybody was confused by her actions, and they all looked

at her. Camila was so angry that her face looked pale. I was wondering what kind of design Lyla

could come up with. Instead, she turned out to be so brainless! It's blatant copy-and-paste; she

didn't even make any changes to it whatsoever! At the same time, the model stopped in her tracks

and stared at Camila suspiciously. The host didn't understand what was going on. Walking over to

her, he asked, “Miss Brooklyn, what's wrong?” “Whose design is this?” Camila raged. The host

seemed taken aback for a moment. “All four designs were designed by Miss Lyla Brooklyn.” Then,

she said, “Bring her here!” Lyla, who had been watching everything going on in the front hall from

backstage, couldn't help feeling uneasy. She had assumed that Camila was a participant. Therefore,

she was banking on the fact that when Camila claimed she had stolen her designs, she could

counter by saying that Camila was adopting malicious methods to kick her out of the competition

by deliberately slandering her. After all, Camila had no proof. How could I have known that she

turned out to be a judge? Thus, when she heard the host asking for her to go on stage, she knew

that what would come, would come-the inevitable was about to happen. Taking a deep breath, she

glanced at Sarah, who was standing beside her. Sarah came over immediately and helped her walk

out to the front hall, step by step. Lyla was limping; the slap mark on her face was still clear as day.

She had a band-aid on her forehead. No matter who saw her current state, they would probably ask

after her.

The host frowned slightly and asked in a gentle voice, “Miss Brooklyn, what happened to you?”