Chapter 159
< Chapter 158 Donate the Manuscript
Clamm
Chapter 158 Donate the Manuscript
“Impossible p>
The denial tore out of Bob before he could think.
His veins bulging as he shouted hoarsely, “This is a mistake! You are nothing but a castaway; There is no way you crushed all the competitors, including the Reese Group’s top designers! Impossible! Claire, you-
there’s no way you’re Seere p>
“Bob,” I cut him off, “I told you. One day, I’d make you choke on your own disbelief. I promise that this is only the beginning. Now hand me the trophy. Don’t drag the Reese family-and yourself-into utter humiliation before the whole world. This is being filmed live, remember p>
Bob’s face went ashen.
I could see that he wanted to deny it -heck, everyone here could see that -but under the crushing weight of the moment and in front of a global audience, he had no choice.
His lips stretched into a stiff, twisted smile as he finally placed the golden trophy into my hand.
I accepted it with poise, then stepped to the podium. It was time for the gold medalist’s speech. The very
words that I had been waiting to say for years.
“First of all, I sincerely thank the organizers for recognizing my work and granting me this honour. But standing under these lights, the one I most wish to thank is not tonight’s applause p>
I paused, then released all the force I had held back over the years.
“-but a great designer who left us long ago-my father, Sean Reese p>
The name fell like a forbidden spell, and the entire room went cold.
For years, no one dared to utter that name. But it had never faded.
Nearly forty years ago, the city was beginning to see significant growth. The population was just over half
a million people, but there were areas that were still severely lacking development.
It was Sean Reese who saw its potential to become the metropolis it is now. With Red Deer as his hometown, he built a furniture factory from the ground up. There were many smaller stores around the city, but none had their own factories in the town, much less in the country. This set my father above the rest in quality assurance and speed of delivery.
My father was a master designer, never afraid to get his hands dirty and customize orders himself. This is what Reese Furniture was known for; he didn’t take shortcuts to make a quick buck.
But when he died suddenly, Steven seized the title of “founder p>
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From then on, the name ‘Sean Reese’ was banished into silence-those who mentioned him were removed
from the company.
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And now, my declaration was a thunderclap, a bomb dropped into the depths of the ballroom Reminding them all that my father was the reason they were all here today!
I was letting them all know that the gold medalist, Seere, was Sean’s forgotten daughter. Sean’s bloodline had never been lost. I was letting them know that I not only lived, but I had inherited my father’s brilliance
and returned in glory.
“My Goddess! Seere-is Sean’s daughter p>
“Didn’t they say she left with her mother and remarried in Edmonton? That she’d abandoned her roots? But -she didn’t forget! Amazing! Sean must be smiling in the meadow, knowing his legacy lives on p>
“If only he could see her winning this prize here, in his homeland. Ah, but the past p>
“Shh! Careful what you say. Offend the Reese family in power, and we won’t even keep our scraps to eat p>
The whispers swelled, unstoppable. The host tried in vain to calm the room, but the tide could not be
stemmed.
Out of fear of the Reese family, no one dared say too much-but one by one, they began to applaud in pride and support of my rise in the industry, with respect to my father.
And the applause swelled into a tidal wave, roaring through the hall without end.
I blinked through my tears as I gazed at the crowd, their clapping relentless. In that moment, my faith in my plan was solidified.
My father was gone. But his spirit, his essence, lived on in their hearts.
The Reese Group of today was nothing more than a pack of jackals propped up by power.
They could never understand what my father had once wielded-the power to unite an entire city with his
name alone. That is the true power in this world: heart and integrity.
I raised my hand.
At once, the applause fell silent.
I lifted the microphone, my voice ringing firm and resolute.
“To carry forward my father’s stolen legacy, and to give back to the land that raised me, I have decided to donate the design manuscript that won me this gold award-free of charge-to all furniture makers in
Canada p>
My gaze swept the audience, meeting every stunned, fervent face. I declared solemnly, “Any factory willing to produce this series may contact me directly. All, that is, except for companies allied with the false foun der, Steven Reese p>
Boom!
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The hall erupted. Chairs clattered to the floor.
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Every person in the furniture trade-factory owners, artisans, designers-rose to their feet in unison. Gasps
of disbelief filled the air.
Lucia Morh
Lucia Morh is a passionate storyteller who brings emotions to life through her words. When she’s not writing, she finds peace nurturing her garden.