Jonathan's POV
"Jonathan…"
"Jonathan…"
I got up, picked the file and began walking towards the door.
"Come on, you're making a fuss over an irrelevant person."
I stopped for a brief moment.
I didn't look back.
"Is Rollings Designs also irrelevant too–
that you used it to cover your fake designs too?"
"Jonathan, no one knows, and no one will know."
She paused.
"Just stay away from him."
I raised the folder.
"I will compensate Daniel for every Rollings Designs customer you gave. As for yours, you're on your own."
With that I walked out.
My anger was evident from the loud slam of the door behind me as I walked out of her office.
Her words kept echoing in my head.
For us.
She always used these words.
Back then..
I never bothered.
Today…
On hearing these two words, my anger was boiling to a level I never knew I had.
The staff was watching wide eyed as I never stormed out of her office like this.
But today I regretted giving her so much value.
After leaving her office, I didn't go to my office or home.
I kept driving around as her words echoed:
"I did it for us."
Finally, I stopped on the side, as my mind was a mess.
I didn't know what I should do next.
One thing I was sure of, I wasn't going to live in guilt of stealing someone else's designs.
My gaze fell on the folder.
Daniel Staf.
The name was evident.
"Yes, that's exactly what I should do."
I said and drove off.
Going back to my office made no sense.
I would only review the files again.
Home..
Rest was the last thing that was on my mind.
Ever since I found out even my customers bought Harmon Designs made by using Daniel's designs, I couldn't let go.
Even though I didn't know, now I was feeling guilty.
As a designer, I knew how one would feel to know his design was stolen and sold off with no credit , with no pay.
One thing I was sure of…
I would compensate Daniel. One way or another.
Either I would pay him or I would get the designs back from my customers.
But…
Now that I knew they had a personal relationship,
I had lots of questions.
I had to know who was right, and who was wrong that led them to this.
One thing that I was certain of,
If I wanted answers to any of these questions,
Imelda is definitely not the one to tell.
With this fact straight,
I was clear on where I should head to.
I took a deep breath.
I turned the engine on, and drove off.
D. S. Studios
I turned the engine off and took a look at the building in front of me.
What stood before me was the elite painting house of the city.
His auctions fetched not only the elite of the city, but from across cities as well.
Today Daniel was the king of painting houses.
His paintings,
As his fans say: He puts life in his paintings.
I walked over, and was expecting the receptionist to stop me.
But I was shocked.
"Mr. Rollings," he said with a bright smile. "Daniel's waiting for you."
"Daniel?"
My brows pinched.
"His staff calls him by his name?"
Then I smiled.
I would too, if I wasn't with Imelda, a rich kid born with a silver spoon, who thinks only the rich are equal.
He rang a bell from his desk and called a name.
A young boy around seventeen came forward.
"Take Mr. Rollings to Daniel's office."
"Yes," the boy said, smiling.
The atmosphere felt light, happy.
Every staff member had a calm smile on their face.
"Hey kid," I asked as I was walking behind the boy.
"You really work here?"
"Yup,"
"And school?"
"Of course I go to school," he said walking forward.
"Daniel said he'd keep me only if I continued my studies."
"My dad worked for Daniel," he continued. "But he died in a car crash. Daniel said he'd give dad's salary every month, but mom…she's too proud. So she refused. Then Daniel said, I can join here for small errands, like this talking you to meet him. And after my studies are complete, he'll give me a place here. Oh, he pays me what he paid dad."
Before coming here, I had a different image of Daniel in my mind…
Now I had a different image in my mind.
On entering his office, the atmosphere was calm, even though canvases were laid around, paint brushes were here and there, and an incomplete painting was on the stand.
"Jonathan," he said, getting up. "I was waiting for you."
I let out a breath of relief.
As I knew he would be waiting for me.
For the first time, I felt like a human meeting a human.
No ego, no vendetta, no competition.
Just two human beings.
"You can show me what you want."
I sat holding the folder in my hand.
I was not surprised he already knew why I came here.
"I know by now you know the cases I filed against her…are legit."
I opened the folder, and removed the designs Imelda sold to my customers.
"These are your designs she sold to my customers as hers or Fredrick's designs."
"Money or the—"
He cut my words mid-way.
"From you," he said. "Only if you had known."
"That I know, you never knew."
"I also know you're with her for a reason," he said. "What I don't know, but must be grave for you to…"
He trailed off.
I don't know why, but I felt like he wanted to mention Veronica but stopped.
"And hers?"
"Sorry," I said.
I placed the folder open in front of him.
"These are xerox copies of the designs," I said showing him. "The originals are with me."
I leaned back.
"What's not mine, I can't give," I said. "I hope you understand."
"Jonathan," he said, pushing the folder back.
"I never wanted these designs back in the first place."
He waved his arms around.
"Look," he said. "I'm no longer a jewelry designer. I'm a painter."
His expression changed.
From twinkling eyes to an empty stare.
"Jewelry designing was my childhood passion," he said.
"After losing so many times against her, my image in the market was ruined."
"Later I turned towards painting and made my comeback."
"All I want is justice," he said with a raised head. "I want everyone to know those designs were mine."
"Mine," I said in a steady voice. "They all will know by tomorrow."
"What?"
"Don't sweat," I said. "They all know those designs aren't made by me. So, telling them the real designer's name is no big deal."
"But didn't they buy Harmon Designs?" He said with pinched brows.
"Yes," I said leaning back. "But she didn't claim them as Harmon Designs. The designer is anonymous."
"Only the ones she sold to her own clients," I continued. "Are labelled as Harmon Designs. No Imelda or Fredrick. Only Harmon."
"So, even if she announces them as mine, she won't be implicated?"
This was the first time I heard a hurt in his voice.
"Don't worry," I said. "When the time comes, she'll pay. But first she has to pay mine."
"But we can begin," I said with a smirk.
"Okay," Daniel said and got up.
He walked towards a painting on the wall.
I smiled as he moved the painting to reveal a vault.
He came back holding a folder.
"Here," he said, passing the file.
As I opened it and reviewed the content, he continued.
"These are my original designs. Verified by the council."
"Every email and every submission, date wise."
On reviewing I found out every design's date was before my company came around.
"You can begin from these."
I scanned the sketches.
Raw with timestamps and his original signature.
And clearly before my company came to existence and before Imelda released her sketches.
"Honestly," he sad with sadness evident in his eyes and voice. "After losing the last case, and losing my name as a dignified designer, I didn't care about the cases anymore."
"I left and began working random jobs."
"Then I found designers can be painters too," he said with a smile. "I took the path."
"Now, I just want them to know I designed them. They're not just sketches, they're my feelings."
Something in his tone was off…
It wasn't anger.
It was…exhaustion.
"I'm sure you know the designs aren't the only reason I'm here," I said.
"I knew her from college,"
Daniel did reveal knowing her, but was it only a 'knew'.
"I trusted her more than myself,"
Simple words, too simple.
"That was my biggest mistake."
Five simple words.
Each carried more weight than the other.
"And I paid for it with my dream."
I could feel his pain in those words.
"How did she get hold of your designs?"
My question got him off guard as he froze for a brief moment.
He removed another file from the folder.
I reviewed the content.
The folder had details of five clients from the list I compiled from the USB drives.
The ones for whom Veronica used to deliver late at night.
"I never had direct contact with them…as they were higher up."
He paused.
"Someone used to handle the transfers," he said.
"That's why I never knew I was sending them to her."
"I never knew the designs were going to her or your office."
"Only when the designs were released, or worn by a socialite, I found out."
"Oh," he said, recalling. "One more thing. I heard Imelda had hired someone for her late night work. That person might know who the designer was who copied my work."
My heart skipped a beat as he mentioned the person who did Imelda's late night work.
"Do you have a grudge against that person?"
My voice was hesitant, too hesitant.
I got a little scared, he might find out.
"Grudge?" he said smiling. "Why? That person was only doing his job. But yes, he must know who's place he was going to."
I relaxed a bit.
My mind raced as I began to connect the dots in my mind.
Designs…files.
Late night deliveries.
His signature.
His initials.
One name…
I didn't want to connect to his work.
But somewhere at the back of my head, I had.
"I think you're closer to your answer."
"Oh," I said. "What makes you think so?"
"Your eyes," he said. "You seem to have pinpointed on something."
"I have," I said in an uneasy feeling.
"You're going in the right direction," he said.
"Only, I think you're a little derailed."
"Jonathan, that delivery person—"
"I know," I said. "That person is the main link. But that person…left."
I don't know if he understood, but I hoped he didn't.
"Another thing," he said. "You do know letting your clients know about this could bring you under legal circumstances. They could sue you, or even destroy you."
"Daniel," I said in a frank voice.
"I think you can vow for this," I continued. "A man who made his way from scratch, from zero to billions, can make do again."
"Rollings Designs will not fall," I said. "I never play on Rollings Design's reputation."
"Even if I do tell the designs are yours and not Harmon's," I leaned back. "I won't be implicated as I am only a third party."
"But Imelda—"
"Won't let me go?" I cut his words. "I have more than enough on her to keep her at bay."
I took a deep breath.
"She stole seven years of my life and destroyed my family."
"The moment I get my family back," I said in a cold tone. "She's going down."
"If so," Daniel said leaning forward with his hand held out.
"We need to find the person who dealt with the transfers,"
"Then the delivery person."
"They'll have all the details we need."
My breath slowed down.
Because deep down, I already knew who the delivery person was.
Only need to find the person who transferred the designs.