Chapter 8

"Borrow?" Winona roared, blood rushing to her head. "So, you just stole my work for her? Those were my babies, Caleb!" "That's dramatic." Caleb frowned, adding, "It's just a few photos. I can give you whatever compensation—" Her body trembled from the intense fury as she cut him off. "Dramatic? I'll show you what's dramatic, then. I'm gonna crash her exhibition and let everyone know just how much of a fraud she is!" Caleb grabbed her wrist, holding tight enough that she couldn't pull away. "Stop it, Winnie!" "Let go of me!" They struggled at the top of the stairs. Winona jerked her arm free, but her foot slipped. With a sharp cry, she lost her balance and tumbled down the steps. "Winnie!" Caleb exclaimed. Pale, he rushed after her, scooped her into his arms, and asked in a panic, "Are you okay? Where does it hurt?" The household staff came running, equally flustered. "Mr. Solt, should we call an ambulance?" Caleb quickly checked Winona. Her ankle was swollen and bruised, but she didn't seem to have any other serious injuries. After a moment's thought, he replied, "Call the private doctor instead. Have him come right away." He carried her to the couch in the living room, then added, "Stay with her. And don't let her leave the house for now." Winona's heart sank. The pain in her ankle was nothing compared to the weight of his words. To stop her from confronting Miranda, he actually planned to lock her up. Soon, the private doctor arrived to treat her sprained ankle. When he set the bone, the sharp pain made her gasp and break into a sweat. Caleb stood quietly beside her, watching her struggle. Then, he held out his arm near her mouth and muttered, "If it hurts, bite me." Winona's chest burned with anger and frustration. Without thinking, she bit down hard, pouring every ounce of her hatred into it. Her teeth sank deep into his flesh. Blood oozed out, staining his shirt sleeve and arm. He didn't flinch, just watched her quietly as she vented her rage. The private doctor finished treating her ankle, left some ointment, and departed. Caleb stared at the bleeding bite mark on his arm, lost in thought. Winona finally released him, her eyes cold. "What's wrong? Regret settling in?" He shook his head and met her gaze, though unreadable. "No, I was just thinking how everyone calls you a wildcat, and… Well, it seems they weren't exaggerating." He paused, then pulled a black card from his wallet. "I know you're upset about the photos. This card has no spending limit, so consider it compensation." Winona looked at the black card, a symbol of endless wealth, and felt only irony. "You really think she can just steal my photos, and everything will be fine? If anything, I should be the last person she steals from." Caleb frowned. "What does that mean?" Just then, his assistant, Dylan Price, rushed in, holding a tablet. "Mr. Solt, bad news! There's a huge backlash online, accusing Ms. Granger of plagiarizing Mrs. Solt's work at her exhibition! "They're saying she copied everything, from the style to the composition! The topic has gone viral, and her reputation is taking a serious hit!" Caleb took the tablet and quickly scanned the trending topics. His expression darkened. Looking up, his gaze was sharp as he questioned Winona, "Did you leak this?" She met his eyes without fear, a mocking smile on her lips. "Didn't you see the comments? She shot herself in the foot. She can try to steal anyone's work, but she should never have touched mine. "My photography style is unique—my use of light, composition, and mood all carry my personal mark. Anyone in the industry can recognize it instantly." With barely concealed admiration, Dylan added softly, "She's right. Her work is highly recognizable. It's really easy for people to spot—" Caleb shot Dylan a cold glance. The latter immediately lowered his head and fell silent. Caleb handed back the tablet and picked up Winona's phone, placing it directly in front of her. "Repost the article about the accusation and clarify that this has nothing to do with you, that all those works were created by Miranda alone." She stared at him in disbelief. "Why should I?" "Because I don't want this to spiral further and affect Miranda," he answered coldly. "Now, do what I say." "Never!" Caleb's gaze darkened at her stubbornness. He said nothing more and turned to the household staff beside him. "Take her to the confinement room. She can come out when she's decided to post it." The confinement room? Winona froze, her blood turning to ice. She was terrified of the dark. When she was little, her parents had gone on a trip and left her alone at home. That night, the villa lost power. She cried and screamed in the endless darkness until the maid found her the next morning. From then on, she carried a deep, paralyzing fear of enclosed dark spaces. She had only ever told Caleb about it. Once, during a temporary power outage in the villa, she had trembled in fear. He had held her and whispered, "It's okay. I'm here. You don't have to be afraid anymore." Yet now, he was using her deepest fear to force her to submit to the woman who had hurt her and stolen her work. Winona was half-led, half-pulled by the household staff into the windowless room.