Ava's POV
A sharp laugh escaped me, bitter and incredulous. Everything snapped into place at once.
Laura must have found the bowl while digging through my belongings, assumed it was complete, and submitted it as her own masterpiece.
How absurd… how shameless.
I searched deeper into her portfolio. One by one, rage coiled tighter in my chest. Most of the showcased works were either mine... or crude imitations of mine.
The only truly original design I found was a childish daisy pattern with no sophistication at all.
And this woman had opened a studio? Taken commissions? Presented herself as an elite artisan?
My wolf bared her teeth. What a fraud.
“Exactly.”
I considered another possibility. Maybe she was using ghost artists. This meant skilled restorers were creating the work for her
