Chapter 51
Sophia Kensington stared at the event staff, her face a mask of disbelief.
“Are you absolutely certain there’s no mistake?” Her voice dripped with skepticism. “The rules explicitly state that only the top ten finalists from the first Perfumery Competition are granted access to the exclusive lounge.”
She had shamelessly claimed to be the legendary champion, Scarlet Snake, in front of Ethan Blackwood. But the truth was far from it.
Before arriving, she had spun a lie to Ethan, insisting she preferred humility over the flashy SVIP treatment.
Yet here stood Isabella Sinclair, being ushered in with the highest privileges? It felt like a slap in the face.
Ethan scoffed, his tone laced with derision.
“How incompetent can your organization be? Do you just let anyone waltz in unchecked?”
The staff member remained unshaken, offering a polite but unwavering smile.
“The selection process is rigorous. Every participant is thoroughly vetted. There are no errors.”
“Then someone deceived you!” Ethan raised his voice, drawing the attention of nearby guests. “Call your supervisor. Isabella must have manipulated the records. I know her—she dropped out of high school, lived off scraps. Since when could she craft perfumes?”
His narrowed eyes locked onto Isabella, relishing the chance to humiliate her.
The first International Perfume Competition had taken place overseas when Isabella was just sixteen—a penniless orphan. Back then, the world of perfumery was as distant to her as luxury was unattainable. The idea that she could have competed among professionals was laughable.
Just as the staff hesitated, considering calling security, a sharp, icy voice sliced through the murmurs.
“I wasn’t aware this venue had become a gathering place for fools.”
Heads turned as a man in a wheelchair approached, his expression unreadable as stone.
Alexander Kingsley.
His presence was suffocating, his piercing gaze enough to freeze the room. The crimson mole at his throat only accentuated his predatory aura.
“Mr. Kingsley,” whispers rippled through the crowd. Some stepped back instinctively.
“Who is that?” a newcomer murmured.
“You don’t know? The heir to the Kingsley empire. Self-made billionaire. CEO of the largest luxury conglomerate in the world. Even if you haven’t met him, you’ve seen his name on every Forbes list.”
Alexander’s cold stare settled on Ethan.
“If you believe this competition is so poorly managed that random spectators can question its integrity, why bother participating at all?”
Ethan stiffened, the memory of past humiliation flashing in his mind. He forced a weak smile.
“Mr. Kingsley, you misunderstand. I wasn’t questioning the competition itself—”
Sophia quickly interjected, her voice saccharine.
“Exactly! We were merely surprised. This year’s contest is open to all, and we didn’t expect Isabella to qualify. If she truly ranked in the top ten of the first competition, we were just curious about her alias. No harm intended.”
Isabella took a slow sip of champagne before cutting in.
“According to the rules, only the top ten’s identities can be disclosed. Miss Kensington, are you suggesting we break them?”
Sophia faltered, her grip tightening on Ethan’s arm as if seeking validation.
“Well then, let’s hope Isabella makes the top ten again this year. Even Ethan had no idea she dabbled in perfumery. We’re all eager to see how this plays out.”
Ethan smirked, fingers entwined with Sophia’s.
“Some people put on airs, but it’s pointless. You, Sophia, are the real talent. Too humble to flaunt your title as Scarlet Snake—otherwise, you’d have already walked the SVIP corridor.”
Sophia’s stomach dropped. She hadn’t expected him to say it so boldly.
Before she could backtrack, a soft, mocking laugh echoed from across the room.
Isabella’s lips curled.
“Scarlet Snake, the genius perfumer? How amusing.”
