Chapter 52
Isabella barely suppressed a laugh at the mention of “Scarlet Snake.” She shot Sophia a dismissive glance, her lips twisting into a mocking smirk.
“Honestly, I’d bet my last dollar you’re a fraud. You can’t even verify your own identity.”
Sophia’s face drained of color, her fingers curling into tight fists. It was obvious—Isabella and Olivia were deliberately provoking her, and it was working. The mere idea of having her past scrutinized made Sophia’s stomach churn.
Biting her lower lip, she murmured, “I never claimed to be Scarlet Snake. Yes, I won championships before, but that was years ago. Now, I rely solely on my skills.”
She neither confirmed nor denied anything, leaving just enough ambiguity to keep them guessing while hinting at her supposed legacy. Her flushed cheeks and defiant glare made her look like a cornered animal, desperate but powerless.
Ethan, noticing her distress, immediately stepped between them. “Enough of this nonsense. She doesn’t owe you proof. Sophia has every right to keep her past private. Some of you won’t even rank in the top fifty—wonder how you’ll handle that embarrassment.”
Alexander remained still, his expression unreadable. Years ago, the one who had defeated him in the first Leswington Perfumery Competition was none other than Scarlet Snake. Could Sophia truly be her? His gaze flickered briefly toward her. If she was, the image he’d held in his mind all these years felt distorted, almost grotesque.
Olivia, meanwhile, maintained her composure, watching Ethan’s rising irritation with an amused smile. “Well then, let’s congratulate Sophia in advance for winning this year’s competition. That should settle any doubts about her remarkable talent.”
Her saccharine tone was like a slap to the face. Ethan’s jaw tightened, his voice laced with venom. “If envy were a sport, you’d all be gold medalists. I don’t care how you weaseled into the SVIP section, but let’s be clear—counterfeits will never pass for the real thing.”
The entire venue was under strict surveillance, ensuring no foul play. Each contestant’s work would be judged anonymously by an international panel—cheating was impossible.
Olivia’s smile widened. “Exactly. Fakes never last.”
Though her tone was light, the barb struck deep, forcing Sophia to avert her eyes.
Then Alexander spoke, his voice slicing through the tension. “I’ve often wondered what kind of people drag down the collective intelligence of a room.”
A single sentence from him carried the weight of a blade. “If connections were all it took, Mr. Blackwood, why didn’t you bring your girlfriend into the SVIP section too? Too principled? Or just out of your league?”
The title Mr. Blackwood was a deliberate jab, a reminder of the humiliation Ethan had suffered at Alexander’s hands in Athton. His expression darkened, but he recovered swiftly. “I was joking earlier. If you have nothing to hide, there’s no reason to feel threatened.”
At the sight of Alexander, Sophia stiffened, forcing a strained smile. “I didn’t expect to see you here, Mr. Kingsley. Fate seems determined to reunite us since our first meeting in Athton.”
Alexander didn’t bother acknowledging either of them. His gaze flicked over Sophia before dismissing her entirely—pathetic, trying to forge a connection through past embarrassments.
He turned to Isabella instead, his tone casual. “Did you compete in that first Perfumery Competition?”
“Of course.” Their eyes met, and in that silent exchange, she understood the depth of his question.
“Then let’s not waste time on these tired games. Shall we focus on what actually matters?”
A familiar spark flickered in Alexander’s eyes as his smile deepened.
