The crowd buzzed with unease, particularly the eliminated contestants whose expressions darkened with suspicion.
Whispers slithered through the air like venomous snakes.
Maybe the competition wasn’t as impartial as they’d believed.
“Sophia has a point,” someone muttered. “Scarlet Snake appeared out of nowhere years ago, shaking the perfume industry to its core. How could someone who vanished for so long just be… this young woman?”
Another voice, sharp with bitterness, cut in. “After my loss that year, I spent a fortune hiring investigators to track down the finalists. Nothing. Not a single trace. Doesn’t that seem… convenient?”
“And wasn’t the first contest supposed to be anonymous?” A third contestant scoffed. “How would a judge recognize a contestant unless there was foul play?”
Human nature, at its ugliest, always sought conspiracy over self-reflection.
It was easier to believe the system was rigged than to admit their own shortcomings.
Sophia Kensington knew exactly how to exploit that weakness—how to twist insecurities into weapons.
Now, Isabella Sinclair stood in the crossfire, branded by association, every move scrutinized with hostility.
Worse—she had no tangible proof to clear her name.
Olivia Montgomery, hearing the baseless accusations, hurled her wine glass to the floor. Crystal shattered like the fragile egos around them.
“Spreading slander without evidence?” Her voice was a whip-crack. “Let’s see how brave you are when my lawyers bury you in lawsuits.”
How dare Sophia still stand there, smirking? Olivia had dealt with arrogance before, but this level of audacity ignited something primal in her chest.
Beside her, Reginald Kingsley’s fists clenched, his face flushed with barely contained fury.
“I’m too old to protect undeserving talent,” he growled. “If someone has skill, I’d take them as my apprentice openly. Does anyone here truly doubt my integrity?”
The crowd stilled. It was rare to see the legendary perfumer so visibly enraged.
“I met this girl by chance,” he continued. “After the contest, I gave her a lower score than the others. Judges aren’t supposed to know contestants’ identities—but she sought me out, hungry to learn.”
Scarlet Snake had caught his attention not just for her skill, but for her relentless drive. She was the kind of rare talent that came once in a lifetime—someone who only needed the slightest guidance to master her craft.
And when he saw Isabella…
This year’s competition had been thrilling, but who could’ve predicted a single spark would ignite such chaos?
Reginald’s words resonated. A man of his stature wouldn’t risk his legacy for a lie—not when there were far simpler ways to mentor a rising star.
With both sides locked in stalemate, the audience wavered, torn between conflicting narratives.
Isabella gently placed a calming hand on Olivia’s arm before turning to Reginald with a respectful bow.
“I apologize, sir, that you were dragged into this because of me.”
Then she straightened, her gaze locking onto Sophia with an intensity that sent shivers through the room.
“Whether I’m Scarlet Snake or not doesn’t change one fact—your perfume isn’t a tribute. It’s a counterfeit. And I have proof.”
Sophia scoffed, though her voice wavered. “That’s impossible—”
But Isabella’s unwavering stare made her instinctively step back.
For the first time, Sophia saw her differently—no longer just a dismissed housewife, but something far more dangerous.
Someone who had stared death in the face.
That gaze, sharp as a blade, promised retribution.
Alexander Kingsley’s voice sliced through the tension, cold and commanding.
“Accusing the Kingsleys of deceit?” His dark eyes burned with icy fury. “Sophia, you’ve overstepped. Did you truly think we wouldn’t defend our name?”
The chilling authority in his voice, paired with Isabella’s piercing glare, left Sophia trembling.
That look—they shared it.
In that moment, Alexander and Isabella mirrored each other perfectly.
