Chapter 97
Soon, the day of the jewelry design competition awards ceremony arrived.
In the Douglas Estate living room, Dahlia wore a champagne-colored floor-length gown. The hem was studded with fine beads that glittered like scattered starlight with every step.
Her hair was styled into an elegant updo, revealing her slender neck. A diamond necklace adorned her throat, matching earrings dangled from her ears, and a limited-edition diamond-studded bracelet circled her wrist.
She turned in front of the mirror, lips curving with satisfaction, then trotted over to Valencia and looped her arm through hers, voice sweet as honey. "Mommy, you absolutely have to come today. This is the first time I'm winning such an important award—I'll be so nervous if you're not there."
Valencia laughed and patted the back of her hand. "Of course we're going. I've been ready for ages. Your father even pushed all his afternoon meetings just to watch you accept your award."
Wesley descended the stairs in a charcoal gray suit, hair combed meticulously. He nodded. "Let's go. Don't be late."
Dahlia's eyes lit up, her smile impossible to suppress.
Her gaze shifted to the other side of the living room. Lucinda sat on the sofa scrolling through her phone, dressed in a simple white knit sweater, hair casually tied back—a stark contrast to Dahlia's formal splendor.
A flicker of smugness passed through Dahlia's eyes, quickly suppressed.
She walked over, her tone sweet and obedient. "Lucinda, why don't you come too? Today's going to be a big event—something you've probably never seen before. It'd be good for you to see it."
Her words sounded like an invitation, but inwardly, she was brimming with satisfaction.
She wanted Lucinda to see what real prestige looked like.
No matter how much Lucinda stirred things up, she was just throwing her weight around in that shabby little company.
At a true high-society gathering? What was she?
Valencia also walked over, smiling as she tugged on Lucinda's hand. "Cindy, come with us. You work so hard every day—you deserve a break. Dahlia's receiving an award. Let's all go and support her as a family."
Wesley nodded as well. "Come along. It's rare for the whole family to go out together."
Lucinda lifted her head, her gaze moving from the phone screen to sweep across the three faces before her.
She nodded. "Alright."
Dahlia's smile deepened, satisfaction nearly spilling from her eyes.
She turned and went upstairs, returned to her room, closed the door, pulled out her phone, opened her chat with Hayden, and typed out a message.
[Mr. Lancaster, today is my jewelry design competition awards ceremony. I won first place. Do you have time to come watch? I saved you the best seat.]
She sent it and stared at the screen, waiting.
Read.
But no reply.
Dahlia bit her lip and typed again: [Mr. Lancaster, if you're busy, that's fine. I know your health isn't good—taking care of yourself is the most important thing.]
Still read. Still no reply.
She took a deep breath, tossed her phone onto the bed, checked her hair in the mirror, and curved her lips into a confident smile once more.
It's fine.
If Hayden won't watch, plenty of others will.
Today, she would be the most dazzling one in the room.
Meanwhile, outside Starlight City's International Convention Center, reporters had already set up their cameras along both sides of the red carpet.
A white Bentley glided up and stopped at the end of the carpet.
The door opened. Allegra stepped out first.
She wore a crimson trailing gown, the hem pooling on the ground. Her hair was curled into voluminous waves, her makeup bold and heavy.
Preston and Gemma followed behind her—one in a suit, the other dripping in jewels. The three stood together like a carefully staged promotional photo.
Allegra lifted her chin, a reserved smile on her lips, and walked down the red carpet on Preston's arm with measured grace.
Flashbulbs popped. A few reporters raised their cameras and edged forward.
"It's the Wipere family! The Wipere family's reunited daughter!"
"I heard she won second place in the jewelry design competition. Pretty impressive."
Allegra heard the chatter, and her smile widened.
She straightened her back, her steps unhurried, savoring the feeling of all those lenses focused on her.
Just then, a low engine rumble sounded from behind.
A black Rolls-Royce glided in.
Its body was sleek and streamlined, the Spirit of Ecstasy hood ornament gleaming in the sunlight.
Every eye turned.
The door opened. Wesley stepped out first, dressed in a charcoal gray suit, radiating calm authority.
He turned and extended his hand. Valencia took it and descended from the car, wearing an elegant dark green gown.
Then came Dahlia.
Her champagne gown shimmered softly in the sunlight. Each step she took seemed to float on air. Her poise was entirely different from Allegra's deliberately staged elegance—it was a natural, bone-deep grace and nobility.
The flashbulbs instantly swiveled.
"It's the Douglas family! The Douglas family is here!"
"That's the Douglas family's daughter, right? I heard she won first place!"
"She's so elegant—truly the daughter of the wealthiest family…"
Reporters swarmed, all lenses now trained on the Douglas family trio.
Allegra stood in the middle of the red carpet, utterly alone. Not a single photographer remained.
Her smile froze. Her fingers clenched her skirt, knuckles white.
Gemma's expression was equally ugly. She tugged Preston's sleeve and hissed, "Let's go. Inside."
The three of them scurried into the venue, not daring to look back.
Dahlia walked on Valencia's arm, a poised smile on her lips, basking in the pursuit of the cameras.
Her gaze swept over Allegra's retreating figure, disdain flickering in her eyes.
Some time later, Lucinda's taxi pulled up at the side entrance of the venue.
She'd just rushed over from the research institute. A core piece of equipment had malfunctioned, and no one else could fix it. She'd gone herself to adjust the parameters, which delayed her—so she hadn't come with the Douglas family.
Now she wore a simple black sheath dress with a cream trench coat over it, flat shoes, and carried a small handbag.
Low-key. Minimalist. She could easily blend into a crowd unnoticed.
She got out of the car and headed for the side entrance.
The side entrance was quiet—no reporters, no flashbulbs. Just two security guards standing at attention.
She was almost at the door when rapid footsteps sounded behind her.
"Master Amy! Master Amy!"
Lucinda stopped and turned.
Ollie jogged over, his tie askew, a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead.
He ran up to her, bent slightly at the waist, his voice trembling with barely restrained excitement. "Master Amy, you really came! I thought you wouldn't…"
He straightened, gazing at Lucinda with shining eyes, as if beholding a priceless treasure. "Your presence today is such a blessing for the contestants. To have their work seen by you—what an honor! Master Amy, please, come with me. I've reserved a front-row seat for you—best view in the house—"
"No need." Lucinda cut him off, her tone flat. "I'm just here to take a look. I already have a seat."
Ollie froze, mouth opening, about to say more—but when he met those cool, clear eyes, all his words died in his throat.
He nodded repeatedly, stepped back, and cleared the way. "Of course, of course. Whatever you say, Master Amy. Please, go right in."
He stood at the door, watching Lucinda's figure disappear into the shadows of the side entrance, unable to suppress the smile spreading across his face.
On the other side, Allegra had filmed the entire exchange on her phone.