Chapter 104

Chapter 104

Griffin didn't have time to stop her.

Holden's remarks today had strayed far from the lecture's intended topic. Griffin had been looking for an excuse to wrap things up early.

The purpose of this event was exchange—not a platform for Holden to evangelize his own philosophy.

Ending early would be better for everyone.

He hadn't expected Cordelia to challenge him outright.

He thought she was reckless. He admired her at the same time.

This was Cordelia.

After a moment's deliberation, Griffin chose not to intervene.

Holden was visibly caught off guard by the interruption.

All these people in the audience, silent as the grave—and it was some unknown junior who dared talk back to him.

Interesting.

But this girl happened to be his niece's rival. And from what he understood, her mentor was his rival, too.

He could appreciate her nerve. But they were destined to be on opposite sides.

"Young lady, do you realize what you just said?" A slow, enigmatic smile spread across Holden's face. "Do you know who you're talking to?"

The silence shattered. Murmurs rippled through the hall.

"Has she lost her mind? Holden's relationship with Vogue Vortex is already lukewarm at best. She's picking a fight in public—does she want to drag the whole company into this?"

"Sure, Cordelia's talented, but that doesn't give her the right to be arrogant. She won one gold award and suddenly thinks she can go toe-to-toe with Holden? She should check her credentials against Mr. Parker's."

"Mr. Parker was talking about exactly this type—designers with their heads in the clouds. Let's be real: what good is artistic pride? Making money is what matters. If she won't play to the market, why bother working at a company? She should just open her own studio."

Fragments of the whispers drifted into Cordelia's ears.

She understood the reality of market-driven design. But that couldn't be the centerpiece of every single lecture Holden gave.

Call her naive. Call her ignorant. She wouldn't waver.

Design made for profit and design made for art were not ranked above or below each other.

"You're a world-renowned designer, and I'm just a newcomer with no reputation. But does that mean, in your eyes, disagreeing with your philosophy disqualifies me from even having a conversation with you?"

The question caught Holden off guard. He was silent for a long moment.

He couldn't say she wasn't qualified—not without looking like the kind of man who dismissed younger talent out of hand.

He'd assumed Cordelia wanted to prove him wrong, to tear his philosophy apart. But from her response, that wasn't it at all.

"Of course you're qualified." Holden laughed suddenly, bracing both hands on the podium. "Since you want a discussion, let's have one—right here, in front of everyone. Go ahead. I'm listening."

The hall went quiet.

It was clear to everyone that Holden didn't look angry. If anything, he looked intrigued.

Griffin felt the tension in his chest loosen slightly.

Maybe this wasn't going to be the disaster he'd imagined.

---

In the back row, Liliana nudged the man in sunglasses beside her with her elbow.

"Aren't you worried? All these people watching, and she just picked a fight with Holden of all people. Can Cordelia handle this?"

Ellington sat behind his dark lenses, his expression unreadable. Only the slight press of his lips betrayed any emotion at all.

What it meant—tension, worry, anticipation—Liliana couldn't tell.

His emotions ran so deep beneath the surface. She genuinely had no idea what he was thinking.

How had Cordelia endured this for years?

One thing Liliana knew for certain, though: Ondine's feelings for Ellington were anything but genuine.

A woman like that—selfish, vicious, obsessed with money—she only cared about the Carnegie family's wealth and Ellington's face.

A fraud. Nothing more.

"I believe in her."

It was impossible to say he wasn't worried at all. But he needed to learn to trust her.

Cordelia was determined to keep her distance from him. That meant she didn't want to spend her life sheltered under his wing.

She needed to grow. And she didn't want his help to do it.

So why would he interfere?

As for Holden—Ondine's uncle—he might not be as unreasonable as Ondine and Pearl.

"First, I don't fully agree with your philosophy of purely market-driven, profit-oriented design. Second, this is supposed to be an exchange—not a platform for you to glorify your own ideology."

Cordelia fought to keep the tremor out of her voice. Behind the seat in front of her, her hands shook uncontrollably.

Actions have consequences.

Impulse was a dangerous thing. She should have stayed calm.

Challenging Holden openly at a lecture like this would become everyone's gossip by tomorrow.

She was just a newcomer. How presumptuous of her.

But she'd already spoken. She refused to back down now.

She braced herself for mockery. Instead, the man on stage simply stood there—smiling.

The distance between them was too far to read his expression clearly. All she could see was the smile.

Mocking? Condescending?

"Go on."

Holden sounded almost pleased. "I'd like to hear what other insights you have."

No one could read what Holden was truly thinking, and no one dared risk his displeasure now.

A renowned designer's words carried enormous weight in the industry. Right or wrong, most people simply agreed with whatever he said.

It had been years since anyone younger had dared to disagree with Holden to his face.

These young designers had been ground down by the commercial machine, their minds consumed with how to monetize everything. And he'd become just as jaded—even his mentorship now started with trends and revenue.

Art? Could art pay the bills?

But someone swimming against the current to talk to him about art? That was refreshing.

Cordelia drew a deep breath.

She didn't want to drag out a debate that had no clear right or wrong.

"I believe you shouldn't use a lecture to promote your personal philosophy while dismissing the value of art. In my view, that's irresponsible influence."

"There are still people in this world willing to stay true to themselves—people who refuse to pander, refuse to chase profit—who devote themselves entirely to their craft. And plenty of them have left legacies that will outlast us all."

"That's all I have to say."

Cordelia didn't sit down right away. Her heart hammered harder than ever.

What had she just done?

She'd done something reckless again.