Chapter 125
These past few days, Ariana thought she had Beatrice figured out. She'd assumed Beatrice was just some creative robot who couldn't hold her own in conversation. She never expected her to be so quick-witted and sharp-tongued!
This workload would be impossible to complete even working through the night. The staff around them pretended to be busy with their own tasks, but their ears perked up as their shoulders shook with suppressed laughter. Everyone could see that Ariana had finally met her match.
"Is something wrong, Ms. Keller?" Beatrice asked with feigned innocence. "Having difficulties? It's fine if you don't think you can handle it. I can tell Mr. Stuart right now that his special assistant's capabilities need reassessment, since even a basic market report is beyond—"
"There's no problem!" Ariana cut her off through gritted teeth. "I'll get right on it!" She could no longer maintain her elegant demeanor as she hurried away on her high heels, nearly tripping in her haste.
Watching Ariana's furious retreat, Susan finally burst out laughing. "Ms. Jennings, that was amazing!"
Beatrice's smile finally faded, a flicker of exhaustion crossing her eyes. She didn't enjoy confrontation—she just refused to be pushed around anymore.
---
The next day's media salon was even livelier than anticipated. Beatrice wore a deep sea-blue silk gown that hugged her slender waist. The neckline was perfectly cut to reveal her delicate collarbones, with no accessories to distract from her elegant swan-like neck.
"Darling, you're walking pheromones today. You're going to enchant everyone who sees you," Leo quipped, following her with a schedule in hand but not a serious word from his mouth.
Beatrice was making final safety checks with the construction crew. She pointed to the giant billboard suspended above them. "The wind is coming from this direction. Double-check all attachment points. I don't want any accidents."
"Don't worry, Ms. Jennings. We're using the highest grade support cables—even a typhoon couldn't blow it down!" the foreman promised, thumping his chest confidently.
Beatrice nodded without further comment. As she turned to head backstage, a commotion erupted at the entrance, camera flashes lighting up the space.
Frederick had arrived. He was always the center of attention. Men approached to shake his hand and exchange pleasantries, while women's gazes followed him, some openly, others more discreetly. He handled it all with practiced ease, yet maintained an unmistakable aura that commanded respect.
His eyes scanned the venue before finally landing on Beatrice. Across fifty feet of space, their gazes locked. He didn't approach her, only nodded in acknowledgment before being pulled into conversation with a business partner.
During the media interview segment, Beatrice stood by the display as the lead designer, explaining her concept to several seasoned industry journalists.
"...So it's not a simple circle. The snake's mouth doesn't fully close around its tail—it hovers just above the tail feathers. This 'space' represents infinite possibilities. And the new bud at the end of the tail feathers embodies my understanding of 'rebirth.' The end isn't about consumption, but about nurturing a new beginning."
A gray-haired fashion magazine editor nodded approvingly. "Very thoughtful. Many designers chase visual impact, but few take the time to create a complete conceptual narrative."
Another jewelry critic agreed, "I can already predict this collection will be this year's sensation."
This validation sent a wave of pure, long-forgotten joy through Beatrice. Just then, a metallic scraping sound came from overhead.
"Look out!" someone shouted.
Everyone instinctively looked up to see one of the support cables on the giant billboard had snapped! The massive metal panel tilted like an out-of-control guillotine, swaying precariously...
Time seemed to slow down. The crowd erupted in terrified screams, scattering in all directions. Beatrice's heart skipped a beat as she instinctively stepped back, one hand protectively covering her abdomen.
Frederick heard the commotion and froze for a split second before breaking into a run. He barely had time to think—his eyes fixed only on that familiar deep sea-blue silhouette standing directly beneath the falling billboard.
"Beatrice!" Frederick's voice turned hoarse with sheer terror. He shoved aside anyone in his path and lunged forward.
In the final second before the billboard crashed down, he tackled the blue-clad figure, shielding them beneath his body. The massive metal panel grazed his back as it slammed into the ground with a deafening crash. The mirrored floor shattered into spider-web cracks, sending fragments flying.
Beatrice stood frozen, watching the heart-stopping scene unfold. Her pupils contracted almost imperceptibly. In that moment, her heart felt seized by an invisible hand, unable to beat.
Through the dust and chaos, Frederick pushed himself up, his heart pounding violently against his ribs. He couldn't even bring himself to look at the person beneath him, paralyzed by the terror of what might have happened.
"Are you hurt? Are you okay?" he asked urgently, his voice still trembling.
He looked down and met tear-filled eyes wide with terror and relief. Every expression on Frederick's face instantly froze.
"Why is it you?"
It was Ariana.
He had saved the wrong person. Ariana was wearing an identical deep sea-blue silk gown. Even their makeup looked strikingly similar, except Ariana's eyeliner winged up more dramatically, giving her a cunning look that lacked Beatrice's cool detachment.
Frederick ignored the searing pain of the wound across his back as he frantically searched for Beatrice. Until their eyes met.
Beatrice stood just a short distance away, watching him, something inside her suddenly snapping. Camera flashes exploded around them like lightning. The reporters, like sharks scenting blood, trained their lenses on this dramatic tableau.
Tycoon CEO heroically saves personal assistant, risking his life—wasn't that headline far juicier than any salon event?
The venue descended into chaos.
"Oh my God! Mr. Stuart is injured!"
"Blood! His back is bleeding!"
The crowd's alarmed cries finally broke their strange eye contact. Leo practically tumbled to Beatrice's side to check if she was safe. "Darling! Are you okay? Were you scared?"
Beatrice shook her head, her gaze still fixed on Frederick. Beads of cold sweat formed at his temples—he was clearly in significant pain. He ignored Ariana's tearful cries, feeling only relief. Beatrice was safe. That was all that mattered.
Soon, Frederick's bodyguards pushed through the crowd, forcibly clearing a path. "Mr. Stuart, we need to get you to the hospital."
Ariana followed close behind him, wiping away tears and refusing to leave his side.
"Ms. Jennings! Ms. Jennings, are you alright?" Susan shook Beatrice's arm vigorously.
Beatrice blinked her dry eyes, her vision coming back into focus. Before her lay the chaotic scene, while around her guests whispered in shocked aftermath.
"That Ms. Keller is bad luck! Too stupid to get out of the way and now Mr. Stuart is injured because of her!"
"But Mr. Stuart clearly cares for her—he didn't hesitate for a second. That's not normal for just a boss and employee..."
"His wife was right there too. How awkward."
Those whispers reached Beatrice's ears, each one like a needle pricking her heart.