Chapter 117 The Competition is About to Begin
"Say that again."
Rufus's voice had completely lost its usual composure. Each syllable was forced out from deep in his throat, carrying a bloody edge.
Stefan showed a rather helpless smile, turned his head, and said to Cecilia beside him, "Looks like our presence has dried up Mr. Chapman's design inspiration a bit."
Cecilia's cool gaze swept over Rufus's tense profile. "Or maybe he's always been like this," she said flatly.
Rufus clenched his fists secretly, shifting his gaze from Stefan to Cecilia's indifferent face.
His chest heaved violently, his eyes rolling with towering rage and thick jealousy.
He suddenly let out a short, cold laugh, heavy with mockery.
"You really know how to pick them."
"From Charles, to this Stefan now—what, you have a thing for rich men?"
His words were cruel and low, practically accusing her outright of being fickle, only latching onto powerful and wealthy men.
The eyes of some nearby guests immediately took on a knowing look.
Cecilia's expression didn't change at all, her eyes calm as an unfathomably deep well.
"I really don't like people with bad tempers."
She spoke lightly. "Emotionally unstable, losing control at the drop of a hat—it's ugly."
Rufus's face instantly turned from red to ashen.
"You!"
He suddenly raised his hand, as if to grab her, but halfway there, he froze it in mid-air.
Isadora immediately grasped Rufus's suspended hand, wrapping her soft fingertips around his cold fingers, coaxing gently, "Rufus, calm down. Getting angry over irrelevant people isn't worth it. Let's go rest over there for a bit, okay?"
The commotion here finally drew the venue's security.
"Sir, ma'am, is there anything we can help with?" Two uniformed security guards approached, their expressions alert, eyes scanning between the group.
"It's fine."
Stefan reached up to adjust his tie, smiling with perfect refinement.
"Mr. Chapman and I were just having a friendly discussion about art and design. We had some differences of opinion, got a bit loud."
The guards looked at Rufus, face pale and body tense, then at Stefan, all warmth and control, unable to read the situation. They could only stand there awkwardly.
Stefan had no intention of staying any longer.
Without acknowledging anyone else, he led Cecilia away, walking calmly toward the deeper part of the exhibition hall.
They left Rufus and his group frozen in place.
Passing through the crowd, Cecilia followed Stefan into the main exhibition area.
Here were displayed representative works by many renowned designers—from jewelry to architectural models, each showcasing stunning creativity.
Stefan noticed her interest was piqued and didn't disturb her, turning instead to exchange pleasantries with acquaintances.
Cecilia continued forward.
She stopped in front of a series of necklace designs.
The piece used shattered obsidian to form the shape of an ancient tree, yet inside was wrapped a brilliantly glowing sapphire.
The stark visual contrast brought stunning vitality.
This design had a striking similarity to the "rebirth" theme she'd been developing for Whimsy Gallery.
In an instant, countless inspirations exploded in Cecilia's mind. She even felt an impulse to immediately find paper and pen to capture those fleeting brilliant ideas.
Cecilia was completely absorbed until she felt some discomfort, then turned to head for the rest area.
Passing the restroom, she went inside.
At the sink, Cecilia had just turned on the faucet when a figure appeared in the mirror.
Isadora was standing behind her, somehow.
"Ms. Martinez."
Isadora wore an impeccable smile, her tone even carrying a hint of familiarity.
"I'm really sorry about earlier. That's just Rufus's temper—don't take it to heart."
Cecilia turned off the water, looking at her through the mirror without speaking.
"You know, I really admire your courage." Isadora stepped forward, standing shoulder to shoulder with her, taking out a compact from her purse to touch up her makeup.
"This circle is so complicated. For people like us who make a living through design, it's better to have more friends than enemies. How about we exchange contact information?"
As she spoke, Isadora pulled out her phone, looking genuinely interested in connecting.
Cecilia dried her hands and turned to face her directly.
"No need." Cecilia's refusal was clean and direct.
Isadora's smile froze for a moment.
"Why? Does Ms. Martinez think I'm not worthy of being your friend?" Her voice took on a cold edge.
"Ms. Penrose misunderstands." Cecilia's tone remained calm. "I just don't think we can be friends."
Isadora finally dropped her fake smile.
She stepped closer, lowering her voice, her pretty face slightly twisted with jealousy.
"Don't think I don't know what you're up to! You want to use Stefan to provoke Rufus, to make him pay attention to you again, right?"
"That face of yours really is your biggest weapon."
Her gaze swept back and forth across Cecilia's face, full of undisguised malice.
"But Amelia, let me tell you—a shadow is always just a shadow. It can never become the real person."
"Playing these games will only make Rufus hate you more."
"Rufus can only be mine."
Cecilia looked at her triumphant expression and suddenly found it somewhat amusing.
"Ms. Penrose, aren't you confused about something?" She stepped forward, extremely close to Isadora.
"You think I still want him?"
Cecilia's gaze was icy, tinged with pity.
"A piece of trash I threw away, and you're picking it up like treasure."
"Then I wish you success."
"Make sure you keep a close eye on him."
With that, she didn't spare Isadora another glance, turning and walking straight out of the restroom.
Isadora stood there alone, trembling with rage.
When Cecilia returned to the venue, the atmosphere was even more lively than before.
She noticed that on the central stage, the host was holding a microphone, excitedly announcing something.
"To make tonight's gala even more exciting, our organizers have decided to add an interactive segment!"
The host raised his voice, successfully capturing everyone's attention.
"We will provide all the designers present with a platform for improvised creation!"
As soon as he said this, the whole venue erupted.
"The theme is just one word—'Light'!"
"You'll have one hour to use any materials available here and submit a design sketch. Finally, our panel of judges will select the best work and announce the winner on the spot!"
As his words fell, the venue completely exploded.
This was basically public execution! A great opportunity to boost one's reputation!
Countless gazes instantly focused.
They cut through the crowd, landing precisely on two focal points.
One was the genius designer the Chapman Group had brought back with a hefty sum—Isadora.
The other was the unknown yet incredibly arrogant "newcomer" from the Hensley Group's newly established studio—Amelia.