Chapter 139 Isadora's Misdeeds
As host Quinton's impassioned voice faded, the contestants returned to their white semi-open spaces one by one, each carrying vastly different emotions.
Cecilia returned to Studio 108, calmly sitting down at her drawing desk. The red light on the camera in the corner continued its persistent blinking.
She didn't check how public opinion had reversed online, nor did she dwell on her brief moment of brilliance on stage.
To her, she had simply stated the facts.
The real battle was far from over.
Fifteen minutes slipped by quietly amid countless people's anxious waiting.
The screen in the studio finally lit up, displaying an advancement list with red background and gold text, slowly scrolling into view.
Cecilia's eyes swept across it.
[Amelia, Number 108, Advanced]
She turned off the screen, leaned back in her chair, and prepared to pack up and leave.
Her phone vibrated at that moment.
The caller ID showed Stefan.
Cecilia answered, and before she could speak, a low laugh tinged with pleasure came through.
"Excellent performance, Ms. Martinez."
"I only did what I needed to do." Cecilia's tone was flat.
"No, it was even more spectacular than I expected." Stefan's voice carried a unique magnetism through the phone line.
He commented, "I thought you'd choose to clarify, use technical means to prove the photo was misleading. That would have been effective, but too mild, too boring."
"Clarify?" Cecilia let out a light scoff. "People who believe don't need clarification, and people who don't won't listen to it. Why would I waste time trying to please a bunch of irrelevant people?"
"Well said." Stefan's smile deepened. "That's exactly why I said your handling surprised me. You directly crushed all doubts with absolute skill, then used legal weapons to pin the mastermind in place. No mercy, no chance for your opponent to catch their breath."
"I like how you handle problems—direct, efficient, and ruthless enough."
Stefan paused, his tone becoming more playful. "So, as a return favor, shouldn't you let me see what expression that clown hiding in the shadows has right now?"
"I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you, Mr. Hensley." Cecilia said coolly. "I have no interest in admiring a loser's ugly state."
"Really? I find watching opponents struggle in their death throes the most entertaining part of victory." Stefan chuckled, then changed the subject. "Alright, let's not talk about these killjoys. To celebrate your first victory, and also to celebrate those jumping clowns getting slapped in the face by their own stupidity—I've made a restaurant reservation. May I invite you to dinner?"
"Sure, send me the address."
After hanging up, Cecilia packed her art supplies simply, grabbed her personal belongings, and turned to leave the studio.
A figure suddenly blocked her path, cutting off Cecilia's way.
It was Isadora.
At this moment, she no longer wore that elegant and proper mask. Her carefully made-up face was twisted with extreme jealousy, her beautiful eyes filled with unwillingness and frantic questioning.
"Who exactly are you?" Isadora's voice was shrill, each word squeezed through clenched teeth. "That piece of yours—whose work did you plagiarize? I've looked into you. You never studied design. How could you possibly create something like that!"
Isadora couldn't accept that her proud credentials and talent had been completely shattered by Amelia, whom she'd looked down on from start to finish, in such a crushing manner.
Cecilia found her near-hysterical state laughable.
She moved to step around her, but Isadora stubbornly blocked her again.
"Move." Cecilia finally spoke, her voice without a trace of emotion.
"Don't think you're leaving until you explain!"
Isadora's breathing was rapid, her chest heaving violently. "Did you know the competition topic beforehand? Who told you? Stefan? Or Rufus?"
"Why should I explain anything to you?" Cecilia stopped, finally looking at her directly.
In Cecilia's clear eyes was a kind of all-seeing pity and indifference.
"Ms. Penrose, the way you look right now is really ugly."
"You!" Isadora's pupils contracted sharply.
"Did you think posting some false comments online and hiring people to make malicious remarks could destroy someone?" Cecilia's tone was calm, but every word cut deep. "Using such underhanded tactics only proves you've already lost completely in terms of professional ability."
"I didn't!" Isadora shrieked in denial, but her panicked expression had already betrayed her.
"You didn't? Then should I have the lawyer's letter delivered directly to you right now?" A cold smile curved Cecilia's lips. "Or would you prefer the police come talk to you about the elements of online defamation?"
Isadora's face instantly turned pale.
"Ms. Penrose, is it really that hard to admit someone is better than you?"
Cecilia continued, "Is this all your proud credentials taught you? Wrapping old concepts in commercial aesthetics, slapping on an environmental label, and thinking it's innovation?"
"Your 'Melting Glacier'—let's be honest, it's just a pretty commercial dress. It's beautiful, it could sell for a good price, but it has no soul. Because behind it, there's no real thinking from you."
"Some things depend on talent and depth of thought, not something you can understand just by studying commercial design abroad for a few years."
Cecilia's words transformed into the sharpest knives, precisely stabbing into Isadora's most prideful heart.
Isadora's breath caught sharply, her face instantly flushing red.
All her pride, her cherished overseas credentials, had been dismissed as worthless in the other's casual words.
The intense humiliation and anger burned away Isadora's last shred of rationality.
Her gaze locked onto Cecilia's face, and a crazy thought suddenly burst into her mind.
Isadora suddenly remembered photos she'd seen—Amelia's appearance was seventy to eighty percent similar to Rufus's deceased wife, Cecilia!
"I know now!" Isadora suddenly shrieked, her voice carrying a kind of enlightened madness. "You had plastic surgery! You deliberately made yourself look like Cecilia to get close to Rufus, didn't you?"
Isadora was convinced she'd uncovered the truth.
Amelia wasn't some genius designer at all.
She was just someone who'd carefully plotted to gain benefits by imitating the deceased Cecilia—a more vicious replacement!
This realization pushed Isadora's jealousy and hatred to its peak.
She wanted to tear apart this fake face!
"What are you? Nothing but a fake imitating the dead Cecilia!"
Isadora roared, her body reacting before her mind could think.
She suddenly raised her hand and, using all her strength, swung viciously at Cecilia's face—the face that drove her mad with jealousy!