Chapter 220 The Final Begins
Two days later.
Rufus received an encrypted email in his private inbox.
It was a screenshot that Louis had obtained by pulling several strings and even bribing a data administrator inside the organizing committee.
The image was a bit blurry, taken directly from the backend system.
The contestant column read: Amelia (Echo).
And in the "Champion's Wish" input box, there was just one simple line:
[If I win the championship, I hope to have dinner with the most important investor of this competition in a private room on the top floor of Skyline Tower.]
Rufus stared at that line for a full three minutes.
Then he leaned back in his chair, a short, low laugh escaping from his throat.
The laugh carried three parts mockery and seven parts relief.
"And here I thought it would be some earth-shattering wish." Rufus tapped his finger on that line on the screen, the gloom in his eyes clearing considerably.
"That's it?"
Looks like I really did overestimate Stefan before.
If Cecilia wants to eat at Skyline Tower, wants to have dinner with the investor—meaning Stefan.
What's so hard about that?
Aren't Cecilia and Stefan living together right now? They're together every day—why would eating a meal need to be made into a "champion's wish"?
The only explanation is exactly what I suspected.
Stefan is a useless coward.
Skyline Tower is the Hensley family's most prestigious property, only serving heads of state and top-tier wealthy individuals. More importantly, it's Dione's favorite place to entertain guests, symbolizing the authority of the Hensley family's hostess.
Cecilia wants to publicly dine with Stefan at Skyline Tower. This is Cecilia's way of challenging Dione, trying to use public opinion to force the Hensley family to acknowledge her relationship with Stefan.
And Stefan can't handle the domineering Dione, so he can only go along with Cecilia in this charade.
"You two have quite the beautiful dream."
Rufus closed the image, a calculating gleam flashing in his eyes.
He looked at those words—"investor."
Cecilia's champion's wish didn't specifically name Stefan for the dinner.
In this circle, there's no such thing as the "only" investor. Although the Hensley Group has money and power, as long as the money is right, anyone can be "the most important."
Since Cecilia wants dinner, wants to go public, then I'll make it happen for her.
Except the person sitting in that seat will be me, Rufus.
I'll let Cecilia know that the dignity Stefan can't give her, I can. The obstacles Stefan can't overcome, I can solve.
Rufus picked up his phone and dialed a number.
"Stop that entertainment company acquisition project we were preparing." His tone was casual.
"Pull out all the funds. I want to add more sponsorship to the designer competition."
"How much? Enough that even if the Hensley family pulls out, I can take over the entire competition."
"Also, go reserve the top floor private room at Skyline Tower. Whatever it takes, I want it kept empty."
Since it's her wish.
What's wrong with me being the one to fulfill it?
The day of the finals.
Harmony City International Arts Center was brightly lit and buzzing with voices.
This wasn't just a design competition—it was more like a carnival of fame and fortune. Both sides of the red carpet were packed with media, camera flashes nearly turning night into day.
The backstage preparation area was even more tense, the air thick with pressure.
The design competition contestants gathered around their own workstations, making final equipment adjustments and tool checks. The glow from digital screens reflected on their focused, serious faces as each designer adjusted their state for this ultimate showdown.
Cecilia wore a simple black work jumpsuit, her hair pulled up high, revealing her long, elegant neck.
She ignored the surrounding noise, eyes closed, mentally rehearsing one last time the lines that would soon flow from her pen.
Compared to the anxiety around her, she seemed unusually calm, even somewhat detached.
"Ms. Martinez."
A sharp, somewhat smug voice came from behind.
Cecilia didn't need to turn around to know who it was.
Isadora.
Cecilia turned around, raising her eyebrows slightly in surprise.
By rights, although the last "plagiarism incident" wasn't fully classified as legal plagiarism, the thirty-point deduction and nationwide ridicule should have been enough to make any designer with self-respect withdraw in shame.
But Isadora hadn't.
Not only had she come, but she was dressed to the nines. She wore a haute couture red gown, makeup perfect, chin held even higher than usual, her eyes showing no trace of dejection but rather a strange excitement.
"Do you need something?" Cecilia asked flatly.
Isadora walked up to Cecilia, her gaze sweeping across Cecilia's face before finally landing on the somewhat plain-looking design draft in Cecilia's hands.
"You seem very confident, Amelia." Isadora crossed her arms, a cold smile on her lips. "Do you think that just because you're 'Echo,' just because Stefan has your back, the championship is already in your pocket?"
Cecilia closed her folder, her tone calm: "I don't think the championship belongs to anyone. The work will prove everything."
"The work?"
Isadora acted as if she'd heard a joke, stepping closer and lowering her voice to a volume only the two of them could hear: "Amelia, this circle has never been clean. Do you really think this competition is just about who draws better?"
A malicious gleam flashed in her eyes. "I heard about your 'champion's wish' too. You want to have dinner with Stefan? You'll have to win the championship first."
Cecilia narrowed her eyes slightly.
Something was off about Isadora. She was too confident, confident as if she held a trump card.
"Ms. Penrose, you seem very sure of yourself." Cecilia probed without showing her hand. "Looks like you've prepared quite the work this time?"
"Naturally." Isadora smoothed her skirt and turned to leave, but looked back to drop one more meaningful line: "When you go on stage later, I hope you can stay as calm as you are now. I hope you don't cry on stage and embarrass Mr. Hensley."
Cecilia watched her retreating figure, brows slightly furrowed.
For Isadora to provoke me at this moment, she must have come prepared.
But whatever she's planning, I don't care. Whatever trouble she creates, I'll solve it all.
The stage lights suddenly dimmed, and stirring music filled the air.
Host Quinton's booming voice echoed throughout the venue: "Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to the National Designer Competition Grand Finals!"
The curtain rose.
Who's the hunter, who's the prey, who wins, who loses—tonight we'll find out.