Chapter 189 Sophia's Aura Overwhelms Everyone

Chapter 189 Sophia's Aura Overwhelms Everyone

Sophia's pov

Judy froze, her eyes going wide like they might pop out of her head.

She'd kept this buried. Only Kathy knew. So how could this assistant — whose face she could barely make out — know every single detail?

"Who... who are you?" Judy's face drained of color, her voice shaking.

"Get out." The words barely left my lips.

Judy stumbled back two steps and didn't stick around another second, bolting on her heels. The commotion drew glances from the designers nearby, all of them quietly wondering who this sharp, black-clad assistant actually was.

Once Judy was out of sight, she turned around and took out her humiliation on the junior designer beside her.

"What are you, dead? You just stood there watching me get embarrassed and couldn't say a single word!" Judy jabbed a finger at the girl's forehead, spitting as she screamed. "You can't even hold a drawing board right. Completely useless!"

The girl kept her head down, eyes red, apologizing over and over — which only made the insults worse.

Lisa watched it all, something uncomfortable settling in her chest.

She looked away and said quietly, "Miss Spencer, that girl... it's so sad. Judy has no real design ability. She gets by at this company by squeezing work out of interns. The moment someone steps out of line, it's either verbal abuse or she takes their name off the work entirely. So many talented designers have been ruined by her."

I glanced over briefly, then looked away. "In this industry, tears don't buy sympathy. If you don't want people walking over you, you climb to the top yourself."

Lisa went still for a moment, then nodded hard.

She knew it was true. If I hadn't pulled her out of that situation, she'd probably be no better off than that girl right now.

"All contestants and assistants, please make your way to the main competition hall. The event will begin shortly."

The PA system cut through the room right on cue.

"Let's go." I stood and tugged my cap lower.

Lisa slung her toolkit over her shoulder, took a breath, and fell in behind me as we headed toward the competitors' entrance.

The corridor leading to the main hall was carpeted and well-lit.

We'd just turned the corner when we walked straight into a small group coming the other way.

The woman at the front was in a Chanel haute couture set — latest collection, full face of makeup, though none of it could hide the exhaustion and bitterness underneath.

Vivian. The one who'd been globally blacklisted by FL just last night, her reputation in ruins.

She was already furious before she even saw me.

The Smith family had gutted themselves financially to cover the breach-of-contract penalties, and she'd become the joke of every social circle in New York.

She'd spent this morning practically begging Ryan to get her a sponsor's ticket, just to show up here and see if she could network her way back into the design world's good graces.

She hadn't expected to run into me.

"Well, look who it is — the high-and-mighty Miss Spencer from the Spencer Group subsidiary." Vivian stopped, her eyes landing on the "Assistant" badge pinned to my chest. Something twisted and pleased lit up her face. She laughed, sharp and cold. "What happened? A VP, reduced to fetching things for some nobody? Did the Spencer family finally kick you out to do odd jobs?"

Lisa flushed red and started to step forward, but I held out my arm to stop her.

I looked Vivian over slowly, and let a faint smile pull at the corner of my mouth.

"Nice outfit." My voice was calm, but each word landed clean. "Though I seem to recall FL issued a global ban just yesterday. Walking around in their clothes — are you trying to get the Smith family hit with another lawsuit on top of everything they already owe?"

The smile dropped off Vivian's face. Her color went from white to blotchy, like she'd just been slapped in front of everyone.

"Sophia, don't get too comfortable!" she snapped, jaw tight, her features twisting with something ugly. "You think you've won? I'm telling you — the moment I marry into the Lopez family, I'll still be Mrs. Lu. And you? Even with the Spencer name behind you, you'll never be on my level."

"Is that right." The temperature in my voice dropped.

I stepped forward, closing the space between us.

"Let's see if the Lopez family is willing to take in someone flagged for plagiarism and banned by the top luxury houses." I looked down at her, voice flat as ice. "Vivian. What's coming for you has barely started."

That last line hit. Vivian's face went pale, and the corners of her carefully painted mouth twitched before she could stop them. The panic in her eyes was hard to hide.

Then her gaze dropped to the badge on my chest.

She stared at it. "Designer's Assistant." Right there in black and white.

For a second she just stood there. Then, like someone who'd found a lifeline at the last moment, she let out a high, sharp laugh.

"So this is what the great Spencer heiress looks like up close — carrying someone's bags and running errands!" Vivian covered her mouth, shaking with laughter, the humiliation from a moment ago swept away by something mean and satisfied. She clicked forward on her heels, eyes full of mockery. "Sophia, what does going back to the Spencer family even get you? You can't wash out that small-time energy. A heiress, waiting on some low-level employee — you've embarrassed the whole Spencer name. You're obviously not the favorite. They kicked you out to do the grunt work, didn't they?"

The more she talked, the more convinced she seemed. She looked at me like she'd finally found the bruise worth pressing.

One of the socialites nearby shifted uncomfortably and pulled at Vivian's sleeve, dropping her voice. "Vivian, keep it down. She's the VP of a Spencer Group subsidiary. Did you miss the launch yesterday? She took down the entire Monze Group. She's not someone to mess with."

Vivian's laugh faltered for just a beat, something briefly awkward crossing her face.

But she'd never back down in front of me. Not in a million years.

She shook off her friend's hand and lifted her chin. "So what if she's a VP? She's still here playing assistant, fetching and carrying for someone else. You can't fix what's underneath. Haute couture doesn't make you the lead. She got lucky, that's all. Who does she think she is?"

I watched her perform, my expression unchanged, not a flicker of anything behind my eyes.