Chapter 17
The staff prepared for the transition as the stage lights dimmed slightly.
Sylvia tilted her head toward Yesenia with a subtle smile. “Yesenia, do you know why Dad and our brothers came today?”
Yesenia didn’t bother looking at her. “Sylvia, stop flaunting how much the Mosleys favor you. I couldn’t care less.”
Sylvia’s lips curled higher at Yesenia’s indifference.
She didn’t believe for a second that Yesenia was truly unaffected.
No matter how calm she pretended to be. Yesenia must be seething with jealousy inside.
Sylvia blinked, feigning innocence. “Yesenia, what are you talking about? You mean Dad and our brothers made time to come to support
me?”
She pretended to be surprised. “Oh no, you’ve misunderstood. They aren’t here for me. It’s about GeekFlux Group.”
She lowered her voice conspiratorially. “With the company in crisis, Dad and our brothers have exhausted all options. Only GeekFlux Group can save us now. Whatever happens today, they can’t afford. mistakes. I know you’re stubborn, but you understand their position, don’t you?”
Pausing for effect, she added softly, “They’ve all regretted letting your leave that night. Once we overcome this, I’m sure they’ll welcome you back.”
Her words weren’t just empty boasting.
This was a warning.
She needed Yesenia to understand exactly how crucial today was for the Mosley Group and the Mosley family. If anything went wrong, the consequences would be unthinkable.
She wanted Yesenia to know clearly that no matter what happened, the Mosley family and the company came first.
If Yesenia ever wanted to return to the family and gain their attention, she would have to endure whatever might come.
When Sylvia finished speaking, Yesenia let out a nearly inaudible laugh.
“Oh really? I’m quite looking forward to it then.”
Sylvia seemed pleased with this response.
To her. Yesenia actually believed the Mosley family would welcome her back. How foolish.
“Now we’ll reveal each contestant’s work for this round,” announced
the host.
The large screen displayed the designers‘ initial sketches one by one, followed by models wearing the freshly constructed samples from backstage.
The first few designs were impressive, but to the professional judges, they lacked originality.
While technically flawless, none offered that breathtaking spark of
innovation.
Soon, it was Yesenia’s turn.
“Contestant Yesenia Mosley’s design: ‘Emberborn“.”
As the host announced it. Yesenia’s sketch appeared on the massive screen: a black evening gown.
A murmur swept through the venue as the model emerged wearing the
creation.
The dress featured shattered embroidery patterns, a corseted bodice, and expansive transparent black lace spanning from chest to arms. It accentuated the model’s curves while creating a stark visual contrast between the dark fabric and pale skin.
Most arresting was the translucent black organza veil, draped halfway across the model’s face. It swayed with each step, revealing features like some reborn enchantress emerging from shadows with destructive.
resolve.
The audience sat in stunned silence until the model completed her walk and returned to Yesenia’s side. Then the reactions erupted.
“That dress is breathtaking! So cool!”
“Yes, demonic yet chic. That black is mesmerizing! But does it fit the ‘Hope‘ theme? She named it ‘Emberborn“?”
“Don’t you get it? It’s a metaphor. ‘Emberborn‘ means new life sparking from ashes! This design is fire!”
“I agree. It’s the best so far. It actually took my breath away.”
“I’m voting for her!”
“Me too!”
12
“Wait, there are more contestants…”
“Nothing’s topping this.”
“Hey, don’t you think the designer herself would look better in this dress than the model? Yesenia is gorgeous. That small, elegant mole at the corner of her eye adds to her beauty, subtle yet captivating. She’s got that aloof elegance!”
The Mosleys‘ expressions shifted dramatically at the audience’s praise.
Braylon stayed silent, lost in thought.
Cayden mused. “If Yesenia wins, it’ll improve our odds…”
Vicente’s eyes flickered with admiration before he scoffed, “Yesenia’s amateur skills can’t compare to Sylvia’s. That dress is nothing special.”
Sylvia, who had just relaxed, tensed up again at the murmurs from the
crowd.
She had been relieved that Yesenia didn’t use the designs from the sketchbook. After all, the two submitted pieces and this one were from the first few pages. Yesenia probably didn’t even remember them.
When that dull black dress appeared, Sylvia nearly laughed out loud.
It was completely off–theme!
But then, to her disbelief, people actually thought Yesenia’s rag–like black dress looked good? Were they blind?
“Next up is contestant Sylvia Mosley’s work: “Galaxy“.
The initial sketch and the model appeared simultaneously before the audience.
A resplendent yellow gown, its waistline melting into an ombre gradient like the moment dusk bleeds into midnight blue, utterly magnificent.
Down in the crowd. Vicente eagerly raised his phone to capture his beloved sister’s shining moment.
But the second Sylvia’s draft appeared on screen, he froze.
He had studied art for two years, not professionally, but he knew the basics.
The linework in Sylvia’s sketch was identical to Yesenia’s.
His smile faded, his expression turning troubled.
“Wow, so pretty! This dress is gorgeous!”
“I love this color! It’s beautiful!”
“Amazing! A genius indeed!”
“Hey, have you noticed? Both Mosley designers did great. Is there some kind of design talent in that name?”
“Mosley’s a rare surname in Kraitburgh, right? There came two at once. Are they related?”
“Pfft, no way. Yesenia’s whole outfit probably costs less than one of Sylvia’s shoes. Same name doesn’t mean same wealth.”
“Stop being a snob! Honestly, Yesenia’s way prettier than that Mosley heiress. She’s beautiful and has real design talent. She’s gonna be rolling in cash once she makes it big!”
“Sure, and she’ll out–earn a century–old family empire? Don’t embarrass yourself.”
Sylvia lifted her chin, scanning the crowd below. Their awed expressions told her she’d already won.
She winked at Braylon and the others, basking in triumph until she noticed the judges whispering solemnly among themselves in the front
row.
Sylvia frowned. What was there to debate? Her “Galaxy” design was obviously better than Yesenia’s “Emberborn“.
Then the judges stood, taking the microphone from the host with grave
expressions.
“This callback upholds fairness and integrity. We aim to recruit outstanding designers into our studio and contribute to the fashion industry.
“However, we never expected to encounter a plagiarist. Someone stole another’s work in such a prestigious and formal competition.
Sylvia’s heart dropped. Her face paled as she instinctively stepped back until a hand clamped around her wrist.
