“Karma’s a bitch, isn’t it? Especially when you rely on men. See you inside, little widow. Bye-bye.”
With a triumphant glint in her eyes, Linda sashayed through the entrance.
I pressed my lips together, pulling out my phone to call Myron and see if he could contact the organizers. My name was on the exhibition list, after all; surely they could make an exception for a missing invitation.
Just then, the security guards’ eyes lit up. Several of them moved to block the main passage while another guard hurried to open a closed-off gate, gesturing respectfully.
“Mr. Lancaster, Mr. Zachary, right this way, please.”
I turned and saw a group of men in sharp suits approaching. Towering over them all was Steven, his strikingly handsome face and pale skin making him stand out instantly. He looked refined and elegant, the tailored suit accentuating his well-built physique and giving him the dangerous allure of a villain in gentleman’s clothing. He was chatting and laughing easily with a middle-aged man, appearing far less cold than usual. Gordon followed a step behind, carrying a laptop bag.
I stared at Steven in shock. “What is he doing here?”
I thought he was still on a plane. I had no idea he was back in the country.
My assistant, York, tugged on my sleeve and whispered, “Zephyra, Mr. Lancaster is the sponsor of the Emerging Designer Competition.”
Damn it! Steven was the sponsor?
I gritted my teeth. How could Myron not tell me something so important? No wonder he’d been goading me to reveal my identity—he wanted Steven to see it. Thank God I hadn’t listened.
Steven didn’t even glance my way, and I had no intention of asking him for help. We were about to get a divorce, and the last thing I wanted was for him to know that I, a competitor, had managed to lose my invitation—even if it wasn’t my fault.

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