The more smug Hailey felt, the sweeter her smile became.
Faced with the flattery from those around her, she smiled humbly yet confidently.
"Hailey, I heard the necklace and earrings you're wearing are the signature pieces you designed for Aurevion, the luxury line owned by the Lancaster heiress, in your debut as chief designer?"
"This set… it's a true masterpiece! The design is stunning. I think this competition is a done deal. We're all just here for show."
"Yeah, once you become Ms. Rainsford's protégé, don't forget to give us a hand."
***
The designers were flattering her, but their words were also sincere.
The jewelry set Hailey was wearing… its design was simply beyond anything they could compare to.
A single glance was enough to be captivated, unable to look away.
Who could possibly compete with such a brilliant design?
A designer with a pointy chin chimed in, sucking up, "I heard Hailey was only recently found by the Wynn family. It just goes to show, she's a true heiress. Even on her own, she's this exceptional."
"Exactly! Not like that imposter who stole your identity for so long, enjoying all the resources of a wealthy family, yet she can't even hold a candle to you," another, heavier-set designer added. "People like that are no match for someone like you, Hailey, who has real talent."
Hailey reveled in this kind of flattery, which greatly satisfied her vanity.
She curled her lip, her fingers brushing over the necklace at her throat, and smiled humbly. "You all flatter me. Design, after all, comes down to talent and experience. You can't force it."
"Pfft—"
Suddenly, a derisive snort came from the side.
"Of course I'm laughing at you." Black Jack sipped her iced Coke, and the refreshing taste made her glamorous eyes curve into crescents. "A bunch of you, calling yourselves designers when you’re clearly better at ass-kissing. It's hilarious."
Several designers immediately got angry. "What nonsense are you talking?"
"What do you mean?"
"Who the hell are you? Show us your badge!"
Black Jack leaned lazily against the refreshment counter, the picture of effortless grace. "I'm not a designer."
"If you're not a designer, what are you doing here? Who let you in?"
"Don't you know this is the lounge for competing designers?"

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