The Billionaire’s Secret Quartet

The spotlight shifted, bathing the stage in a striking blue hue. Out came the second contestant's piece, modeled by a tall, statuesque woman draped in a daffodil-yellow evening gown. The dress, with its daring thigh-high slit in the front and a mermaid tail dragging gracefully behind, perfectly accentuated the model's figure.

Clad in the soft yellow of the gown, the model exuded an air of fresh elegance, reminiscent of the first breezes of spring.

But it was the jewelry that stole the show. Adorned with dazzling shades of lavender, the pieces shimmered with an ethereal light. Thalassa was visibly taken aback, her pulse racing with a mixture of shock and awe.

Instinctively, her grip tightened around Lysander's hand, which he had been holding all along. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the runway, from the jewelry that seemed to echo her own designs, leaving her rooted to the spot.

Lysander, feeling Thalassa's tension, also turned cold, a chill emanating from him as he too noticed the uncanny resemblance between the jewelry on display and Thalassa's creations.

Onstage, the model continued her walk, confident and poised, while Thalassa stood frozen, disbelief and anger swirling within her.

How could it be that the second contestant's piece looked exactly like her own design? Every detail, from the color palette to the style, was identical. And yet, she wasn't the one being credited.

The realization that her design had been showcased first, before she even had a chance, was suffocating.

It couldn't just be a coincidence that their designs were so similar. But how could this have happened?Content property of NôvelDra/ma.Org.

Panic-stricken, Thalassa turned to Lysander, seeking his counsel, unsure of what to do next.

Lysander squeezed her hand reassuringly, suggesting, "Let's not jump to conclusions. Maybe there's been a mix-up with the models and the designs. Let's wait and see."

His words were a balm, and

Thalassa clung to the hope that a simple error could explain the situation If it was just a matter of swapping the model's number with the right designer, then the issue could be resolved without much fuss.

As the second model exited the stage to thunderous applause, Thalassa's anxiety gave way to anticipation. It was almost her turn, and she was eager to see how her actual design would be presented.

The stage lights dimmed, replaced by a soft purple glow. The next model emerged, and Thalassa's heart stopped.

It was Susan.

How could it be Susan? Thalassa thought, her mind racing. Wasn't she supposed to be in custody, awaiting trial for her previous misdemeanors?

And yet, there she was, not just released but standing on the runway, representing Thalassa as her model.