Chapter 20
"Contestant 67."
The moment my number was called, I rose slowly to my feet. My back was straight, my chin lifted, my aura burning with pride. I walked forward, my heels striking the polished floor with rhythm, each step deliberate, each sway of my hips graceful and elegant.
And just as I expected, the moment I emerged fully onto the stage, a wave of gasps swept through the hall.
Of course.
Everyone had been waiting for this. Their so-called villainess, the disgrace of the Vernon family, the scandalous Alpha who had been mocked and ridiculed since birth—auditioning for a spotlight on the grand stage. They had come not to applaud me but to laugh, to sneer, to drag my name further into the mud.
Let them.
"Laugh all you want," I whispered to myself, lips curving into the faintest smirk. "I'll keep surprising you—because I'm full of surprises."
I glided across the stage like a queen commanding her court, but before I could complete my showcase, a sharp, venom-laced voice cut through the hall.
"Isn't that the same dress Miss Dawn wore today?"
Gasps rippled louder. Instantly, every gaze swiveled toward Dawn. She sat at the far end, her lips pursed in amusement, clearly savoring the chaos she had prepared in advance.
The murmurs thickened like poison.
"Don't tell me the eldest Miss of the Vernon family has stooped so low… she's a copycat now?"
"You are indeed shameless!" another voice rang out, dripping with scorn.
I narrowed my eyes. Their tones were too sharp, too rehearsed. Paid pawns, every single one of them.
"If you start plagiarizing when you haven't even landed the job," one of Dawn's loyal dogs barked, "then it won't be a surprise when you begin stealing credits openly after you've passed!"
The crowd frowned in disapproval, heads nodding at the poisonous suggestion.
And then another insult, harsher, struck the air.
"Weren't you disowned by the Vernon family? And now you're sleeping with old geezers just to afford cheap clothes?"
Laughter rose, ugly and cruel. But I stood unmoved, my hands loose at my sides, my face a mask of calm pride.
Why should I panic when I knew the truth? If the judges were truly fair, they would question me—and I was ready.
"Miss Hazel Vernon," Carlos finally spoke, his tone even, his eyes sharp with curiosity. Unlike the other two judges, who were already hissing venom, Carlos and Lucy watched me closely, not with disgust but with intrigue. They noticed what the others overlooked: my poise, my composure, my refusal to break.
That was the definition of a judge.
"What do you have to say?" Carlos asked.
The hall buzzed, whispers layering over one another. I let them roar. I let them build the tension higher and higher until silence finally rippled through like a wave. Only then did I step forward, clear my throat, and meet Carlos's gaze.
"First of all," I said, my tone sharp but steady, "correction on your part, Mr. Carlos."
The audience erupted instantly. "Disrespectful!" they hissed.
Carlos lifted a hand, silencing them with a single gesture. "Correction?" he repeated, intrigued.
"Yes." I smiled faintly. "The name is Hazel Earnhardt. And it's not Miss—it's Mrs. I'm married."
Gasps exploded across the hall. Married? The villainess married? Impossible!
Whispers thickened, scandalous theories flying left and right. Many wouldn't believe me, but their disbelief was their problem. I owed them no explanation.
I turned sharply toward the so-called reporter who had insulted me. My eyes narrowed, my aura flaring. "Do you know I can sue you for framing and slandering me?" My voice rang cold, businesslike, a blade against their throat. "You think I'll cower because you spit poison? You don't feed me, you don't clothe me. Your words are air."
The color drained from the woman's face. Fear replaced her false bravado, and a smile ghosted over my lips before my gaze cut straight to Dawn—the one I had come for.
"Mr. Carlos," I said smoothly, "may I have permission to call Miss Dawn for clarification? I will not appreciate it if this misunderstanding isn't cleared."
He gave a nod, his curiosity heightening.
My eyes locked on Dawn. "Miss Dawn, will you do me the honor?"
She rose, her steps slow and deliberate, a provocative smile tugging at her painted lips. She thought she had the upper hand. How pathetic.
We stood together beneath the lights. I raised my hand. "Please, shine the light on the dresses. Even a fool can tell the real from the fake."
The spotlight shifted, bathing us in brilliance. Gasps filled the room again as the difference became clear—the quality of my dress, the flawlessness of the stitching, the richness of the fabric. Compared to mine, Dawn's looked cheap, ordinary, a mockery.
I leaned close to her ear, my words laced with poison only she could hear.
"Tell me, Dawn… were you so deprived of sleep that the bags under your eyes peek through even beneath layers of makeup?"
Her smile cracked.
"Or perhaps you're just so blind—blinded by arrogance, blinded by gloating—that you didn't even notice the flaws in your imitation gown before stepping out proudly?"
The hall stilled. Realization spread like wildfire. Murmurs swelled, but this time, they weren't aimed at me. All eyes turned to Dawn, their gazes sharp with judgment.
Her face paled as the large screens displayed both gowns. The striking difference was undeniable. Mine shone in flawless elegance. Hers sagged with flaws.
Her heart raced visibly, her lips quivered. For the first time, Dawn looked small—ordinary—standing beside me.
And that was the cruelest truth. An Alpha like me outshone her, reducing her Omega charm to dust.
I smirked, whispering again, "How does it feel, Dawn? How does it feel being stepped on? How does it feel being used as the ladder for my recognition?"
Her eyes burned red with fury.
"You planned this," she hissed under her breath. "You manipulated me into wearing this. You schemed!"
"Correction again," I murmured, my smile sharp. "What destroyed you wasn't me. It was your arrogance—your foolish belief that the world revolved around you."
Her body trembled. "I'll kill you," she spat, her voice so low only I could hear.
"You're welcome to try," I replied smoothly. Then, with a final bow to the judges, I turned, my gown flowing like water as I walked away, leaving Dawn trembling in rage, surrounded by reporters who now swarmed her like vultures.
Though I wore indifference on my face, her threat lingered deep in my chest.
If life had taught me anything, it was this: never underestimate anyone.