Chapter 7
944words
That house was never mine—it had always been Lauren's.
Better to leave voluntarily than be evicted later.
Alexander Hart contacted me only once, asking where I'd put one of his shirts, then never reached out again. My absence clearly meant nothing to him.
He'd never invested much attention in me anyway.
Lauren Summers held an official press conference announcing her retirement from entertainment to "focus on marriage and starting a family."
Her eagerness for marriage meant my own arrangement was officially on borrowed time.
I needed to prepare for life without Alexander Hart.
On submission day, I went to Eastern Dawn Group headquarters to deliver my design personally, only to be stopped at reception.
"I'm sorry, ma'am, but today's competition is limited to established design firms, and your company's name… well, I've never heard of it."
"Please check with Mr. Hart. I assure you I'm here for the competition."
"Are you Kevin's girlfriend?"
I turned to find myself face-to-face with Lauren Summers herself.
Of course she'd be here—Eastern Dawn was her boyfriend's company, after all.
"No, I was just Kevin's temporary dance partner."
The receptionist immediately brightened. "Lauren! You're early today! Another home-cooked lunch for Mr. Hart? He said he'd find you after the meeting."
"Yes, I have an appointment with Alex. Can we go in together?"
The receptionist immediately waved me through. "Thank you, Miss Summers," I said gratefully.
"Don't mention it. Everyone's quite taken with you, especially Grandma Hart. She's thrilled that Kevin's postponed his return abroad to pursue you. Are you entering the competition too? Don't worry—I'm one of the judges. I'll make sure to give you top marks."
"That's very kind, Miss Summers! But Kevin and I are just friends. You really don't need to show me any favoritism."
"I understand completely. Alex and I started the same way—friendship that developed into something more over time."
No, no, no, you don't understand at all. The one I've been "developing feelings" for is someone else entirely.
Alexander Hart emerged, presumably looking for Lauren, and faltered momentarily when he saw us together.
He quickly recovered and addressed us both: "We should head to the conference room. Miss Sanders, you'll need to upload your presentation beforehand. I'll show you where to do that."
Lauren smiled as we walked away. Once we were out of sight, Alexander suddenly pulled me into his private office.
He pressed me against the door, his hand sliding under my skirt.
"Mr. Hart! I'm here for the competition."
Alexander Hart silenced me with a hungry kiss. "Where did you find the nerve to disappear for a month? Don't worry, I've scheduled you last, so we have plenty of time."
"Alexander Hart! Your girlfriend Lauren Summers is waiting for you in the conference room!"
I bit his hand hard, and the fury in my eyes made him pause.
"Is that jealousy or anger? The receptionist was out of line, so I've already terminated her."
"You're the one who's out of line, Alexander Hart. You've been with Lauren Summers this entire time, and now you're marrying her. When exactly were you planning to divorce me?"
Alexander Hart released me, lit a cigarette, and said coldly: "The first clause of our agreement: only I can initiate divorce. You cannot."
I smiled bitterly. Kevin was right—this relationship was fundamentally unequal at every level.
"Fine! Since we're heading for divorce anyway, I'm done following your unfair rules. I'm going to win the design rights to The Alice—that's my divorce gift to myself. You're wrong, Mr. Hart! Divorce absolutely deserves celebration—I'll finally be free of a worthless benefactor."
Alexander Hart grabbed my face roughly. "Do you have any idea who you're talking to? What—you think because you've hooked my nephew, you're suddenly untouchable? You can't possibly be stupid enough to think that boy has more resources than I do."
Even now, he towered above me, contemptuous of my struggles.
"I'm entering the competition. Mr. Hart, I've already misjudged your character—don't make me question your professional integrity as well."
"Hmph, a mediocre designer from a no-name firm. Besides selling yourself, what exactly do you bring to the table?"
I yanked the door open to find Lauren Summers standing right outside.
She smiled warmly. "All set with your files? Everyone's waiting for you and Alex."
I nodded and hurried toward the conference room.
I had to admit, the other designers' presentations were exceptional. With each one, my confidence eroded further.
When my turn came, I took a steadying breath and began presenting The Alice's origin story and my design concepts.
"This yacht, even by today's standards, represents extraordinary luxury. It's inherently a symbol of wealth, which is precisely why I avoided excessive opulence in my interior design. This was a birthday gift from a father to his daughter—safety and protection are The Alice's most essential qualities."
As I delved deeper into my vision, competitors who had initially dismissed me began listening with growing interest.
They were captivated by the story of a father's boundless love for his daughter.
When I finished, the room erupted in applause—from everyone except Alexander Hart, who sat stone-faced.
Lauren Summers discreetly flashed me a thumbs-up. "You nailed it! Everyone gave you top marks except Alex—I couldn't see his score."
Despite our heated argument, I trusted Alexander's professionalism. Surely he wouldn't let personal feelings influence his judgment.
But I was wrong again. Perhaps I never knew him at all.
When the anonymous scores were revealed, I had received one failing grade. I placed second overall, missing the opportunity to design The Alice by the narrowest margin.
