CHAPTER 151: CHAPTER 151 PRELIMINARY ROUND1

Serena’s POV

I returned to my hotel room, my mind still swirling with thoughts about what had just happened. Ethan Quinn’s shocked expression and his not-so-subtle way of getting close to me was definitely strange. What was his deal anyway?

After changing out of my formal dress, I finally checked my phone. Five missed calls from Ryan. Damn it. I’d set it to silent mode and completely missed them all.

My heart raced as I immediately called him back. "Ryan, I had my phone on silent, so I didn’t see your calls."

There was a brief silence on the other end before he let out an audible sigh of relief. "It’s fine. It’s getting late, you should get some rest."

"Tomorrow the preliminary round starts," I said, feeling a twinge of guilt. "I might not be able to check your messages right away, but please don’t worry. I’ll take good care of myself."

"Alright, I understand."

I reassured him a bit more before hanging up. After washing my face, I crawled into bed, but my mind kept replaying that strange interaction with Ethan Quinn.

Something about the way he looked at me felt... familiar somehow. Like he was seeing someone else when he looked at me.

---

The next morning, I sat patiently as the makeup artist worked on my face, prepping me for the design competition. The preliminary round was about to start, and the atmosphere backstage buzzed with nervous energy.

A staff member brought over the list of competitors for the judges to review beforehand.

"Good morning, Ms. Quinn."

I looked up to see Ethan Quinn standing there. Today he wore a crisp white suit that made him look both elegant and devastatingly handsome. He wasn’t just a sponsor; he also had a seat on the judges’ panel.

"Good morning," I replied politely before returning my attention to the list.

He smoothly took the seat next to mine, also reviewing the names. I noticed several familiar designers listed – all with established reputations across the country. There were hardly any newcomers, which indicated the competition would be fierce.

I put the list away, mentally preparing myself for the day ahead. The competition would be livestreamed, adding another layer of pressure. I silently hoped everything would go smoothly.

A few minutes later, we judges made our entrance together. The host was doing the opening speech on stage, and the audience applauded enthusiastically. I waved gracefully toward the crowd and cameras, maintaining my professional smile.

Ethan leaned slightly toward me, his voice low. "I heard this is being livestreamed. You might want to smile a bit more, Ms. Serena. It makes you appear more approachable on camera."

I blinked in surprise at his advice, then adjusted my expression. "Thank you for the reminder."

Our whispered exchange was subtle, but I wondered if the cameras caught it.

The preliminary round officially began, with designers taking the stage one after another to present their work and inspiration. As time passed, I provided my professional assessment of each piece. I didn’t sugarcoat my opinions, but I made sure to be constructive, offering pathways for improvement even in my criticisms.

After the first half concluded, we took a break. The moment the cameras stopped rolling, I felt my shoulders relax.

"Feeling tired after sitting for so long?" Ethan asked.

His performance as a judge during the first half had actually impressed me. He wasn’t just some rich company heir; he clearly knew his stuff. So when he initiated conversation, I didn’t brush him off.

"I’m managing," I said, unscrewing my water bottle and taking a sip to soothe my throat.

This competition brought back memories of when I was a contestant myself. The roles were reversed now, but I found the experience enlightening rather than exhausting.

"I’ve heard your name before," he said, looking genuinely interested, "but I never realized your understanding of design was so profound. Perhaps our companies could collaborate sometime."

The word "collaboration" immediately caught my attention. Business opportunities always did.

"Of course," I replied, perking up. "It would be an honor for Dreamland Studio to work with LUXE Jewelry."

"You’re too modest," he said with a smile.

I waved dismissively. "We’re probably the same age. Let’s drop the formalities—it feels a bit awkward otherwise." I paused, then added, "You can call me Serena."

"Gladly," Ethan replied smoothly.

We chatted a bit more about potential collaboration when a staff member hurried over.

"Ms. Quinn, someone’s here to see you."

"To see me?" I stood up, glancing toward the entrance. My heart nearly stopped when I spotted a familiar figure standing there.

Ryan? What the hell was he doing in San Francisco?

He was supposed to be at work in New York!

My body tensed as I stared at him in disbelief. Was something wrong? Had something happened ?

A thousand scenarios raced through my mind as I excused myself from Ethan and made my way toward my unexpected visitor.

"Ryan?" I called out, my voice a mixture of surprise and concern. "What are you doing here?"

The look on his face—equal parts relief and determination—told me everything.

He’d come all this way because he was worried about me.

My heart did a little flip despite myself. Even after everything that had happened between us, he still cared enough to fly across the country just to check on me.

"I needed to make sure you were okay," he said simply, his eyes scanning me from head to toe as if checking for injuries.

I felt a bubble of laughter rise in my throat. "You could’ve just called again," I said, trying to sound annoyed but failing miserably.

"Calling isn’t the same as seeing you in person."

I shook my head, torn between feeling touched and irritated by his overprotectiveness. This man had ignored me throughout our marriage, and now he couldn’t stand being away from me for a couple of days?

"Well, as you can see, I’m perfectly fine," I gestured to my pregnant belly. "We all are."

Our eyes met, and for a moment, I felt that old familiar pull.

Damn pregnancy hormones making me emotional. I cleared my throat and glanced back toward the judging area. "I need to get back. The second half is about to start."

"I’ll wait," Ryan said firmly. "We can talk after the competition."

I nodded, knowing there was no point arguing with him when he had that determined look in his eyes.