CHAPTER 151: CHAPTER 151: CHOOSE ONE!

Vera didn’t pretend, the corners of her lips curved slightly. She stepped forward, raised a pale hand, her cool fingertips gently brushing across the underside of his warm throat.

Noah Grant’s throat tightened, his eyes darkened a bit, and he lowered his chin slightly in coordination.

Their breaths collided in the air.

Vera swiftly undid the knot, her fingers deftly weaving through the silk fabric, her movements skillful and focused.

A few seconds later, a perfect Windsor knot was formed.

Her fingertips pressed gently on his collar, smoothing out the fine wrinkles, "It’s done."

Noah’s Adam’s apple moved slightly, his gaze intense as he locked eyes with her close-up brows and eyes, his voice low, "Thank you for your help."

Vera withdrew her hand, stepped back half a step, stood still again, her mouth curling slightly with a hint of amusement in her eyes, "Off to the company?"

"Yes." Noah nodded.

The elevator door opened, and in came a man in a tailored suit and a woman with exquisite makeup. As they descended, more people entered, pushing them closer together, their bodies barely touching.

As they approached the basement level, Noah leaned down, his hot breath caressing her ear, "Dinner together tonight?"

Vera replied, "The gallery I invested in is opening tonight; I need to go check it out."

Noah’s deep eyes locked on her, without a moment’s hesitation, "Then I’ll come by for a look."

Vera smiled, "You’re welcome."

"..."

They exited the elevator.

Beside Vera’s black Mercedes stood a man with a straight posture, dressed in a dark uniform, wide shoulders and a straight back, his sharp eyes surveying the surroundings.

It was her driver and bodyguard, a retired soldier.

Noah’s gaze swept over his cold yet handsome face. Seeing that he was about to open the door for Vera, Noah reached there first and personally opened the door for her.

He silently shielded the top of the door frame with his hand and looked at her.

Vera said, "Thank you."

Noah pressed his lips into a faint smile, waved to her, and closed the car door. Watching the black Mercedes leave, he got into his own car.

...

In The National Ballet’s rehearsal hall, the morning light streamed through the tall floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a golden hue on the wooden floor.

At the routine morning meeting, Wendy Donovan, donned in a sleek black training outfit, stood with a poised posture, her voice clear and powerful.

"It’s been eight full years since our national team brought home the gold from the Lorraine International Ballet Competition!"

She scanned the youthful faces before her, "Eight years! In these eight years, we haven’t even managed to make it to the finals again! It’s not only a regret for our company but also a void in the honor of The National Ballet!"

"With the Lorraine Competition approaching, it represents the pinnacle of the international ballet scene and our best stage to prove ourselves!

Now, I’m calling on all capable dancers to actively apply and give their all in the selection and training process!

This time, our goal is singular!" she declared resolutely, "To fill the regret and bring back the gold!"

Subtle murmurs erupted below stage, young dancers’ eyes igniting with determination.

At that moment, a girl with a cold demeanor and an exceptional figure stepped out from the group. It was Vivian Langdon.

Her back was straight, a reserved yet confident smile on her face, as she decisively approached the application form in front, picked up a pen, and signed her name swiftly.

Her movements were fluid and confident, as if the gold was already in her grasp.

The surrounding girls cast envious and approving glances, whispering:

"There’s only one final slot; it’s definitely Vivian Langdon."

"We... are at most just foils."

"Yeah, she’s been in great form lately, plus she’s the lead!"

The atmosphere was vibrant as if Vivian Langdon was already the unanimously chosen representative.

Just then, the rehearsal room’s side door was gently pushed open.

Someone walked in.

She was dressed in the same simple training attire, her figure still carrying the slender and upright posture unique to ballet dancers, her steps steady and graceful.

All eyes shifted to her instantly.

It was Vera.

She didn’t look at anyone, proceeding directly to the registration table.

Under everyone’s astonished and bewildered gazes, she picked up another pen and calmly, confidently signed her name on the paper labeled "Lorraine International Ballet Competition Registration Form."

The air seemed to congeal.

After several seconds of silence, the rehearsal hall burst into excited chatter!

"Vera? Is she... also signing up?"

"Oh my! Am I seeing things? The Lorraine Competition?"

"She... just recovered from her foot injury and is making a stage comeback; can she handle such a top-tier competition..."

"Her age is also there; she surely can’t compare to Vivian Langdon."

Vera is now 28, while Vivian Langdon, freshly 24, had already become the lead.

The girls’ gazes flitted back and forth between Vera and Vivian Langdon.

Vivian Langdon looked at Vera, the corner of her lips lifted, "Vera, I attended your performance last night, it was flawless! Especially considering it was after your foot injury recovery, it’s truly remarkable! I genuinely admire your resilience and dedication to ballet!"

"At 28, still refusing to give up!"

Vera put down the pen, exchanged a look of mutual encouragement and admiration with Wendy Donovan, her lips curving into a composed arc, her gaze meeting Vivian Langdon’s calmly.

"Thank you for your support."

"Ballet isn’t based on age, Margot Fonteyn could still dance Giselle at 38." She tilted her head slightly, her gaze sweeping over the young dancers, her expression confident and determined, "As for whether I can make it? See you at the trials!"

The smile at the corners of Vivian Langdon’s lips slightly froze.

Everyone realized that Vera was fearless!

Wendy Donovan began clapping, her keen gaze sweeping over the audience, her voice loud and sharp:

"Vera said it well!"

"Your senior Vera was the gold medalist at the Lorraine International Ballet Competition eight years ago! Don’t dismiss her because of age..."

"She knows what true strength means better than you young ones who, banking on youth, overestimate yourselves and remain unaware of your limitations!"

Then, her tone became even more decisive:

"The trials are a battleground! Here, we recognize only ability, not experience, much less age! Whoever’s capable takes the stage! Show me your true skills!"

Vera gazed at her mentor with tacit understanding, clapping lightly, then headed to the bar for training.

Wendy Donovan continued to encourage everyone to apply.

...

In the evening, the sunset’s afterglow filtered through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, washing the entire rehearsal room in a warm golden hue.

At that moment, a slight commotion came from the side door of the rehearsal room.

"Auntie Morgan, why are you here in person?!" A girl’s clear, joyful voice resonated throughout the hall.

It was Vivian Langdon.

She quickly strode towards the door, her face filled with a sweet, affectionate smile.

And at the door, two gracefully poised women stood side by side.

The one on the left was Rosalind Morgan.

Vera, just coming out of the equipment room, happened to see this scene.

Ms. Morgan wore a finely tailored champagne-colored suit, a matching silk scarf around her neck, carrying a limited edition handbag, exuding elegance.

From a distance, she seemed to glance at her, then moved her gaze to the nude-pink-dressed Vivian Langdon, a gracious smile on her face.

"Your mom and I were having afternoon tea nearby, and we thought your rehearsal might be ending, so we came by to pick you up."