Chapter 67

Leyla had just wrapped up her discussion with Davin about the competition's process and took the chance to probe him about the other participants.

When she learned they were mostly nobodies, her confidence soared. She bid Davin a brief farewell and headed for the restroom to touch up her makeup.

Davin had mentioned that Tristan himself would be presenting the award to the first place once the results were in.

That alone was enough to stir her ambition. Sure,Tristan's obvious favoritism toward Eliana annoyed her,but it wasn't enough to keep her from wanting to leave a good impression on him.

Everyone acted out of self-interest in the end, and gaining Tristan's favor sat rightat the top of her list.

And if she did catch his eye? Well,then Hector would serve as a convenient backup.

Hector's family had never liked her, and if she married him,it would mean endless family strife. But Tristan's family? That was a different story. Elbert supposedly didn't have long left, and Joanne had passed away years ago.

If Leyla married Tristan, she would be the sole mistress of the household-no mother-in-law,no meddling relatives.

Of course, these were only thoughts she kept to herself.

Whether it would work out was uncertain, but trying cost nothing.

Because of this little fantasy, she lingered in the restroom, fussing with her appearance, and completely missed the scene where Eliana revealed her identity as Riley.

She also had no clue that Davin, the man she admired,was actually Eliana's student.

When Leyla finally stepped out, Hector still hadn't arrived. She wandered around, searching for him,but found neither Hector nor Davin. So she decided to look for Frieda instead.

One lap around the venue and still nothing. Her frown deepened. Where on earth had Frieda gone?

Pulling her phone from her bag, she dialed Frieda's number. The call was rejected outright.

She shrugged it off at first, assuming Frieda was busy nearby.

But after a few minutes without spotting her, she tried again.

This time, Frieda picked up.

Before Leyla could speak, Frieda's voice came through the phone, sharp and brimming with anger. "Why are you calling me again? I don't want to talk to you anymore!"

Frieda was still seething. If Leyla hadn't hidden the fact that Eliana was actually Riley,she wouldn't have been humiliated today. She wouldn't have offended Tristan. And her family's cooperation with the Pearson Group wouldn't be hanging by a thread.

She was so angry that she had declined the first call.

But after Leyla's second attempt, the ringing became too much, and Frieda answered-though her frustration bled through every word.

Leyla blinked at the outburst, tamping down her irritation. "Frieda, what's wrong?"

Frieda laughed coldly. "You have the nerve to ask me that?" Leyla's patience thinned. Without her, Frieda wouldn't have even set foot in the exhibition. How could she be so rude to her now?

But she swallowed the retort and asked instead,"What happened? Who got you so worked up?

"Who else? Eliana Murray!" Frieda snapped.

"Eliana?" Leyla's brows drew together.

"I want to know," Frieda continued through clenched teeth, "why you hid her exceptional painting talent from me."

For a moment, Leyla stared blankly at the wall, then gave a short laugh. "Frieda, you must be mistak<en.She's just a country bumpkin. Exceptional talent in painting? Don't make me laugh."

Then something occurred to her, and her eyes narrowed."Wait-did she tell you that?"

"Of course." Frieda snapped,her tone icy.

"You've been fooled," Leyla said with confidence."She lies through her teeth. Not a word she says is true.How could you believe her?"

Frieda froze at the other end. Did that mean Leyla truly didn't know Eliana was the legendary Riley? With that in mind, she tentatively asked, "Why do you think Eliana is lying?"

"Because this isn't her first time," Leyla said. "Just last week,she claimed she was some renowned doctor."

She still believed that Miguel's recovery had been nothing but blind luck-Eliana stumbling into the right place at the right time.

Hearing no response, Leyla assumed Frieda was realizing the truth and was simply too angry to speak.So she pressed on. "From now on, don't believe a word Eliana says. Just trust me."

Frieda almost laughed. To her, Leyla's arrogance was both ridiculous and pathetic.

She opened her mouth to tell her the truth but stopped. If Leyla hadn't misled her, she wouldn't have been thrown out in disgrace today.

No-let her find out the hard way.

"Whether I believe her or not doesn't matter anymore,"Frieda said coolly. "I have something urgent to do,so I gotta go. Take care."

She hung up without another word.

They had never been real friends. Frieda's humiliation had been bitter, and she wasn't about to save Leyla from the same fate. She wanted Leyla to be embarrassed as well. The thought alone eased her temper.

Leyla stared at the screen, her irritation bubbling over.How could Frieda be so ungrateful? She had brought her to the exhibition, and this was the thanks she got?Was it because she wasn't a Murray anymore?

If she'd known Frieda was this type of person, she'd have brought someone else. She regretted her choice now. There had been no shortage of people begging her for an invitation earlier today. Too late now.

Shoving the phone back in her bag, Leyla opened her photo album.

Inside were dozens of Carl's paintings-images she'd quietly snapped.

Today's competition allowed free expression,the only rule being that it had to be in oil paint.

Perfect. Carl excelled at oil painting. All Leyla needed to do was memorize one of his works and reproduce it.

She began scrolling, carefully selecting her choice.

Meanwhile, Tristan was leading Eliana toward the conference hall.

He couldn't help glancing at her profile-flawless,every angle as captivating as the last.

At first, it had been her resemblance to the girl who once helped him that caught his attention.

But after seeing her heal with skill and fight with precision, his interest had shifted into something deeper.

Now, knowing she was Riley-his favorite artist in Esaton-his admiration had only grown.

She was like a treasure chest, always revealing something new each time he thought he'd figured her out.

The problem was, her attitude toward him had cooled since the Fist Guild incident.

He didn't know what had caused the shift, but he wasn't angry. If anything, it made him more determined to change her mind.

He had never gone out of his way to please anyone before. As the head of the Pearson Group, he certainly didn't need to. Winning someone over was uncharted territory for him.

So,he relied on instinct. "I really like you... I mean, your paintings," Tristan finally managed,after much thought.