His new stepsister His biggest threat (Claire and Elijah) novel Chapter 173

Lila, who was still engrossed in her own world, her brushes dancing across the canvas with a practiced grace.

Elijah’s eyes narrowed slightly, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “Lila? She’s a force, Claire. But even forces have weaknesses. It’s just a matter of finding the right angle.”

I nodded, though uncertainty fluttered in my chest. “What if we misjudge? What if her confidence is more than just a facade?”

“Then we adapt,” he replied, his tone steady. “Art is about evolution, just like strategy. You can’t be rigid; you have to flow with the moment.”

The teacher’s voice rose above the murmurs, calling us back to focus. She introduced the next exercise with a flourish, her enthusiasm palpable. “Today, we’ll be exploring the theme of contrast! I want you all to think about light and shadow, not just in your artwork but in your approach. How do you balance the two?”

As she spoke, I felt a surge of determination. This was more than just a class; it was a battlefield, and every stroke of paint was a move in a larger game. I glanced at Lila again. She was in her element, the light catching her hair and illuminating her features, making her look almost ethereal.

Jessica leaned in closer, her voice barely above a whisper. “You know, she thrives on this attention. It’s like she feeds off it.”

“Maybe,” I replied, my gaze unwavering. “But attention can be a double-edged sword. It can blind you just as easily as it can empower you.”

Elijah’s nod was almost imperceptible, but I could see the gears turning in his mind. “Exactly. And that’s where we come in. We’ll use her confidence against her.”

The thought sent a thrill through me. The idea of turning her own strength into a vulnerability was intoxicating. I could almost feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins as I set my palette with vibrant colors, ready to create something that would not only showcase my skill but also challenge her.

As I began to paint, I could sense the tension in the room shift. It was as if the air thickened with unspoken challenges and rivalries. I could hear the soft swish of brushes and the occasional murmur of my classmates, but my focus was singular. Each stroke was deliberate, each color chosen with intention.

Lila was still in her zone, but I could see her glancing at me from the corner of her eye. There was a flicker of something in her expression—was it concern? Or perhaps irritation? I couldn’t tell, but it fueled my resolve.

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