Kicked Out I Unlocked My Ultimate Boss Mode novel Chapter 20

**TITLE: Broken Doesn’t Mean End**
**By M. Kaushik**

**Chapter 20: Blancova**

As Helen stepped into the room, she felt a momentary pause wash over her, as if time itself had decided to linger. The vibrant color palette enveloped her senses, a delightful blend of soft pinks and pure whites that seemed to dance around her. The lace that adorned the walls and windows hung like delicate curtains of dreams, creating an atmosphere that was both whimsical and inviting. Even the bed, with its enchanting pink princess canopy, looked like something out of a fairy tale, beckoning her to dive into its plush embrace. All around her, an array of fluffy stuffed animals sat in cheerful disarray, each one a silent witness to the magic of the space.

For a fleeting moment, Helen stood there, utterly captivated. She could almost envision pink bubbles floating through the air, adding a sense of playfulness to the already enchanting room.

It was unmistakably a sanctuary crafted with immense love and meticulous attention to detail.

It was the epitome of every young girl’s fantasy.

“What’s wrong, Helen? You don’t like it?” Rebecca’s voice broke through Helen’s reverie, tinged with a hint of anxiety as she noticed her daughter’s silence. “I thought all girls liked this sort of thing…”

“I like it,” Helen replied softly, her voice barely above a whisper yet filled with sincerity.

Instantly, Rebecca’s face transformed, her eyes sparkling with delight. She grasped Helen’s hand with enthusiasm, pulling her into the room as if it were a treasure trove waiting to be explored. “Oh, I’m so glad you do! Come, come! Look over here—this is your walk-in closet! Your dad and I did a bit of research, and we gathered all these clothes and accessories that we thought would suit you perfectly. Take a peek and see what you think!”

With a flourish, she revealed a hidden door on one side of the bedroom, and as it swung open, Helen was greeted by a sight that made her heart race. The space inside resembled a high-end fashion boutique, lavish and inviting.

Rows upon rows of clothes, an array of shoes, elegant handbags, and sparkling jewelry filled the room, each item more breathtaking than the last.

Helen’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Blancova’s designs?”

“Helen, you like Blancova too?” Rebecca exclaimed, her excitement palpable. “Yes! These are all from Blancova’s latest season collections!”

Five years prior, the designer behind Blancova, Hillary Blanc, had triumphed in one of the most esteemed design competitions globally. She had turned down offers from prestigious luxury brands across the globe, choosing instead to return home and create her own fashion label—Blancova.

Each piece in the collection was personally crafted by Hillary, a testament to her artistry and vision.

With her world-class accolades and unique design philosophy, Hillary’s creations swiftly gained recognition for their exquisite elegance and impeccable fit.

From the moment Blancova opened its doors, it captivated the fashion industry, leaving a trail of admirers in its wake.

Despite having only a single designer and a slow release of new pieces, the allure of Blancova was undeniable. Socialites and affluent women clamored for these coveted items, willing to part with their fortunes to acquire the latest designs.

In just five short years, Blancova had ascended to the ranks of the world’s premier luxury brands.

The rarity of these pieces only heightened their desirability, and now, Helen found herself gazing at a wardrobe overflowing with Blancova treasures.

It was a clear reflection of the Walcotts’ wealth and influence.

Her eyes lingered on the familiar logo, and after a moment of contemplation, she nodded slowly, a smile creeping onto her lips. “Mm. I like it.”

Of course, she liked it.

After all, these were her own designs—her proudest creations.

The intimate moment shared between mother and daughter struck a chord within her, igniting a flame of jealousy that burned fiercely in her chest.

In that instant, it felt as if Helen had sensed her presence. She turned her head slightly, casting Wendy an indifferent glance before returning to her conversation with Rebecca.

That effortless grace, that quiet air of belonging—an unspoken confidence that suggested she was meant to have all of this—made Wendy feel as if Helen was flaunting her privilege right in front of her.

Rebecca lingered in Helen’s room for what felt like an eternity, her words flowing like a river as she chatted away, eager to bridge the gap of the years they had missed.

Yet, as memories of the day flooded back—how her daughter had gone to Veridia Hospital earlier, spending two grueling hours in surgery—Rebecca finally managed to temper her excitement, allowing Helen the rest she so deserved.

After all, her beloved daughter was finally home. There was no need to rush through this precious moment.

Once Rebecca finally stepped out, Helen rose from her seat, casually retrieving her duffle bag and placing it on the desk with a sense of ease.

She sank into the plush pink ergonomic chair, the fabric cradling her as she unzipped her bag and pulled out a sleek, lightweight laptop.

With a flick of her fingers, she powered it on.

Her long, slender fingers danced across the black keyboard, logging into the Null Zone’s internal network with practiced ease.

On the screen, a strangely shaped door began to open slowly, followed by a stream of bold red text that appeared to bleed across the screen, as if it were spilling forth from some hidden realm…