Reborn at Eighteen The Billionaire's Second Chance novel Chapter 189

Reborn at Eighteen: The Billionaire’s Second

Chapter 189

“Who what?” he interrupted sharply. “Someone who doesn’t deserve

it? Is that what you were going to say?”

I hesitated. “Someone who might not be what she seems.”

Ethan took a step toward me. I backed up until my shoulders hit the

wall.

“Careful, Miss Vance,” he said softly. “You’re already on thin ice with

your second–place finish. You really want to start making accusations

you can’t prove?”

“I’m not accusing anyone of anything,” I said. “I’m just saying that

maybe–maybe if you looked at her work with the same critical eye

you turn on everyone else, you might see things that don’t quite add

up.”

“Her work is flawless.” But there was something in his eyes now, a flicker of doubt quickly suppressed. “I’ve studied every piece she’s ever created. I know her style, her techniques, her-”

“Do you?” I challenged. “Or do you know what you want to see?”

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For a moment, just a moment, I saw him waver. Then his face

hardened again.

“This conversation is over,” he said flatly. “But let me make something

very clear. That article was just the beginning. I have a series planned

-analysis pieces for the semifinals, the finals, expert commentary on

each stage of the competition. And I will be watching you very, very

closely, Miss Vance. Every brushstroke, every color choice, every

technical decision. And I will write about all of it with complete

objectivity.”

“Objectivity.” I couldn’t keep the skepticism out of my voice.

“Objectivity,” he repeated. “I will note where your technique falls

short. I will question whether your high scores reflect genuine artistic

merit or judges‘ sympathy for your difficulties. I will compare your

work to established standards and point out every place where you

fail to meet them. And I will do it all without a single provable lie or

actionable statement.”

My stomach dropped. He was describing how he’d destroy me, piece

by piece, all while staying just inside the bounds of acceptable

commentary.

“You’re going to ruin me,” I said quietly. “Just because I suggested you

might be in love with someone who doesn’t love you back.”

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Chapter 189

“No.” His smile was cold. “I’m going to hold you to the same standards

I hold every artist. If that ruins you, it’s because you weren’t good

enough to begin with.”

We stared at each other. He would do this. He would use his platform,

his influence, his carefully built reputation to make sure I never had a

chance.

“I’m sorry,” I said finally, and meant it. “I’m sorry that she can’t see

what you’re willing to sacrifice for her. I’m sorry that you’ve decided

that’s enough.”

Something flickered across his face–pain, maybe. But it was gone in

an instant.

“Save your pity, Miss Vance. You’re going to need it for yourself.” He

adjusted his glasses one final time. “Enjoy your moment in the

spotlight. It won’t last long.”

He turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing in the empty corridor. I watched him go, my whole body trembling.

I pulled out my phone and quickly typed an email to Dr. Sterling

about the sabotage and the media conflicts of interest. My fingers

shook as I hit send.

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Chapter 189

The reply came back within fifteen minutes.

“Already arranging for the tech team to pull complete security

footage. We’ll investigate thoroughly. As for The New York Art Review

article, we’ll be issuing an official response.”

I hit send, then leaned back against the wall and closed my eyes. My

phone buzzed–a text from Raven.

“Are you okay? Where are you? People are being HORRIBLE.”

I typed back: “I’m fine. Needed some air. Heading back now.”

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