Reborn at Eighteen The Billionaire's Second Chance novel Chapter 252

Leaving. I managed, proud that my voice came out steady. The ceremony’s over. Sloane won. I didn’t place.”

I know. I saw.” There was something in his tone I couldn’t identify–not disappointment, but something else, something almost like suppressed excitement. Elara, listen to me carefully. You need to stay there. Don’t leave yet.”

‘Why?‘ The word came out sharper than I intended. ‘So you can show up now that it’s over? So you can offer consolation to the girl who wasn’t good

enough?

“That’s not He broke off, and I heard what sounded like a car door slamming. “Elara, please. Trust me. Just stay there for ten more minutes. I’m almost there, and I’m bringing someone who needs to meet you. Someone who changes everything.”

‘I don’t want to meet anyone,” I said, my voice cracking. I just want to go home.”

“Ten minutes,” he repeated, and now I could hear him moving, footsteps quick and purposeful. “Please, Elara. This matters. You matter. What happened in there today–the results they announced–it’s not the end of this story. It’s just the beginning.”

Before I could respond, I heard a commotion behind me in the exhibition hall. Voices rising in surprise, someone gasping, the sudden focused attention of a crowd that had been dispersing now riveted on something new.

I turned back toward the hall, phone still pressed to my ear, and saw Dr. Sterling hurrying toward the podium with an expression of barely contained shock. Behind her, security was escorting someone through the crowd–an elderly woman, elegantly dressed, leaning heavily on a cane but moving with unmistakable determination.

And in that moment, even before Julian said the words, I knew.

“Elara, his voice came through the phone, gentle now, almost reverent. “I’d like you to meet Elena Castellano’s little sister.”

The murmur started immediately. Whispers rippling through the audience like wind through grass.

On stage, the emcee froze mid–sentence. Dr. Sterling and the other judges exchanged confused glances. And Sloane–her triumphant smile went rigid, artificial. Her knuckles turned white around the trophy.

My heart was hammering so hard I thought everyone could hear it.

Julian’s gaze swept the crowd and found mine. He gave me the smallest nod, his eyes saying trust me.

He helped the old woman up the stage steps with infinite care, each movement precise despite what I knew had to be lingering pain from his injuries. When they reached the platform, Dr. Sterling stepped forward with the microphone, but the woman waved it away. Her voice carried perfectly well on its own.

“Ladies and gentlemen,‘ she began, her English accented but clear, my name is Giulia Rossi. I have come from Fiesole, near Florence, to tell you something I learned only five days ago. She paused. ‘Something that will change what you think you know about the art world.”

The room went quiet.

Giulia’s gaze moved across the stage–the judges, Sloane’s winning piece on display, and finally Sloane herself. When she spoke again, her voice was steel.

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Chapter 252

“In America, there is an artist who has stolen my sister’s name. Elena Castellano. This artist has presented my sister’s masterpiece, The Lonely Dinner, as her own work. Built a career on genius that was not hers. And now stands before you with a prize she has no right to hold.”

The explosion of noise was instant. Gasps, shouts, the frantic tapping of phones as people searched for information. The livestream chat erupted–I could see fragments scrolling past on the display screens. “What?!” “Sloane plagiarized?” “Is this real?”

Sloane had gone white. Her lips moved but no sound came out.

Ethan started to rise from his seat, but two security guards materialized beside him. He sank back down, his face flushed with rage.

And I-

My vision blurred. Tears came so fast I couldn’t stop them. My hand flew to my mouth, trying to hold back the sob building in my chest. My shoulders

shook.

Elena. My teacher. The woman who’d seen something in me when everyone else saw only the housekeeper’s daughter. She was finally going to get justice.

Giulia reached into her leather bag and pulled out a manila folder, worn at the edges. She handed it to Dr. Sterling with formal precision. Julian moved forward to help spread the contents across the judges table.

“These are my sister Elena Rossi’s documents,” Giulia said. “Her birth certificate from Florence, 1943. Her marriage certificate to Jack Castellano, 1976. Her enrollment records from the Accademia di Belle Arti di Firenze. She let that sink in. All proof that my sister was Elena Castellano. That she lived and

worked under that name.”

She unwrapped another item from tissue paper–an old sketchbook, its cover stained with age. She opened it carefully, turned to a specific page, and held it

up for the cameras.

An initial sketch for The Lonely Dinner. Notes in Italian in the margins. And a date in faded ink: 15 marzo 1995.

The screens throughout the hall switched to show close–ups. The audience could see everything now–the yellowed paper, the Italian signatures, the undeniable similarity between the sketch and the painting Sloane claimed to have created last year.

Dr. Sterling had gone very still. Her fingers traced the documents like they were evidence at a crime scene. When she looked up, her gaze moved from the papers to Giulia to Sloane.

The disappointment and anger on her face said everything.

The other judges crowded in, examining the documents themselves. Their skepticism was crumbling into horror.

The audience erupted. “So she’s been plagiarizing all along?” someone shouted. “What about her other work?” “What about this competition’s integrity?”

The livestream chat was pure chaos. Demands for investigation, calls for disqualification, thousands of messages flying past too fast to read.

I couldn’t move. Tears poured down my face. My whole body was shaking.

Relief. Grief. Rage. Hope.

All of it at once, too much to contain.

Then Julian was there. His hands steadied my shoulders, his voice low and urgent in my ear.

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1:19 pm P W

Chapter 252

“Elara. I’m sorry I was late. I’m sorry you had to face the results alone.” He pulled me closer. ‘But I’m here now. Listen to me.”

I couldn’t speak. Could only nod, gripping his forearms like he was the only solid thing in the world.

“The Kennedy family found out what we were planning,” he said quietly. “They tried everything to stop Giulia from coming–threats, bribes, even tried to have her detained at the Rome airport. I had to go myself. Had to escort her personally from Fiesole to Florence to Rome to New York, every step of the way.

to make sure they couldn’t get to her.”

He paused. His body was tense against mine.

“And they pressured the competition organizers. I got word two days ago they were planning to disqualify you before the finals even started. Some made–up rules violation. His voice dropped even lower. “I had to make sure Giulia got here in time to expose Sloane before they could eliminate you entirely. It was

the only way.”

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