Chapter 119

Sophia's pupils contracted the moment she turned around.

What terrible luck.

Tiffany Roscente approached in stilettos, her dress swaying with aggressive confidence. The prized daughter of the Roscente family's third branch now glared at her with venomous eyes.

Two years ago when Sophia first arrived at the Roscente estate, Tiffany had made it her mission to compete with her at every turn. Despite being the same age and studying the same major, Sophia had entered graduate school a year earlier, graduated ahead of schedule, and left Tiffany's academic achievements in the dust.

Tiffany's red-lacquered nails tightened around her champagne flute, her knuckles turning white.

"Well, if it isn't my uncle's former secretary?" She emphasized the word "former" with deliberate malice. "Didn't expect to see you crashing architecture events after getting kicked out of Roscente Enterprises."

Sophia adjusted her silk sleeve cuff, the fabric shimmering like pearls under the lights. Her misty blue gown accentuated her snow-pale complexion, a stark contrast to Tiffany's garish canary-yellow dress.

"Tiffany." Sophia met her gaze, her tone as casual as discussing the weather. "Your study abroad trip gave you quite the healthy tan."

Tiffany's face instantly darkened. She hated any mention of inheriting her father's olive skin.

"Sophia!" she shrieked. "Who do you think you are to judge me? I could ruin your career in this industry with one word!"

The crystal chandeliers trembled.

Theodore Orlando strolled over with a champagne flute, his eyes narrowing behind his glasses. "Miss, keep your voice down." His polite tone dripped with sarcasm. "People might mistake a Roscente heiress for a fishwife."

Tiffany's chest heaved, strands of her carefully styled curls springing loose. "And who the hell are you?" she snarled. "Do you have any idea what happens to those who cross the Roscentes?"

Theodore took a leisurely sip. "Funny you should ask." His expression brightened with mock realization. "I just rejected a billion-dollar Roscente project last week. Does that count?"

Sophia nearly laughed. Her mentor had a gift for delivering lethal insults with impeccable grace.

Tiffany's lips trembled, her eyeliner smudging. Just as she prepared to retaliate, a crisp clink of glass echoed through the ballroom.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the host announced from the podium. "Please welcome our keynote speaker for tonight's Young Architects Competition—Professor Sophia Lowell from Seattle University's School of Architecture."

Spotlights suddenly illuminated Sophia.

Tiffany froze, her foundation unable to mask her ashen pallor.