Addicted To The Genius Lady With A Thousand Faces

Chapter 1174:

Without another word, she turned on her heel and walked away, not sparing him another second of her time. To her, Ernst was nothing but a speck of dust in her rearview mirror.

Even talking to him felt like an insult to her own dignity.

She hadn’t come here for drama—she was here for her dream, and that had nothing to do with him.

Meanwhile, Emilee carried a different kind of weight—reviving Hinks Perfumes was a heavy burden on her shoulders. Her sights were set on the championship, and nothing less would do. Now that she and Ernst were rivals, whatever camaraderie they once shared had soured. Cooperation was a thing of the past.

Of course, the contest had no room for personal feuds. The event unfolded like clockwork, each round bringing the finalists closer to the ultimate prize. Then came the final stage—the moment of truth.

Just when Ernst was certain that his connection with the powerful female judge would guarantee his victory, an unexpected announcement sent a jolt through the crowd. The judge had abruptly withdrawn from the panel due to unforeseen circumstances.

Ernst felt the ground shift beneath him. For a moment, he stood there like a marionette whose strings had just been cut.

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Panic flared in his chest, but he swallowed it down and forced himself to stay composed.

He still had his skills, didn’t he? Even without that judge in his corner, he was confident he could secure a respectable ranking. Maybe he wouldn’t win it all, but surely, he would walk away with an award—and with it, doors to promising job offers. Now, all he could do was hold his breath and wait.

Emilee shared the same ambition—she was utterly convinced that the championship belonged to her and no one else.

As the moment of truth drew near, fate played a cruel joke by seating her and Ernst side by side. Unable to resist, they traded sharp words, each eager to see the other brought down a peg. But soon enough, they both fell silent, stewing in their own pride and anticipation. There was no need for further insults—the results would settle the score. One of them would rise, and the other would be left in the dust.

However, when the results were finally announced, the smug confidence drained from their faces. Shock hit them like a slap, leaving them utterly humiliated.

The championship went to none other than Araceli—the very contestant they had written off as irrelevant. The judges couldn’t stop praising her masterpiece, Summer’s Love, calling it a revelation in modern perfumery.

“This is impossible!” Ernst and Emilee blurted out in unison.

Their disbelief turned to outrage as they shot to their feet, ready to protest.

Ernst and Emilee were both floored, their expressions a mixture of disbelief and indignation. They blurted out their protests in unison, struggling to process the crushing reality—Araceli had won the championship, while they hadn’t even managed to place. Their results were abysmal, a complete disaster.

Their arrogance had been shattered, their lofty delusions crumbling like a house of cards.

“This is absurd!” Ernst bellowed, his voice laced with outrage. “Araceli isn’t even a professional perfumer! She has barely dipped her toes into the craft—there is no way she could have outperformed us.”

“Exactly!” Emilee jumped in, siding with Ernst as if they had never been rivals. “I’ve known Araceli for years—she is a hopeless klutz! She has never achieved anything remarkable in perfumery. This has to be a mistake.”

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