She paused briefly, then dialed Elizabeth’s number.
Elizabeth’s voice held a hint of amusement. “Did you finish the task I assigned you?”
The casual tone grated on Devyn’s nerves. She bit her lip, determination firm. “No, I’m calling to say I’m backing out. Even without copying Stella’s idea, I know I can outshine her on my own.”
““Qutshine her?” Elizabeth laughed incredulously. “And how exactly do you plan to do that? Miss Padilla, are you getting ahead of yourself?”
Elizabeth’s words sliced through Devyn’s confidence like a sharp blade. “You think you can top Stella with your skills? That’s just a fantasy,” she scoffed.
Devyn’s face drained of color as Elizabeth’s words hit her. She found herself at a loss for words.
Without a hint of compassion, Elizabeth pressed on. “I’ll ignore this call like it never happened. Your excuses mean nothing to me. Results are all that matter. You have three days. Fail, and your brothers suffer. It’s your call.”
Devyn struggled to respond, but the call abruptly ended, leaving her in stunned silence.
As her strength waned, her legs buckled beneath her, and she sank to the ground, her phone slipping from her grasp, motionless.
The bustling street offered no sanctuary amidst the sea of people and traffic.
Her fists clenched, her body quivering uncontrollably, tears brimming in her eyes.
Why was everyone pressuring her?
Slater hurried to her side, his expression flickering with concern as he witnessed the scene unfolding before him.
In Prosper Bay, something else was happening.
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As Matthew stepped into the house, Stella promptly emerged to greet him, Casually flinging his suit jacket onto the sofa, Matthew instinctively encircled her with his arm. “Quick to show up, huh? Did you miss me already?” he teased.
Stella jabbed his chest playfully and quipped, “Not even a Little.
Just need those final tweaks on the design draft.”
Talk of design ignited Stella’s excitement. “Just one tricky step left, and then we can submit it!” she exclaimed.
Observing her fervor, Matthew simply clasped her left hand and spoke sincerely. “Even in haste, you got to tend to that bandage first.
Your hand’s still on the mend. You need a breather.”
Matthew’s concern warmed Stella’s heart, prompting her to coyly respond, “Alright, then help me out, will you?”
Matthew planted a gentle ki*s on her forehead before guiding her to the sofa, and then went to fetch the medical kit.
Sitting beside Stella, he carefully unwrapped the gauze and applied the ointment with practiced precision.
Stella was taken aback. She vividly recalled how he fumbled nervously while changing the bandage just a few days prior.