The Billionaire's Secret Quartet

The spotlight shifted, bathing the stage in a striking blue hue. Out came the second contestant's piece, modeled by a tall, statuesque woman draped in a daffodil-yellow evening gown. The dress, with its daring thigh-high slit in the front and a mermaid tail dragging gracefully behind, perfectly accentuated the model's figure.

Clad in the soft yellow of the gown, the model exuded an air of fresh elegance, reminiscent of the first breezes of spring.

But it was the jewelry that stole the show. Adorned with dazzling shades of lavender, the pieces shimmered with an ethereal light. Thalassa was visibly taken aback, her pulse racing with a mixture of shock and

awe.

Instinctively, her grip tightened around Lysander's hand, which he had been holding all along. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the runway, from the jewelry that seemed to echo her own designs, leaving her rooted to the spot.

Lysander, feeling Thalassa's tension, also turned cold, a chill emanating from him as he too noticed the uncanny resemblance between the jewelry on display and Thalassa's creations.

walk, confident and poised, while Thalassa stood frozen, disbelief and anger

exactly like her own design? Every detail, from the color palette to the style, was identical. And yet, she wasn't the one being credited. The

coincidence that their designs were

his counsel, unsure of what to do

there's been a mix-up with the models and the designs. Let's

were a

clung to the hope that

could explain the situation If it was just a matter of swapping the model's number with the right designer, then

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to thunderous applause, Thalassa's anxiety gave way to anticipation. It was almost her turn, and she was eager to see how her actual design