The crowd, sensing the tension between Paige and Elliana, instinctively shifted aside, creating a clear path that drew the cameras directly to Elliana. Every lens, every eye, every twitching smartphone screen seemed trained on her now. Paige’s performance, meticulously choreographed, had placed Elliana right in the spotlight—but it was a trap, one designed to humiliate her in front of thousands of live viewers.
With a saccharine smile plastered across her face, Paige turned toward Luciano Scott, bowing slightly as though she were offering him a priceless gift. “Forgive the interruption, Mr. Scott,” she said, her voice sugary and precise, carefully measured for the broadcast. “But I was hoping Elliana could hear your thoughts firsthand. She should see what true art feels like.”
Luciano re
