Tilda was obviously talented. Or else, there was no way she could have survived all those elimination rounds and actually made it to the national finals.

Preston had just flown back from a long trip in Sirango. He barely had time to unpack before he was dragged straight into this competition. And thanks to all the little whispers from Kyla and Daphne, he already had it set in his mind that Tilda was not a real artist, just some girl willing to trade her body for opportunities. He did not even bother giving Tilda’s finalist piece a second look.

To Preston, Kyla was always going to be number one. Her beauty, her sweetness, the way she acted so pure and fragile – it was everything. Yeah, he knew he was biased, but who cares? When you love someone, you’ll choose their side every time.

“Preston, Tilda’s painting looks incredible. I mean, with a piece like that, how can she not win first place?” Kyla whispered, forcing a shaky little smile, like she was seconds from crying. “She’s the real deal, after all. She’s got Mom and Dad’s talent. Me? I’m just the replacement. My paintings can’t even compare to hers…”

“Kyla, don’t say that.” Preston immediately cut her off. “Your work is the best in my eyes. No one could ever take your place.”

Then, his voice hardened. “And besides, Tilda? She’s the type who’d hook up with her professor just to steal a spot in the competition. For all we know, she didn’t even paint that piece herself – maybe she got someone else to do it and slapped her name on it. Deep down, Preston knew that sounded crazy. National competitions had way too many checks to pull something like that off. However, to keep Kyla from crying, he had no problem tossing shade at Tilda.

“Don’t worry, Kyla. Whatever shady tricks Tilda tries to pull, I’ll make sure she never takes that trophy.” Preston’s eyes burned with anger. “That championship belongs to you – and only you. She doesn’t deserve it, not now, not ever!”

The judging finally kicked off. One by one, the ten judges scribbled down their choices on slips of paper. All the slips went into a box, and some staff behind the stage started counting them up. It felt almost like waiting for a raffle to be drawn.

The results came out fast. Tilda’s painting, number 5, snagged 5 votes. Number 4 picked up 3 votes. Numbers 1 and 2 each got a single vote. Number 3? Zero – knocked out right away.

The whole room went silent. It was obvious to anyone with working eyes that Tilda’s work crushed the other four pieces. If things were fair, all ten votes should have landed on number 5 without hesitation. So how on earth did the votes split up like this?

“See that? Preston’s fingerprints are all over this.”

“I can’t believe it. I lined up five judges to vote fairly, and sure enough, they chose you honestly.”

“But the other five? Preston bribed them and told them to scatter their votes. Does he think people are that dumb?” Alfie was practically shaking with rage at Preston’s sloppy trick. The whole thing screamed rigged.

However, Preston had already started this, so there was no way he could take it back now. He did not expect Tilda’s piece to completely outshine the others. The judges he paid off must have been sweating bullets, worried that if this blew up, their reputations would be in pieces. Still, Preston had been careful enough not to let all 10 votes pile onto one entry. By splitting them up, he made it look less suspicious, like it could be chalked up to “different tastes” or “encouraging diversity.”

Yet, whispers rippled through the audience. Most people thought anyone who did not vote for number 5 had to be either clueless or corrupt.

Especially Simon. “This… this doesn’t make sense! There has to be cheating involved!” He looked like he was about to blow a gasket, ready to storm up and demand the non-Tilda voters explain themselves. How much cash did they take to pull something this shady?

“Professor Linscott, please calm down. We can’t dictate how people vote.”

Meanwhile, Tilda stayed cool as ever. Her face did not change. It was like none of this mattered. Or maybe… she already knew she would win anyway.

“Ugh, Tilda, I just can’t stand this unfairness! Who cheats in a competition like this? I’m furious! When this is over, I’m filing a complaint. I want names, and I want to know who dared to pull this off!” Simon was fuming nonstop.

Then, Alfie leaned closer to Tilda, lowering his voice so only she could hear, “See? Preston already made his move. But judging from how calm you are, you must’ve had a counterplan ready, right?”

Tilda was confused. She blinked at him, basically throwing him a giant question mark.

“Don’t tell me,” Alfie muttered, eyes narrowing, “you seriously didn’t plan anything ahead of time?”