“Enter,” Eleanor Vance responded, her voice slightly hoarse.

Isabella Scott stepped into the room.

She found Eleanor sitting upright, her gaze distant and unfocused.

“We’re relocating today,” Isabella informed her.

“Relocating? To where?” Eleanor asked, her brow furrowing in confusion.

“To the new residence. It’s significantly more spacious and comfortable,” Isabella explained gently.

“I am not going,” Eleanor declared, her tone firm and unyielding. “I have resided here for decades. This place holds my entire life. I refuse to leave.”

Isabella understood her grandmother’s stubborn nature. Once Eleanor made a decision, reversing it was nearly impossible. She had spent a lifetime within these faculty housing walls. Every corner was filled with memories. Uprooting her was an immense request. While frustrated, Isabella also felt a pang of sympathy. For the elderly, familiarity often provided the greatest comfort. She took a calming breath, softening her approach. “Alright. I understand.” Eleanor offered no further response.

Isabella exited the room and immediately placed another call to Emily Watson. “My grandmother has decided to remain here for the time being. Please stay with her for the next few days and ensure she is cared for. Contact me immediately if anything arises.”

“Understood, Isabella. You have my word, I will provide excellent care,” Emily assured her.

Ending the call, Isabella felt a tangible weight lift from her shoulders.

Meanwhile, within the design department of Blackwood Enterprises, a tense silence prevailed, punctuated only by the methodical clacking of keyboards. Ethan Blackwood emerged from the elevator. His impeccably tailored charcoal suit accentuated his powerful frame. His commanding presence instantly hushed the entire office. His sharp eyes scanned the room, but the person he sought was conspicuously absent.

His brows drew together slightly. “Where is Isabella?” he asked, his tone crisp and direct.

Vanessa Croft had been idly pretending to work, her thoughts wandering far from her desk. Ethan’s sudden appearance sent a thrill through her. This was an unforeseen opportunity! Sophia Reed paled in comparison to a man of Ethan’s stature. Winning his favor could change everything.

She immediately abandoned her facade. Her heels clicked decisively as she swayed toward him. She had deliberately chosen a form-fitting blush-pink dress today, aiming for a delicate yet alluring appearance. She lowered her gaze subtly, highlighting her elegant neckline. “Mr. Blackwood,” she said, her voice syrupy and feigning shyness. “Isabella requested the day off.”

Ethan’s eyes flicked toward her briefly, his expression unreadable. “A day off? For what reason?”

Vanessa’s pulse quickened, but she maintained a soft, concerned expression. “She… mentioned something about moving.” Ethan’s frown deepened.

Without another word, he turned sharply on his heel and strode out of the office. Vanessa was left standing alone, her practiced smile stiffening on her face. She watched his retreating figure, frustration simmering within her. She had hoped to seize the moment and make an impression, yet he had dismissed her without a second glance.

Vanessa clenched her jaw, her lips pressing into a thin line of irritation. With an annoyed huff, she spun around and stormed back to her desk, snatching up her phone.

The device buzzed in her hand at that exact moment.

“What?” she answered, her tone laced with impatience.

“Vanessa! I have incredible news for you!” an excited voice chirped from the other end.

“What could possibly be so incredible? I’m not in the mood,” she snapped.

“Serena! The legendary former lead designer of Apex Design Collective! She’s confirmed to attend Design Visionaries! She will personally serve as the chief judge!”

Vanessa froze for a moment. A wicked, calculating grin slowly spread across her face. Serena? The enigmatic genius who had taken the global fashion world by storm? The only designer in recent years whose work had surpassed every other name in the industry? That name was the stuff of legend. No public images of her existed, adding to her mystique. The world only knew her creations were masterpieces. Her true identity remained one of fashion's best-kept secrets.