Chapter 147

Steven Cruz hunched slightly as he followed Alexander Grant, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

"Mr. Grant, this is Daisy Zade. She recently won the Golden Phoenix Award for Best Newcomer," Steven introduced, gesturing to the female celebrity swinging her feet on the garden swing.

Alexander's gaze swept over the feet adorned with red nail polish. "Her toes are too short."

Steven swallowed hard and silently crossed Daisy's name off the list.

The auditions that followed felt like a brutal elimination round.

"Legs aren't straight enough."

"Waistline is too rigid."

"Collarbones are asymmetrical."

Each critique cut like an icy blade. Steven's back was drenched in sweat. He stole a glance at the man seated at the center of the judges' panel—Alexander Grant, his long fingers tapping the table, impatience radiating from his expression.

Then came Nicole Capra's turn.

Steven's eyes lit up as if he'd found a lifeline. The heiress of the Capra family had opted for a classical aesthetic today—her dark hair cascaded like a waterfall, her sheer skirt swaying with the swing's motion, making her look ethereal amidst the dry ice mist.

"Mr. Grant, Miss Capra is engaged to Andrew Lucas. She has a strong fan base, and her image aligns perfectly with our game's theme—"

Alexander abruptly raised a hand to silence him. "Her feet are too wide."

Steven nearly bit his tongue. He stared at Nicole's delicate feet resting on flower petals—pale, slender, anything but wide.

Patrick Pope checked his watch and murmured, "Sir, you have the Asia-Pacific quarterly meeting next."

As Alexander stood, the stage lights dimmed abruptly. A spotlight illuminated the swing, revealing a pair of jade-white ankles. The feet were petite and exquisitely shaped, with a graceful arch and nails glowing a healthy pink.

The man froze mid-step.

Steven followed his gaze to an unfamiliar girl stepping barefoot onto the stage. She wore a simple white dress, her raven-black hair falling to her waist, half-hidden in the mist.

But it was her feet that captivated—no larger than a size six, with adorable rounded toes that gleamed like fine alabaster under the lights.

Alexander's eyes darkened.

Patrick moved to urge him along, only to see his boss turn and reclaim his seat, gaze locked onto the stage. "Continue."

Steven gaped. Hadn't this man claimed to be in a hurry mere moments ago?

On stage, Susan Thompson remained oblivious to the attention. She swayed gently on the swing, her dress fluttering to reveal slender ankles. Sunlight filtered through leaves, casting dappled patterns over her like a woodland sprite.

Suddenly, Alexander raised his hand. "Stop."

Silence fell. The man stood, his black suit accentuating his tall frame. He strode to the stage's edge, eyes burning as they fixed on those porcelain feet.

"She's the one."