Dark Revenge Of A Jilted Bride: Till Life Do Us Part!-Chapter 86: The Convention VII
By the time the announcer called Gianna’s name again, to give a speech and accept another award on behalf of the company—an award created just then, the hall had quietened somewhat.
"Gianna Aldo, please join us on stage."
Gianna rose slowly, smoothing her palm over the fabric of her suit—not to steady herself, but out of habit.
You’ve got this. She mused as she walked. It was already done. Her place was already cemented; she was a pacesetter.
For some reason, she remembered the marriage proposals she had received from the two most eligible bachelors in town, and held in the urge to laugh.
If she hadn’t believed in herself, she would have agreed to those lame stunts. Would have chosen the shortcut to success.
She was damn glad that she hadn’t!
She was damn proud of herself that she hadn’t agreed to some half-ass marriage proposal to make a statement in the industry.
She was glad too, for the competition of the day and the spectacular nature of the reveal. It had proven to people that she wasn’t depending on handouts or names to move ahead in the industry.
Sabrina’s accusations had been the icing on the top. Had created the platform needed for people to see her working, her sketches, the rough starts.
By the time she reached the stage, the smile on her lips was a genuine one, not even fazed by the hostility she was detecting from rival companies who had attended with high hopes of securing some deals.
She didn’t blame them even. She had snagged all the mouthwatering deals for herself and the company.
She was going to be freaking rich enough to pay Noah...
Thinking it made her look for him, look at him. He was still sitting down in the same spot, watching her...
Did he not tire?
After that short convo they had exchanged on his arrival, he hadn’t said a word to her, only to her friends, considering they sat in the same row.
It made her wonder what they were planning... if they had planned anything...
When it came to Noah, she was beginning to realize that her friends were bound to interfer... in some situations...
And then the seemingly cold man winked at her.
So sudden was it that her eyes widened a fraction before she looked away, fast!
The moderator, unaware of the thoughts and emotions besieging the designer beside him, smiled broadly, holding the envelope like ceremony demanded.
"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your patience. After review by the panel and our industry partners..."
He paused, just long enough.
"The winner of this year’s design showcase—Best Contemporary Collection—goes to Beckett’s Jewelry, for The Reclaimed Line, designed by Gianna Thorne and Vance Kleverman."
Applause exploded, wrapping her.
She beamed, accepted the envelope, which was to suffix as a plaque for now, when it was handed to her.
"Thank you..." she murmured to the moderator who smiled wider.
Then she turned to face the audience.
Somewhere near the front, Vance was on his feet, clapping openly, while Daphne dabbed at her eyes with a napkin, smiling through it.
Gianna lifted the microphone. For a split second, she said nothing.
"When I started designing," she said finally, voice steady but warm, "I didn’t think about stages like this. Or awards. Or recognition."
A soft chuckle moved through the crowd.
"I thought about survival. About expression. About turning experiences—good and bad—into something tangible."
Her gaze drifted briefly to her friends, staying.
"This collection is about reclaiming power. About beauty that doesn’t apologize for being sharp."
Claps and voices of agreement echoed.
"And I’m glad the Becketts saw that, understood that, and ran with me on it. So then, it’s not a surprise that they are the best jewelry company in the state..."
When she finally climbed down from the stage, she caught sight of Arthur standing off to the side, eyes damp, hand pressed briefly to his chest as he watched the chaos unfold around the booth again.
Their gazes met, and he nodded—once, deeply.
He hadn’t expected this. Neither had she. Not this great an affair.
But here it was.
By the time the rush eased, Gianna felt the weight of it settle into her shoulders—not exhaustion, but gravity.
She stepped aside with Athena, needing a breath, and accepted a glass of water when Chelsea pressed it into her hand.
"You okay?" Athena asked quietly, eyes scanning her face.
Gianna nodded. "I think so. It’s just... a lot."
Areso laughed softly. "You’re about to redefine ’a lot.’" 𝑓𝘳𝑒𝑒𝓌𝘦𝘣𝘯ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝑚
Gianna smiled, lips curving with something that felt like peace. She caught her reflection in a mirrored panel nearby—eyes alight with vision.
As the event began to wind down, she found herself standing near the exit, watching the flow of people leaving—some buzzing with excitement, others already on their phones, spreading the word.
Vance joined her, hands in his pockets, grin unguarded. "You did it."
"We did it." She corrected. "I couldn’t have without you."
He shrugged lightly. "You would’ve, I think.." A loaded pause. "Thank you... for believing in me and my work..."
Seeing the fellows that had swarmed around him occasionally during the event, Gianna knew that Vance was just about to be promoted.
But she said nothing. Best not to count a chicken before it was hatched.
At least, he was richer now, enough to take care of his mother.
"You’re welcome."
"Hey Gia, come on... let’s go and see our models..."Areso broke in then, dragging Gianna away from a smiling Vance, who followed them toward the backstage, feeling stupendously high at joining the higher leagues.
—-
"I think I need a massage..." Gianna murmured, sitting on a stool, after the last of the models had left. "Or a vacation..."
Vance laughed. "I’m sure the director will let you have anything at this point..."
She smiled, tiredly, looking at Areso who was organizing her hired assistants for the day, getting them to pack up both clothes, jewelry and makeup.
She hoped so. She thought, just as Athena stepped into the space with Chelsea. And Noah.
