The Villain Mom Awakens — Going Viral by Parenting on a Reality Show-Chapter 260: The Final Selection

During the occasional dinner party, he’d bring up his daughter. Whenever he did, Jackson Kensington would be exceptionally proud, endlessly boasting to everyone that he had a wonderful daughter.

At the thought, Jackson Kensington subconsciously puffed out his chest like a majestic rooster.

His gaze drifted over to Naomi Kenway, and his brow furrowed in disgust.

If Jeanette Kensington was a source of pride and peace of mind, Naomi Kenway was the complete opposite. She was rebellious and contrary, always managing to mess things up.

She was never ladylike as a child. Climbing trees and raiding birds’ nests were her standard antics. She had no mind of her own; whatever Jan wanted to learn, she wanted to learn too, but she’d always give up partway through. She had no perseverance whatsoever.

Ever since elementary school, Jackson Kensington had to frequently go to the school to clean up Naomi Kenway’s messes. Rose Kenway was swamped with her own affairs and had no time, so the humiliating chore fell to him. At that elite private school, every student came from a wealthy and powerful family, and he had to bow and scrape while apologizing to each and every student Naomi had beaten up.

’A troublemaker, a bad seed through and through.’ That was his assessment of her back then.

After a few more times, Jackson Kensington grew tired of it. He started sending his assistant to the school to apologize on his behalf. Coincidentally, Naomi Kenway never caused any trouble at school again after that.

’She must have been scared straight by my scolding,’ he thought.

*

The audition began soon after. All the candidates were led to another room where several judges sat on a raised platform. In the very center was Rhys Quinn. He had extremely fair skin and exquisitely chiseled features. The paleness of his lips gave him a somewhat sickly, yet refined, air.

All the candidates gathered together. As per the rules, they would draw lots to determine their performance order.

Rhys Quinn didn’t say a word the entire time, his beautiful eyes looking listless. His manager, Marcus Maverick, emceed the event.

Soon, it was time to draw lots. After so many days of practice, Naomi Kenway wasn’t particularly nervous. She reached into the bamboo container.

Twelve. A number right in the middle.

As she looked up, she caught a scrutinizing gaze. Naomi Kenway looked over and was surprised to find it was Rhys Quinn.

Soft, slightly curled strands of hair rested on his forehead.

Naomi Kenway paused. ’A sudden suspicion formed in her mind.’

Rhys Quinn slowly drew his gaze back, once again looking utterly bored.

The only requirement for the competition was that there were no requirements. The candidates were simply told to perform anything they wanted, as long as it showcased their abilities.

The lack of requirements made it all the more difficult. The candidates wore a wide variety of outfits. Depending on their chosen dance style, some wore long-sleeved robes with classical charm, while others were dressed in hip-hop attire.

Naomi Kenway was just wearing a standard set of loose-fitting clothes.

The competition began quickly.

One after another, the performers took the stage. It was, admittedly, a beautiful sight to behold.

Naomi Kenway watched with her arms crossed.

She had spent the last few days practically living in the practice room. Naomi Kenway was only able to breathe a sigh of relief when her instructor finally gave her an affirming nod.

’No matter what, I can’t lose to Jeanette Kensington.’

Every time she pictured the sickening faces of Jackson Kensington and Jeanette Kensington, her stomach churned.

A sliver of light appeared at the doorway, and she saw Jackson Kensington tiptoeing in. He had apparently pulled some strings to be there specifically to watch Jeanette Kensington perform, his face beaming with joy and pride.

The sudden light made Rhys Quinn’s brow tighten. His voice was icy. "Who is that?"

"Just a staff member, probably," Marcus Maverick said. "Here to move some equipment."

Rhys Quinn ignored it and went back to watching the performance.

After contestant number 8 finished, number 9 took the stage. She wore a dance costume, slowly ascending the platform. The edges of her sleeves were embroidered with gardenias, both elegant and enchanting.

She gave a shallow bow, capturing everyone’s attention the moment she appeared.

Naomi Kenway clasped her hands, her gaze fixed on the embroidered gardenia on the costume.

Whether it was intentional imitation or not, Jeanette Kensington always had gardenias embroidered on her clothes—just like Rose Kenway.

Her gaze lingered on the lifelike gardenia on Jeanette Kensington’s sleeve. The flower seemed to pull her back into past memories.

Jackson Kensington watched, his eyes glued to the stage. If he weren’t worried about causing a commotion, he would have applauded and proudly announced to everyone around him, just as he always did: "See that? That’s my daughter."

Hiding in the crowd, Jackson Kensington clapped quietly, cheering Jeanette on. He had never missed a single one of her performances.

Jeanette Kensington’s performance was as solid as ever. Her movements were gentle yet powerful, and the flowers on her sleeves seemed to dance along with her. The sight was as beautiful as a painting, effortlessly drawing the audience into the spell of her dance.

On the judging panel, Marcus Maverick’s eyes lit up with admiration. He glanced at Rhys Quinn beside him. "What do you think?"

Rhys Quinn pulled his gaze away from Jeanette Kensington and gave a measured assessment. "Her dance foundation is solid, and her image is good."

Marcus Maverick nodded in agreement. "She’s also very popular. She’d be a great choice."

"I don’t care about popularity," Rhys Quinn said, taking a sip from the cup of hot tea on the table.

At the end of her dance, Jeanette Kensington bowed again.

A faint smile played on her lips when, suddenly, a look of surprise crossed her face. She bent down to pick up a hairpin that had accidentally fallen, then put it back in her hair. It was a pearl hairpin, its style somewhat dated.

Naomi Kenway’s gaze was riveted to the pearl hairpin. Her mouth fell slightly open, her eyes wide with disbelief.

The pearl hairpin was dotted with a few tiny diamonds, nothing particularly unique about its design, but Naomi Kenway remembered it vividly.

She had started learning to dance after noticing Jackson Kensington would often stare at the graceful dancers in magazines. She had been too young then, only hoping to earn her father’s love. She had even copied the outfits of the girls in the magazines, thinking that would be enough to win his affection.

The result, of course, was Jackson Kensington’s cold scorn. Naomi Kenway had thrown that outfit and the pearl hairpin away long ago; she didn’t even remember where.

But today, as Naomi Kenway stared at that familiar pearl hairpin, her mind was yanked back to that day.

At the same time, the words of Ethan Shaw and Laura Grant echoed in her head. She shook her head sharply, pushing all the chaotic thoughts away.

As Jeanette Kensington left the stage, she shot a glance in Naomi’s direction, her eyes filled with provocation and triumph.

’She did it on purpose!’

A smile tugged at Naomi Kenway’s lips as well. Her gaze was cold as it met Jeanette’s. Her beautiful eyes were perfectly calm, as if she were completely unaffected.

Jeanette Kensington faltered for a second, unable to figure out what had gone wrong.

Naomi Kenway had loved to dance as a child, but her passion had faded as she got older. Jeanette Kensington had once asked Jackson Kensington about it out of curiosity, and his answer had made everything clear.

Naomi Kenway’s skill level was no threat to her whatsoever, but Jeanette still wanted to get under her skin.

After number 11 finished their performance, it was Naomi Kenway’s turn.

"Look, that’s Naomi Kenway. I invited her personally. She has the right image, but I’ve never heard that she can dance. From the looks of it, Jeanette Kensington is still the most suitable choice," Marcus Maverick commented.

Rhys Quinn shot him a cold glance. "Oh, a fortune teller now?"