Antonio rushed over quickly to meet her and grabbed her by her arm, "I didn't say you could come here. Leave immediately before you add to the problems we already have."
Jasmine didn't flinch.
Instead, she slowly lowered her gaze to his hand on her skin like it disgusted her.
"Take your hand off me, Antonio. You lost the right to touch me the day you chose her over me."
Her voice was calm.
Too calm and it made him stiffen.
"And why wouldn't I come here? After all, this competition includes my perfume. My work. My formula."
And with that, she quietly took her arm out of his, and walked away from him,
"Jasmine, this is an important competition. Stop all this buffoonery and go home. Before you embarrass all of us and ruin our chances here."
Jasmine turned and leveled him with a cool gaze.
Embarrass you?" she said softly. "You stole my work, tried to frame me for theft, and you're worried about embarrassment?"
Antonio froze.
"If anyone should be afraid tonight… it's you."
And with that, she turned away from him again and kept walking, leaving him in utter shock. She had never once spoken to him in such a provocative way. She had always done all that he expected of her. even so far gone overboard. But had never had the courage to talk back to him. Not once, in all of their years of being together. What then had gotten into her, he wondered?
Who was this woman looking at him with eyes full of steel?
She stepped onto the stage and reached for the microphone. It felt cold in her fingers.
Her heart pounded once.
Twice.
Then suddenly, a memory flashed in her head. Her mother lay pale in the hospital bed. The unpaid bills. The threat of prison Flora had almost pushed her into.
This wasn't just about pride anymore.
This was survival.
"Good evening ladies and gentlemen. I am Jasmine Romano and the perfumer of Roodles. And the perfume Jamio was created by me."
Jasmine said carefully, without cowardice.
Meanwhile, Flora watched her with gritted teeth and angry eyes. She was eager to hear what Jasmine had to say. No less expected her to make a fool of herself… and drag them all along with her, she thought bitterly.
Just how the woman had gotten a position as a perfumer at Roodles was a mystery to her. It was a small company that had not been in business for years. But it was still a subset of D'antonio Inc. and so, it wasn't just anyone who worked there.
Could it be…Flora wondered, that Jasmine had actually gotten a position in such a place?
"Jasmine, Romano? Why does that name sound familiar?" people uttered to each other such a thing and the likes.
"Oh, I remember. She was a participant in France about three years ago. I think that's where I heard the name from." One person replied to her neighbors who questioned and speculated.
"Ah, yes! That's right!" another said, clapping, "Of course, it's her! And here I was trying to think about some kind of majestic individual."
And just like that, everyone was interested in Jasmine and what she was about. Waiting expectedly for what was to come next. Some were sure that it was going to be worth their while.
The competition wasn't such a large one, or internationally popular, but the turn out was usually really good, especially with middle and small-sized companies.
The competition saw a lot of new perfumers who came and entered because perfumers needed awards for the sake of popularity. As a way of marketing. So it was a win-win approach for all involved.
Roodles was bound to benefit from all of this, because although it was a subset of D'Angelo Inc. it still was a new company, and needed to grow. So the competition was to the company's good advantage.
After hearing everyone's uproar and speculation, it was like a douse of cold water and had flora coming to her senses. She cleared her throat and putting her far aside, she walked to the microphone and spoke into it,
"Good evening everyone, my name is Flora, and I'm a junior perfumer at Luigi Inc. Please forgive the amount of time I've wasted prior to stepping up and speaking all of this infringement mess."
"I haven't been in this industry for too long, and as most of you are my seniors, you all know how much time, effort and research a person must put into the creation of a good perfume. With all of this done over the past three months, I never could have envisioned that with all of this, my perfume would still be imitated. "Flora said and turned to jasmine, giving her a pointed look.
Jasmine didn't look away, but it baffled her to consider how a person she considered a good friend could have turned out to be such a serpent.
She had even gone so far as to steal her formula, report her to security, and almost sent her to jail.
And now she called her an imitator?
Laughable.
Flora shot daggers at Jasmine with her eyes and continued, "But nevertheless, I must acknowledge the fact that is worthy of imitation says a lot about the masterpiece I created.
Jasmine scoffed at her and raised a brow, "Masterpiece? Please." Jasmine said and rolled her eyes. She wasn't aware that half-arse perfumers, who put in zero effort were actually makers of masterpieces.
But that didn't bother Jasmine. She was well aware that if Flora was stripped of all the information she had about the perfume she would be left with nothing.
All the woman was good for was seducing men and saying absolute rubbish.
The host who was well aware of the heat brewing cleared his throat and spoke into the mic, "Surely, with the look of things, both of you definitely put in good work in the creation of your perfumes. Perhaps it was just some kind of creative coincidence?"
Flora raised a brow at the host and shook her head, "this is too big to be a coincidence." Flora said in a bold voice that suggested that Jasmine was guilty of creative theft.
And the manner in which she spoke so boldly had people wondering if she wasn't right and if Jasmine wasn't the problem. After all, Jasmine had remained quiet all this while and had many wondering if she was fainthearted.
"Plagiarism in this industry is a big deal and all the regulatory bodies involved should stop at nothing to put a stop to it," Flora added.
The host turned to Jasmine,
"You have nothing to add, miss?"
Jasmine smiled faintly, "I've always been a firm believer that what's for me is for me. And so, if there are people who seek to take from me, then they must also be ready to bear the crosses I bear." Jasmine said confidently.
From the VIP balcony above—
A tall figure watched silently.
Jasper D'Angelo's gaze never left Jasmine.
He watched the way she stood straight under pressure. The way she didn't beg. Didn't cry. Didn't crumble.
She was strong, just like that girl from years ago.
The one who had shielded him with her tiny body.
His fingers tightened slightly on the railing.
And he inhaled deeply as her sweet scent drifted faintly through the air — orange blossom… warm… familiar.
His heart skipped once.
It was impossibly familiar. But could it really have been her? Was she truly the girl from his childhood?
Behind him, Lorenzo murmured, "Sir, should we intervene?"
Jasper's eyes darkened.
"Not yet." He murmured and then added quietly, "Let's give her a moment to shine."
Below, Jasmine felt it.
A heavy and protective gaze on her
And when she looked up, her eyes met Jasper's. For a brief second.
And the world stilled.
She tried to smile, but her breath caught instead
That man… the one who now owned half of Venice… the one who had forced her into becoming his mistress…
He was looking at her like…she mattered.
Heat crept up her neck.
She quickly looked away, turned her attention back to the host
"…Alright everyone. I believe that there is some kind of understanding…" the host said, and as the words left his mouth a scent that was so awful filled the air and had the crowds reacting negatively. It was the fact that the host chose to be professional that had him looking and acting stoic in the face of such a terrible smell.
It was a rancid smell, that sort of smelt like moldy food that had been in the sewer for so long. With it was a strong smell that had you wanting to throw up.
"what sort of thing is this?" someone cried.
"Imagine someone bringing their child, just to experience this!" another cried, and soon, everyone discovered that Flora was the source of the smell.
Flora, who realized that the problem was coming from her, opened her mouth to speak, but was already being distanced by the people around her.
She found that she wanted to weep. What had happened? Who had dumped a sewer all over her?