Chapter 94: Husbands support

The backlash didn’t fade the way scandals usually do.It dragged on all day, growing louder, uglier, sharper. Every hour, more voices joined in, like a crowd circling something wounded.

As if that wasn’t enough, Lincy showed up.

She didn’t come to check on me. She came to enjoy it.

She stood there with that familiar smile polite on the surface, poisonous underneath.

"Riley," she said lightly, "you married into the Hale family for status, and now look at you. Everyone’s laughing. Honestly, it’s humiliating to share the same name with you."

Before I could answer, Grant stepped in.

His expression was hard, disappointed in the way only a pack leader could be.

"I’ve warned you about your public image," he said coldly. "Now that you carry the Hale name, this kind of attention reflects on all of us. You’re not even competing, yet you still managed to stir trouble."

I stared at him, stunned.

"Dad," I said quietly, "do you even know what I’m doing? How can you say I’m not competing?"

He didn’t hesitate. He never did when it came to doubting me.

"Can you even paint?" he snapped. "Or are you just chasing attention again? You embarrassed the Ashbournes once. Now you’re dragging the Hales down with you."

Lincy crossed her arms and leaned closer, eyes bright with satisfaction.

"Exactly. Did you really think bonding with Lewis would suddenly make you useful? Face it, Riley. You’ve always been a burden. You fail at everything."

Her words hit old scars.

The truth was, Riley had never been useless.

She just learned, over time, to shrink.

Every time she showed promise, someone pushed her down. Lincy knew exactly where to press. Even the instructors followed along ignoring her, doubting her, blocking her path. Eventually, Riley stopped showing up at all.

That was how the Ashbournes decided she was a failure.

Meanwhile, Lincy was praised for breathing. Grant’s pride. The golden child. Everything handed to her without question.

But I wasn’t Riley anymore.

Elena had been different.

I had talent. I had fire. As a teenager, I had already made a name for myself. Awards. Recognition. Guidance from the Morrigans themselves. I was trained, shaped, and sharpened.

And now that I was here, I wasn’t about to let Lincy keep pretending.

So I looked at her and asked calmly,

"Oh? You signed up too?"

She lifted her chin, confident.

"Of course. I may not be extraordinary, but there are plenty of categories this year. I might even win Best Newcomer."

Grant smiled and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"That’s what capability looks like," he said proudly. Then he turned to me. "Try not to disgrace yourself."

In that moment, I finally understood why Riley had grown up feeling invisible.

Same blood. Same roof.

Yet he had never truly seen her.

The realization didn’t hurt anymore.

It was almost funny.

"Well then," I said with a small smile, "I hope you rank well. Good luck."

While they focused on tearing me down, Camilla was busy striking from the shadows. She attacked from every angle, desperate to ruin me before the competition even began. She wanted the spotlight all to herself. Wanted the title to stay hers.

I wasn’t worried.

The first round relied on online voting. And thanks to Camilla’s efforts, my entry caught fire the moment it went live.

Her sabotage turned into my opening.

At first, some loyal followers of "S" attacked me over the name. But once they actually looked at the work, the tone shifted.

Comments began to change.

"The style feels different... but the colors are insane. It’s beautiful."

"Maybe the name is a coincidence, but this artist clearly knows what she’s doing."

"Wait could this be the real S?"

Public opinion spreads fast. It feeds on emotion. On instinct. On momentum.

And I knew how to guide it.

Camilla never expected her plan to backfire. Instead of burying me, she lifted me up.

She started with a strong lead, but once New Beginning began trending, my numbers surged. Fast. Relentless.

I didn’t even need to check the rankings to know she was furious.

She had spent a fortune buying support. A few loyal followers still defended her, still attacked me. But more and more people began choosing skill over noise.

And that was something no amount of money could control.

In my spare moments, I checked Lincy’s profile.

Her votes had stalled. Just short of the top ranks. No matter how long I stared, the numbers didn’t move.

I had a feeling the Ashbournes were helping her quietly, pulling strings behind closed doors. So I opened her submission and looked for myself.

The work was neat. Clean. Trained.

Too trained.

Every stroke followed rules. Every color stayed safe. There was skill, but no soul. Nothing reached out. Nothing pulled at the chest or stirred that deep, restless place inside.

With a piece like that, she thought she could stand against me?

Once I saw my own lead holding steady, I stopped worrying. I turned all my focus to the final round.

The studio became my world.

Day and night, I stayed there, surrounded by silence and humming lights, letting instinct guide my hands. I wasn’t just painting to win. I was proving something to the Morrigans, to the Ashbournes, and to the girl they once overlooked.

I wasn’t invisible.

On the morning of the competition, I woke before dawn. My nerves buzzed, sharp and alive, like energy coiled beneath my skin.

I dressed simply. A white shirt. Jeans. Hair pulled into a loose bun. A light coat over my shoulders.

Nothing flashy.

When I caught my reflection, I paused.

This version of me stood tall. Calm. Steady. Someone walking toward her own future instead of shrinking away from it.

When I stepped outside, Lewis was already there.

He looked up and froze for a second.

"You look stunning," he said softly.

I smiled. "Lewis... thank you. For everything."

I never stepped into a challenge unprepared. And I hadn’t walked this path alone. He had been there through every doubt, every long night.

He chuckled. "You don’t need to thank me. We’re bonded. Standing with you is my place." His eyes warmed. "And I can’t wait to watch you take this."

I blinked. "You really think I’ll win?"

He didn’t hesitate. "I know you will. And when you do, no one will forget it."

My chest tightened.

Others worried. Lena had been anxious the night before, afraid of consequences, of losses, of what people might say if I failed. She cared but fear still shaped her trust.

Lewis never feared my strength.

He stepped closer and wrapped an arm around my waist, firm and grounding.

"Mrs. Hale," he murmured, "there’s no one else like you."

Warmth spread through me.

"Then I won’t hold back," I said.

At the venue, familiar faces filled the VIP seats.

Yenik was there, clearly for Camilla. His posture was stiff, his gaze cold. When he saw me, his lips curved into a mocking smile.

"Didn’t see your name on the finalist list, Ms. Ashbourne," he said. "Did you get cut?"

I met his eyes calmly.

"That’s not for you to worry about," I replied. "And it’s Mrs. Hale."

He stiffened.

I leaned in slightly, smiling. "Weren’t you the one who got hurt last time? Looking for a repeat?"

His jaw tightened.

Nearby, Fiona watched me with caution, unease written all over her face. She quickly whispered something to Yenik, urging restraint.

Vivian, seated beside her, looked far more relaxed. Too relaxed.

She had dressed carefully, hair freshly dyed, posture confident. When she noticed me, she smiled with practiced sweetness.

"Oh, Ms. Ashbourne. You came too? Have you seen how far ahead Camilla is in the voting?"

In truth, we were nearly tied.

But I kept my expression smooth.

"She’s doing well," I said. "I hope her luck lasts."

Lincy arrived shortly after, dressed to impress. The entire Ashbourne family followed her in, loud and proud. It was my first time seeing her mother up close.

She walked in beside Grant, elegant and composed. When she saw me, she smiled warmly too warmly.

"Riley, how thoughtful of you to come support Lincy."

Grant didn’t bother pretending.

His face darkened.

"You’re not even on the list," he snapped. "Why are you here? To embarrass yourself again? Go home."

Before I could answer, a deep, steady male voice cut through the tension.

"The competition hasn’t started," Lewis said coolly. "How can you decide she’s embarrassing herself?"

Lincy crossed her arms and scoffed.

"What? She actually made the finals?"

I turned to her, calm and unshaken.

"Yes," I said. "I did."

And the room went quiet.