Nina looked straight at Leo and said, slowly and deliberately, “No, I would not.”
Leo’s arm tightened around Tara, his gaze icy and his expression dark as a storm.
The sudden chill in the air froze everyone’s smiles, and the lively atmosphere instantly turned awkward.
Leo’s voice was cold as ice. “Today is my girlfriend’s birthday party, not a press conference for Miss Lucas, the superstar.”
The event organizer quickly stepped in, laughing nervously. “Yes, yes, back to the cake cutting! Let’s get the music going!”
Everyone in the room, seasoned in the entertainment industry, was quick to adjust, and the festive atmosphere picked up again as if nothing had happened.
Tara took the first slice of cake and handed it to Nina with a polite smile. “Welcome, Miss Lucas. Have some cake.”
Nina accepted the cake and studied Tara’s face intently, her eyes narrowing with surprise. “Why do I feel like we look a little alike?”
She turned to the people around her. “What do you all think?”
Those in the know gave awkward smiles and tried to brush it off. “Beautiful people often resemble each other. It’s just a coincidence, haha.”
Those unaware of the underlying tension began to murmur among themselves.
“She does look a little like her.”
“At first glance, maybe, but not so much when you really look closely.”
“They’re completely different styles. One is like a peony—vibrant and stunning. The other is pure and elegant, like an orchid.”
Tara kept her composure, her smile calm. “Maybe it’s destiny. Even when I was younger, people used to say I resembled the famous Nina.”
Her words carried an undertone that wasn’t lost on those paying attention, exchanging subtle glances.
It was true that Tara was young, just twenty-one and fresh out of college, with a natural beauty that exuded innocence and simplicity.
Raised in a wealthy family, she had received the best education and upbringing. Her natural poise, confidence, and elegance made her stand out without effort.
Nina, on the other hand, wasn’t much older at twenty-nine.
But years of cosmetic enhancements and surgeries, combined with navigating the cutthroat entertainment industry, had left her with a complexity that couldn’t be hidden, no matter how hard she tried.
Coming from a modest background, Nina had started at an arts academy as a teenager and thrown herself into the entertainment industry early. Her lack of academic grounding often gave her an air of shallowness.
Grace, after all, comes from within, and side-by-side comparisons could be brutally unforgiving.
Sensing the tension, someone chimed in cheerfully, “Everyone, grab some food! Red wine, white wine—help yourselves and enjoy!”
The crowd dispersed, people grabbing glasses and plates, forming small groups to chat and mingle.
Leo kept his arm around Tara’s waist and asked softly, “What do you want to eat? Or drink?”
In truth, no one came to these events for the food or drinks.
Tara, not knowing anyone here, felt out of place. “Let’s go sit by the floor-to-ceiling windows.”
Leo fetched her favorite red wine and desserts, staying by her side. Yet his eyes kept drifting toward Nina, who was moving effortlessly through the crowd.
Nina’s smile was dazzling, and she navigated the room with ease. First, she chatted with reporters and bloggers. Then she had drinks with a few producers and screenwriters.
Eventually, she started talking with two powerhouse directors in the film industry.
She was clearly networking, laying the groundwork for her return to the domestic entertainment scene, and knew these top-tier directors were essential connections.
As the alcohol flowed, the atmosphere grew looser. Men and women, hungry for fame and fortune, pressed their boundaries—offering drinks, testing limits, and making subtle advances.
Leo’s expression darkened, his mood growing icier by the minute.
At first, he made an effort to talk to Tara occasionally, but soon, he wasn’t even pretending to pay attention to her.
Tara noticed one director’s hand grazing Nina’s lower back while another handed her a large glass of brandy.
