Page 9 of Addicted To His Favorite
The woman sighed, voice dropping to a whisper. “I wonder who he’s talking about… It must be someone special.”
While the whispers filled the room, Emily stood rooted to the spot, her body tense. Her heartbeat roared in her ears.
None of the Graves brothers had been heard of having random relationships with women before. No scandals. No dating.
Which meant… Sebastian hadn’t lied.
‘The woman I take to my bed is the woman I marry.’
Her spine stiffened. Her gaze locked onto the man on the stage.
Then the announcer asked again, “Mr. Graves, have you finalized the lead designer for this project?”
Sebastian’s gaze swept across the room slowly, powerfully.
Amelia straightened instantly, adjusting her dress, a flash of anticipation in her eyes.
‘He’s going to announce my name. I’m the most popular designer in the industry right now. It has to be me.’ she thought, her heart racing with excitement. ‘It has to be me. I’ve launched the most successful collections this year. I’ve worked with royalty, celebrities—there’s no one more qualified.’
Already, she started stepping out from the crowd, walking toward the stage, fully expecting her name to be called.
But Sebastian’s eyes passed right over her… and locked onto Emily.
He didn’t even blink as he spoke into the mic.
“The lead designer of the The Eternal Grace Project will be Emily Crawford.”
A wave of stunned silence swept through the room before it broke into gasps.
Heads turned. All eyes sought out Emily in the crowd. She stood frozen, unable to process what she’d just heard.
Sebastian stepped off the stage, strode straight to her, and took her hand. With one firm pull, he brought her up to him, his arm sliding around her waist in full view of hundreds.
And then he turned her to face the crowd, speaking into the mic with a soft, dangerous smile.
“I am confident we’ll create something unforgettable together—not just professionally, but as partners.”
Applause erupted, loud and stunned. Flashbulbs popped. Murmurs turned to full-blown gossip.
But not everyone was clapping.
Amelia—who had just been about to climb the steps—halted mid-motion. Her eyes widened in disbelief, then narrowed in fury.
The humiliation hit like a slap.
She quickly stepped back into the crowd, cheeks burning. The people around her had noticed. Some smirked. Others whispered, loud enough for her to hear.
“She really thought it was her.”
“I can’t believe she almost walked up.”
“Guess she’s not as important as she thinks.”
Amelia clenched her fists. Rage bubbled in her chest.
“Why her?” she seethed under her breath. “Why Emily? I’m the top designer in this entire country right now. Then why the fuck did he choose that fucking bitch?!”
Her gaze shot daggers at the stage.
