I Slapped My Fiancé—Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis

Applause rattled through the hall as the contestant before me stepped down.

I walked to the centre of the platform.

The screen behind me buzzed once, then flared to life.

White light burned the edge of my vision.

My palms were dry; I’d made sure of it.

I hadn’t come all the way here and worked weeks on four hours’ sleep a night just to flinch now.

I gripped the mic in one hand, the laser pointer in the other.

I began.

‘Good afternoon, judges, guests. I’m Mirabelle Vance.’

I paused just long enough to force them to look up.

‘The theme: Evening Gala. Gemstones. Composure. I designed a four-piece set intended for high-profile, high-visibility events. Met-tier, red carpet-ready. But every clasp, hinge, and suspension curve is engineered for full comfort. Nothing that requires styling glue or double-sided tape to sit right.’

I clicked the pointer.