Chapter 124

The eliminated contestants stood with ashen faces, their eyes burning with resentment.

"Should've joined Aria's team," someone muttered under their breath.

"Being stuck with Serena Blake is the worst luck," another contestant hissed through gritted teeth.

The two who advanced exchanged glances, relief evident in their expressions.

"Next time, please don’t pair me with Serena again."

The livestream chat exploded.

[Is Serena Blake cursed? Everyone around her flops!]

[Her entire team got eliminated except two. Pathetic.]

Serena’s fans immediately jumped to her defense.

[Blame your own lack of skill!]

[If it weren’t for Serena, they wouldn’t even rank third!]

Neutral viewers had enough.

[Vivienne Archer carried that performance.]

[Aria’s whole team advanced—now that’s real talent.]

On stage, Serena dug her nails into her palms, staring at the rankings displayed on the screen. The words "Third Place" burned her vision.

But what truly unsettled her was the sudden, inexplicable chill creeping through her veins—as if something vital was slipping away...

Aria noticed the shift in Serena’s aura and smirked inwardly.

"The backlash has begun."

After the live performance, Aria’s team swarmed her, buzzing with excitement.

"Aria, let’s celebrate!"

"Damian, you should come too!"

Aria chuckled and glanced at Damian. "You in?"

His eyes softened. "Your call."

The contestants gaped—since when was the notoriously aloof Damian Cross this agreeable?

Kieran Doyle booked an upscale BBQ restaurant, reserving the entire place.

"Tonight, we drink till we drop!" Mason Bell raised his glass.

Aria, cheeks flushed from alcohol, suddenly pushed her drink toward Damian.

"Damian, cheers!"

He arched a brow, took the glass, and downed it in one go.

The contestants stared in shock.

"Damian actually drank?"

"Only Aria could pull that off..."

By midnight, the group staggered out of the restaurant, still riding the high.

A cool breeze brushed past as Aria swayed slightly, her head spinning.

"I'll take you home," Damian murmured beside her.

She squinted at him. "Sure."

Inside the elevator, he stepped closer.

"You hold your liquor well," Aria tilted her head up, meeting his dark gaze.

Damian chuckled lowly. "Trying to get me drunk?"

"And if I did?" Her ears burned.

He leaned in, breath warm against her skin. "Then do whatever you want."

"Jerk!" She punched his arm, face scarlet.

The elevator doors slid open, and Aria bolted out—only for Damian to catch her wrist.

"Easy," he sighed. "Don’t trip."

In the car, Aria kept nodding off. Damian gently guided her head to his shoulder.

"Sleep. I’ll wake you when we arrive."

She hummed drowsily, nuzzling against him before drifting off.

Damian watched her peaceful expression, his gaze impossibly tender.