?Chapter 1194:


    Had the organization behind Maia fabricated this identity too—just another mask in a long line of illusions?


    Convinced, Raegan turned to leave. She would report back to Kiley immediately.


    But before she could take a step—


    “Hey,” the girl called out, her voiceced with yful taunt. “You’re not that thin-skinned, are you?”


    Raegan paused.


    The girl speared a piece of beef and grinned around her fork. “I was joking. If you still want to sit… I don’t mind.” Her tone carried a teasing edge.


    Raegan said nothing. She simply pulled out the chair and sat down, eyes fixed on her te, eating in deliberate silence. People always filled silence when they couldn’t stand the tension.


    Sure enough, within seconds—


    “You mad?” the girl asked, leaning forward. “Can’t handle a little teasing? Though I gotta say—you look kind of cute when you’re annoyed.”


    Her gaze swept over Raegan, sharp and assessing. “You’re a…”


    “…model, aren’t you?”


    Raegan nced up and gave a single, curt nod.


    The girl’s eyes lit up. “Seriously? Perfect.”


    Then, just as quickly, her expression shifted—yfulness giving way to something sharper, more focused.


    “Look,” she said, lowering her voice, “I owe you an apology for earlier. I just had a fight with my mom—parents always think they own your life. But that’s not why I’m talking to you.” She leaned in, elbows on the table, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial hush. “Here’s the real question—would you consider bing Annie Crystal’s exclusive runway model?”


    Raegan’s fork ttered against her te.


    Her eyes narrowed. “You? What’s your angle?”


    In that instant, Raegan realized her mistake. She’d approached this like a negotiation with an adult—but this girl wasn’t ying by those rules. She was vtile, unpredictable… and terrifyingly in control.


    Swallowing her disbelief, Raegan asked carefully, “So… you’re offering to sign me?”


    She studied the girl across from her. The whole scene felt surreal.


    There was no way this girl was about to im she was the founder. Right?


    She had already dismissed that possibility. A seventeen-year-old running a global luxury brand? Ridiculous.


    “Yeah,” the girl said, grinning now. “I’d love to sign you. Totally serious. Though…” She shrugged. “The contract still needs my mom and legal to approve it.”


    The crystal chandelier overhead cast shards of white light into her eyes—bright, unblinking, and far too knowing for someone so young.


    Then, leaning back with unmistakable pride, she delivered the final blow. “Oh. Forgot to introduce myself. I’m Anti. Founder of Annie Crystal.”


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