?Chapter 78:


    The judge gawking at Elliana’s Lonely Sunset had silver-streaked hair and carried the vibe of an old-school artist, his eyes practically glowing with a lifelong love for the craft. This wasn’t just any judge—he was Luca Wilde, a legend in the art world.


    Luciano, much younger, was from a different camp, a rising star in the art scene’s political jungle.


    Luciano had climbed thedder by snagging the presidency of the Calligraphers and Painters Association, leading the faction that yed the power game. Luca, on the other hand, held no fancy titles—his clout came purely from his art, honed over decades of devotion.


    When it came to pulling strings and making deals, Luciano was the go-to guy. But when the talk turned to painting itself, Luca was the one everyone looked to, hands down.


    The art world loved to gossip about how both Luciano and Luca swore they were die-hard fans of the iconic Rosa.


    Luciano never missed a chance to name-drop Rosa at big events, piling on the praise with a ir that felt like he was auditioning for her fan club president, even joking he was her “unofficial protégé.”


    Luca often talked about Rosa, but his way of expressing himself was different from Luciano’s.


    When Luciano talked about Rosa, he used flowerynguage, almost like poetry. In contrast, Luca referenced specific works of hers, using straightforwardnguage to highlight the beauty of her art.


    Over time, the art crowd split them into two camps: Luciano, the dreamy romantic, and Luca, the grounded realist.


    These two heavyweights rarely crossed paths, their orbits barely touching, which led outsiders to think their worlds just didn’t ovep much.


    But those in the know? They’d say Luca wasn’t a fan of Luciano’s shy style and made a point to dodge events where he’d be holding court.


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    The Starry Oil Painting Competition finals were the art world’s Super Bowl, and Luca had been roped into judging, even if it meant sharing the spotlight with Luciano.


    Luciano knew full well Luca looked down his nose at him, and it ate him up inside. He was always itching for a chance to put Luca in his ce, but Luca lived like a hermit, consumed by his art, giving Luciano no openings to pounce.


    When Luca let out his stunned exmation, Luciano’s head snapped toward him, a bad feeling crawling up his spine. His pulse kicked into overdrive, and sweat beaded on his brow.


    The host hustled over to Luca, all respect. “Mr. Wilde, got something to share?”


    Luca was still reeling, his eyes glued to Lonely Sunset, scanning it with a magnifying ss like he was decoding a treasure map, left to right, top to bottom. After soaking in the painting one more time, he spun toward the host, practically vibrating. “Can we get the artist of this piece up here?”


    “You got it.” The host didn’t miss a beat, calling out to the crowd. “Miss Elliana Marsh, the genius behind Lonely Sunset! Can you join us on stage? Mr. Wilde’s got something to say.”


    Every head swiveled toward Elliana, tucked away in the corner. Hailee yanked at Elliana’s sleeve, buzzing with excitement. “Elliana, they’re calling you up!”


    “I heard,” Elliana said softly, then rose and walked to the stage, each step steady and sure.


    This was a high-stakespetition, but Elliana kept it low-key, rocking a simple ck tracksuit. Paige, by contrast, was decked out like she was headed to a g, dripping in a glitzy gown and pricey jewels. Elliana’s outfit was in, her makeup a touch bold, but she owned the room with a fresh, maic presence that had everyone’s eyes glued to her as she moved from her seat to the stage.


    Luca’s gaze never left her, and when she stood before him on the disy stage, his voice shook with barely contained awe. “Is Lonely Sunset really yours?”


    “Yup,” Elliana said with a calm smile and a nod. “I painted it this afternoon during my live-stream ss. Millions of viewers can back me up, so no need to wonder, Mr. Wilde.”


    Luca’s lips trembled, and he stared at her, speechless, for what felt like forever. “Elliana… You…”


    Elliana got it—Luca had clocked Rosa’s style in her work. Unlike Luciano, who was all talk, Luca knew Rosa’s art inside and out.


    “Mr. Wilde, try not to get too worked up,” Elliana said with a gentle smile, hoping to dial him back.


    But Luca was too far gone, his excitement spilling over. Without even ncing at the other judges, he turned to the crowd and dered, “Lonely Sunset is hands-down the winner!”


    Luciano shot to his feet, his face stormy with rage. “Mr. Wilde, aren’t you jumping the gun here?”


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