Free Web NovelChapter 178: Chapter 178 Breaking Records
Christina’s POV
I arrived at the studio just after nine.
I couldn’t stop replaying our kiss in the alley. This morning hadn’t helped matters. My lips felt puffy, and I couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot.
Something had shifted between us. The carefully maintained distance was gone, replaced by a hunger neither of us seemed able to control.
Earlier, I hadn’t even managed to say good morning before Hudson pushed me against the wall and kissed me like we were trying to break a world record.
Thirty minutes. I counted.
By minute twenty-two, my knees had given out.
By minute twenty-eight, I was seeing stars.
I nearly passed out in his arms, but he didn’t stop until I pushed him away.
After breakfast, when I tried to sneak out, he pinned me against the door and spent another ten minutes recreating that delicious haze.
Clearly, the Ice King was dead, replaced by a man who couldn’t keep his hands to himself for more than six minutes.
I should have been annoyed.
Instead, I felt light, warm, like someone had unzipped my ribcage and let sunshine in.
On the way to the studio, I kept grinning, my mouth twitching every time his face popped into my head.
Priya caught me fiddling with my mug by the sink.
"What are you smiling about?" she asked, eyes narrowed.
"Hmm?" I tried to press my lips together, my jaw aching slightly. "Nothing."
She didn’t look convinced. "Well, things are looking up. The Aurette Awards committee just sent an email. You’re back in."
That’s good news, I thought, silently thanking Octavia.
"They’ve officially dropped the disqualification. You’re formally reinstated," Priya grinned. "I printed out the letter. We should frame it." ƒгeewёbnovel.com
My smile returned, wider than before.
Priya held up a printed page.
"This is the competition schedule. Location, check-in, rules. Says you’ll be doing live sketching for eight consecutive hours. Eight hours. Have fun with that."
I took the page from her hands, scanning the key points.
The competition was in Riverbend, a few hours’ drive from Highrise.
Not far, but far enough that I’d need a hotel.
"Can you summarize the themes from past years?" I asked. "And the winning pieces. Anything visual. I want to study up."
"Already on it," Priya said, bouncing toward her desk.
I pulled out my phone and sent Octavia a text: [Thank you for getting me back in. I owe you dinner, drinks, or both.]
She replied with a thumbs-up emoji.
Before lunch, Daniel came racing downstairs with an open laptop.
"You’re not going to believe this," he shouted, pushing the laptop toward me. "That bracelet you launched? It’s blowing up. Thousands of orders already. Might hit ten thousand by tonight."
I stared at the screen. Order notifications stacked on top of each other in rows. All for the same bracelet design.
I’d finished it a month ago. Clean lines, matte gold, a small clasp with a hidden hinge.
It had been a stopgap, a quick release product to make up for all the custom projects I lost after Zoe’s tantrum scared away half my clients.
No clients meant no orders. No orders meant no rent.
I’d posted photos of the bracelet online just to feel productive.
For the first few days, nothing. Crickets.
Then, two nights ago, I’d dressed up a bit, snapped some photos with the bracelet on my wrist, and posted them to Instagram and X.
I hadn’t expected anything; it was just routine marketing. frёewebnoѵēl.com
By morning, the comments had reached ten thousand.
Most comments weren’t even about the bracelet.
Daniel swore. "Crap, the website crashed! Too many orders, the whole system is jammed."
He rotated the screen.
The browser was stuck on a loading screen, the image pixelated, like a bad livestream.
"It can’t handle this much traffic," he said. "I threw it together last month, cheap and quick. I’ll get someone to fix it."
"It’s fine," I said. "A temporary crash isn’t the worst thing. It’ll slow the impact. We couldn’t fulfill ten thousand orders overnight anyway. Once the money comes in, we’ll pay for a proper site."
The bracelet orders still went through the same factory Nyx Collective used for production.
The shop could only produce so many pieces per week.
Even with overtime, it would take a month to work through the backlog.
But I hadn’t priced them low.
Thousands of sales meant substantial revenue. Enough to give Priya and Daniel raises, with money left over for new materials.
By five, my jaw ached from smiling too much.
Each call brought new numbers. Each email reported more media interest.
By six, I’d forgotten what silence felt like.
By eight, I could barely keep my eyes open.
Hudson didn’t come home for dinner like he said he would.
Somehow, I felt a little disappointed.
Just a little? Akira whispered inside me.
Alright, more than that, I admitted to her.
Akira had liked Hudson since the moment we met. Maybe I’d had a crush on him from the very start? I didn’t know, and I was too tired to overthink it.
I sat in the living room with some show playing on TV, canned laughter that I wasn’t really listening to.
At some point, I curled up on my side on the couch and drifted off.
I woke to the sound of the door clicking open.
Hudson walked in, head down, fingers tugging at his shirt collar.
I sat up, blinking hard.
He walked past, trailing the scent of whiskey.
"Have you been drinking?" I asked.
"I didn’t have a drop, but everyone else did."
He shrugged out of his jacket, letting it drop to the floor.
As the fabric sank to the ground, the whiskey smell faded too.
He looked exhausted, dark circles under his eyes.
"There’s warm milk in the kitchen," I said. "Geoffrey made some before he turned in. He wasn’t feeling well, so I sent him to bed early. I’ll get it for you."
I started to rise, reaching for my slippers.
He bent down, one hand pressing on my shoulder, pushing me back against the cushions.
"I don’t want milk," he murmured against my lips.
I tried to speak but couldn’t find my voice.
He moved quickly, hands gripping my waist tightly, body pressing against mine, pinning me to the couch.
The silk nightgown I’d put on after my shower clung to my body.
He grabbed my hips, pulling the material tighter.
His fingers dug into my skin, just above my waistband.
