Chapter 3

Claire rented a loft studio in a creative park just outside downtown.

The lower level was her workspace, and the upper level had room to live. It wasn't big, but it was bright and open, with floor to ceiling windows facing east. The morning sun could flood the entire space.

Compared to that huge, empty, cold villa, this place finally made her feel at home.

She pulled the drawing tablet from her suitcase, set it on the desk by the window, and hung her few clothes in the closet. That was all it took to settle in.

By the time she finished, the sun was already up.

The morning light streamed through the windows and fell warm on her shoulders.

Claire stretched, sat down at her desk, and opened her laptop.

James had already emailed her the entry materials and competition guidelines for the National Landmark Design Competition.

The theme this year was Rebirth.

Designers were tasked with creating a cultural landmark for Riverdale's old town renewal, something that balanced modern function with the city's memory.

The design had to consider commercial value while preserving the soul of the old neighborhoods and capturing the unique cultural identity of Riverdale.

The moment Claire saw the theme, her eyes lit up.

She knew Riverdale's old neighborhood like the back of her hand.

As a child, she'd lived there with her grandmother for over a decade. Every brick, every narrow lane, every old locust tree was carved into her bones. After her grandmother passed and the old house was torn down, she never went back.

But those memories never faded.

During those three years of hidden marriage, on countless sleepless nights, she would sit with her drawing tablet and sketch those old alleys, the dessert shop at the corner, the old oak in her grandmother's yard.

No one else could bring the kind of connection and understanding she had for this theme.

And more than that, the word Rebirth fit her perfectly right now. She was leaving the past behind and starting fresh.

Claire took a deep breath, her fingers touched the drawing tablet. She started sketching the first lines without a moment's hesitation.

The ideas poured out like a flood, unstoppable.

She had kept a low profile these past three years and hadn't designed anything publicly, but she never stopped drawing.

All those late night doodles, the casual sketches, the design drafts she quietly fixed for Leon, every one of those moments had sharpened her craft. Her work now was more mature than three years ago, warmer, stronger.

Claire barely slept for three whole days.

When hunger hit, she'd just throw together a bowl of cereal. When exhaustion took over, she'd put her head down on the desk for ten minutes.

The only things that existed were the lines on her tablet and the endless ideas unfolding in her mind about the old town, about rebirth.

Claire finally hit submit an hour before the registration deadline, sending her preliminary design and entry materials to the competition committee.

The moment it was done, she let out a sign of relief, leaned back in her chair, and watched the sky darken outside the window. A smile crossed her face.

After three long years, she was finally creating art for herself again.

Meanwhile, inside the CEO office at the Carter Group, Leon stared at his phone with a deep frown.

It had been three days.

Three whole days since Claire walked out and slammed the door, and she hadn't come crawling back like he'd expected. Not one call. Not a single text. It was like she'd vanished off the face of the earth.

It was like she'd vanished off the face of the earth.

A strange, nameless irritation rose up inside him.

His assistant knocked and stepped in, taking in Leon's dark expression before carefully reporting.

"Mr. Carter, I've looked into Ms. Summers' whereabouts as you asked three days ago. She rented a studio in the creative district east of town. She's barely left it since," he said.

"A studio?" Leon looked up, his voice dripping with scorn. "What kind of studio could she possibly run? She's been a housewife for three years. What does she even know how to do besides laundry and cooking?"

In his mind, Chloe was just an ordinary woman with no degree and no skills. If he hadn't taken her in years ago, she wouldn't have made it in Riverdale at all.

Opening a studio? Nothing more than make-believe, a child's game.

Leon waved a dismissive hand. "Forget it. Don't bother with her. Once her money runs out, she'll come to her senses and come home."

His assistant paused, then spoke again. "Mr. Carter, there's one more thing. Registration for the National Landmark Design Competition, the one our group exclusively sponsors, closed today.

"Ms. Lane has also entered. She called and asked if I could reach out to the competition committee to give her submission a little extra attention."

At the mention of Vivian, the irritation faded from Leon's face, and his tone softened. "Okay. Let the committee know. This is Vivian's first time in a major competition. Make sure no one gives her a hard time."

"Understood, Mr. Carter." The assistant nodded and added, "One more thing, Mr. Carter. Among this year's applicants, there's a newcomer named Claire Summers.

"The preliminary judges saw her submission and couldn't stop praising it. They say she might be the dark horse of this competition."

"Claire Summers?" Leon echoed the name, feeling it was a total stranger and not worth a second thought. He scoffed, "Why are you even telling me about a nobody?"

"No, Mr. Carter," the assistant quickly explained. "Her design style is identical to that of the prodigy Claire Summers who suddenly disappeared three years ago. That Claire won the Aethel Design Gold Award.

"We tried to hire her as chief designer for the headquarters building. We offered her triple the top rate, but she still turned us down."

Leon had never cared about the design world.

When the headquarters building was in the works, he handed the whole affair to the design director and only glanced at the final product. As for that unattainable designer back then, he never even bothered to remember her name.

Leon let out a scoff, his tone thick with dismissal. "Just a copycat. A real prodigy who vanished for three years doesn't suddenly pop back up out of nowhere. Forget it. She's a nobody. She won't make any waves."

In his eyes, no designer mattered except Vivian.

Seeing Leon's lack of interest, the assistant didn't dare push further and quietly excused himself.