I Became His Sweetheart by Bright Eyes

Chapter 15 President Morgan Appears in Person

Melanie maintained a professional smile as she gazed at the judges‘ panel. One of the figures among the judges was a man named Mr. Hans. She remembered him as the father of Lena’s friend–the girl Melanie slapped at the bachelorette party. Melanie anticipated that the man might try to make things difficult for her.

Unfazed, she projected her prepared materials onto the screen.

“Here’s my resume. I’ve tailored it for my participation at the International Socialites Gala,” Melanie said calmly.

Slide by slide, her presentation showcased her achievements.

“I started learning the piano, arts, and music from a young age. I also learned how to dance from the age of nine and excelled in various genres, especially ballet.

“This is the certificate I received from the Royal Academy of Dance at the age of fourteen for achieving the highest level in ballet.

“And these are photos from my performances in renowned ballet productions.”

Melanie presented her accomplishments confidently, but it was evident that the judges were not interested in hearing her out. After a few

sentences, a judge impatiently interrupted her. “That’s enough!”

“I’m not finished yet,” Melanie responded calmly.

Mr. Hans, the most influential figure on the panel, furrowed his brow and waved his hand dismissively. “Enough, please. Don’t embarrass

of showcasing your abilities when you have

picked her? They must be making light

in time for the ball. Besides, can’t a disabled girl pursue her dreams? My

“Are you leaving

organizer quickly intervened. “Miss Melanie, you can leave your materials here.”

well,” Melanie replied, pursing her lips. She had an ace up her sleeve. Why should she argue with these

when a cold, stern voice echoed through the exhibition hall. “You talk big, but why

is no excuse. A girl with a bad leg can dance, or at the very least,

doors to the exhibition

had a handsome face, but his eyes were sharp and piercing. A single glance from him exuded an overwhelming aura

“President Morgan!”

showed up

respect. They hurriedly offered

at her in an attempt to kiss up to Stephen, “What are you waiting for? President Morgan

dance, can’t you

go on ahead.”

William Moore, extended a hand to encourage her.

had no chance to refuse; the music had already started. She took a deep breath and, with a strong grip on her cane, began to dance gracefully

grace and fluid movements, developed through years of practice, allowed her to create smooth arcs around her crutch. She was like a

with especially expressive eyes. Although she wore minimal makeup, her presence

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