Your Guise Is Slipping, Miss Pearl

Esther clicked her tongue. "You may be a VIP here, but you wouldn't look good in that."

The woman was angry when she heard that. She was tall and beautiful, so why wouldn't she look good in it?

Esther wasn't someone people could walk over, so she started pointing out the woman's flaws. "Your waist isn't slim enough, and your bust is too small. Your legs aren't long, and it seems like you don't take care of your skin. Why not invest a bit more in skincare? You're in your thirties but look older."

The woman was fuming. "I'm not in my thirties! I'm only twenty-three!"

Esther gasped in surprise. "Really? You look mature."

James overheard Esther's critique and was secretly impressed by how she could express disapproval so articulately without being rude. He decided not to intervene, confident in Esther's handling of the situation.

The woman, now humiliated, didn't know whether to leave with or without the dress and in frustration, threw it to the floor and stepped on it.

Esther frowned at her crazy behavior. "The designers work hard on these creations. How can you disrespect their work like this?"

The woman snapped back, "I'll buy it then. It's none of your business!" To her, it seemed better to ruin the dress than to let anyone else have it. Just then, someone came from the back of the shop.

Agnes, who had come to discuss next season's designs with the designer, was drawn out by the commotion. Seeing her future daughter-in-law being insulted, she couldn't just stand by silently especially after overhearing

everything.

She walked over and picked up the dirty dress.

"Sydney, look how your VIP treats your designs," Agnes said, emphasizing the term 'VIP,' which made the woman go pale.

The woman was caught off guard, thinking the designer wouldn't be there that day. She thought she could get away with her behavior since she was a regular and believed the staff wouldn't dare confront her.

But being caught by the designer herself was a different story, putting her in a position where she felt she couldn't shop there anymore. She quickly tried to smooth things over with a smile. "It's just a

O

misunderstanding..."

Sydney, who was a foreigner but spoke the language fluently and with elegance, couldn't hide her anger. "So my designs are just for you to trample on, is that it?"

"No, it's not like that. They're making me look bad on purpose." The woman quickly played the victim, as if she was the one being bullied.Content is property of NôvelDrama.Org.