Estelle Lockwood was silent for a moment. "A prince from Britain?"
’A prince from Britain wants me to design jewelry?’
"That’s right. He specifically requested you. I heard he came all the way to Crestfall just for this jewelry set."
Estelle Lockwood nodded. "Alright, I’m on my way to the office now."
"Um..." Seeing that Estelle had agreed, Penelope Sullivan rushed to the office, only to have the assistant tell her that the butler who had come to negotiate had already left, leaving behind some design requirements.
He was a prince, after all, so they couldn’t afford to offend him, but Penelope Sullivan still muttered under her breath, "He’s already gone? How rude."
Estelle Lockwood gave a noncommittal response. "Send the requirements over. I’ll take a look."
When Estelle Lockwood received the design requirements from Penelope Sullivan, she was a bit surprised.
It wasn’t because the requirements were particularly difficult, but because the British prince’s requests were all centered on traditional Innerland elements.
Plum blossoms, cranes, and laurel.
Such elements were common in Innerland, but they didn’t seem to be part of British culture.
Estelle was puzzled for a few seconds. ’Maybe... this British prince is just very interested in Innerland’s culture?’
’Otherwise, he wouldn’t have come all this way to Innerland to hire me.’
After accepting the commission, Estelle holed up in her workshop. Two days later, Penelope Sullivan pushed open the door. "Estelle, the client wants to see your preliminary sketches."
Estelle, of course, had no objection.
The person who received them was the Prince’s butler again. Perhaps from his long years of service in the British royal household, the man’s first impression on Estelle was one of pure arrogance.
He took her design sketches and gave her a fleeting, dismissive glance, as if she were a speck of dust, unworthy of a single word.
After the butler left, Penelope grumbled, "If that prince wasn’t so powerful, I’d seriously tell them to shove this commission. If the butler acts that high and mighty, you can just imagine what the prince himself is like."
Estelle never gossiped about clients behind their backs, but she had to admit the butler’s gaze was... strange. An unplaceable sort of strange.
"Come on, Estelle, let’s go look at handbags. I’ve been wanting to get a new one." Ignoring the butler’s attitude, Penelope dragged Estelle to the mall after they finished their meal.
The two of them entered a handbag boutique. Penelope’s eyes immediately landed on a sapphire-blue bag. "Could you take that one down for me to have a look?" she asked the sales associate.
To their surprise, the associate looked troubled. "I’m sorry, miss... but another young lady has bought out our entire inventory. We aren’t open to the public today."
Penelope was stunned. "She bought out the whole store?"
"Yes. If you’d like, you can visit our other branch. We can arrange for a private car to take you there."
Penelope was flabbergasted. Every bag in this store cost at least seven figures. She had to grit her teeth just to splurge on one. Who could possibly buy out the entire store in one go? That had to be tens of millions, maybe even over a hundred million!
’Talk about filthy rich.’
Just as Penelope was about to suggest they check another store, a mocking laugh reached their ears.
"A private car? Don’t be fooled by them. You really think they can afford bags this expensive?"
Estelle narrowed her eyes and turned. The woman standing in the corner looked familiar. It was Sophie Foster, the one who’d lost her bracelet at the last banquet.
Sophie Foster jutted out her chin. "Estelle Lockwood, I almost fell for your tricks last time. Thankfully, Thea told me the truth. I won’t be fooled by you again!"
She had been furious with Thea York after that incident, but Thea came to her and apologized.
Two days later, she learned from Mrs. York that Estelle Lockwood was actually a fraud. She wasn’t the designer Star at all; it was all a trap Estelle had set for Thea.
’I actually blamed Thea for no reason, and she didn’t even hold it against me. Thea is the best!’
Estelle Lockwood: "..." ’Even if you could cure that level of stupid, she’d probably just end up drooling.’
Sophie Foster turned to the sales associate. "These two are phonies. Forget a million-dollar bag—everything they’re wearing, from head to toe, is fake. If you let them stay, just watch Thea walk right out!"
The associate’s face instantly paled.
Miss Thea York was their VIP client who had just extravagantly bought out the entire store. Besides, she had been with Mr. Sloan, and it was obvious he was prepared to spend a fortune on her.
The associate frowned. "You need to leave. You’re not welcome here. If you don’t go, I’m calling the police."
Penelope’s brow furrowed. "Miss Foster, you’re the type of person who’d get sold and still help count the cash."
’Estelle has no money? Estelle is a fraud? This Sophie Foster got screwed over by Thea York once and still trusts her implicitly. What is wrong with her brain? Maybe she should see a neurologist.’
Sophie Foster exploded in a rage. "Let me tell you something, Estelle Lockwood! I already wronged Thea enough by believing you last time! I’m not falling for it again!"
"Thea said you’re a fraud and that you’re broke!"
Sophie shouted so loudly that passersby began to peer in from the doorway.
Sophie seemed to want the whole world to hear. "Estelle Lockwood, what kind of designer are you? You’re nothing but a gold-digger who clings to men! All your money comes from Mr. Sloan, and now Thea is the one he treasures most! Once a man stops spending money on you, you’re left with nothing. You’re not like our Thea!"
Penelope seized on a key phrase. "The one he treasures most?"
Sophie said smugly, "And why do you think Thea bought out the whole store? Because Mr. Sloan told her to!"
"Mr. Sloan said that the woman he cares about most loves the bags from this store, so he booked the entire place for her! And Thea came here with Mr. Sloan. So, you tell me, who did he do it for?"
All eyes instinctively turned to Estelle.
Estelle arched an eyebrow. Catching a glimpse of a figure on the floor above, her smile widened. "So, Nathaniel Sloan bought out this store for Thea York..."
"Of course!" Sophie planted her hands on her hips. "Just you wait to be cast aside! There’s no good ending for a loveless marriage. The one who isn’t loved is the real mistress!"
Estelle nodded slowly. "That explains how Mrs. York succeeded so easily as the mistress. And how Miss Thea York, as an illegitimate daughter, feels no shame in planning to follow in her mother’s footsteps. So that’s the logic."
It took a moment for Sophie to realize Estelle was mocking Thea. Her face flushed with anger, and she roared furiously:
"Stop changing the subject! You’re the fraud, a pathetic bitch who can’t survive without a man! Mr. Sloan dotes on Thea, and you’re just dying of jealousy, aren’t you!"
"Is that right..."
Estelle waited for Sophie to finish her tantrum, then raised her eyes with a beaming smile, her gaze meeting someone else’s.
She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Her red lips parted. And as Sophie’s expression grew ever more smug, Estelle called out two simple words—
"Mr. Sloan?"
’Is that right, Mr. Sloan?’
...
’Mr. Sloan? Who is Estelle calling?!’
Sophie whirled around, and when she saw the tall figure standing there, she froze.