When Rose got to her office, she found Clarissa standing stiffly, waiting for her.

“Are you Clarissa Sparks?”

At the sound of her name, Clarissa hurriedly rose to her feet. “Ms. Emerson.”

Rose studied her with surprise. She had expected the matriarch of the Schmidt family to exude grace and authority, not the demeanor she encountered.

Clarissa only wore a simple white suit with her hair in a neat bun. Though her makeup was impeccably applied, it couldn’t hide the exhaustion etched on her face.

“Ms. Sparks, please take a seat,” Rose said, masking her initial resentment toward a meeting with a member of the Schmidt family. She decided to withhold her emotions and assess the situation first.

desperately need your help in designing an evening gown,” Clarissa pleaded. “Money is no object. I can pay you double or even triple what others would offer.

Please, I implore you!”

remarked, noticing Clarissa’s trembling

appointment only. Making exceptions would disrupt our production schedule and compromise the quality of our work, which wouldn’t be fair

could finish, Clarissa sank to her

Sparks?” Rose panicked and quickly went

pulled Clarissa up, Clarissa’s

glimpse of a few large bruises and bloody marks on

mind reeled from

own past, where her mother endured humiliation to provide her with a better life.

for an evening gown. Only a masterpiece from you can surpass all others. Your designs

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