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

Please, I implore you!”

Clarissa’s trembling hand as she held her cup. It was evident she was not in a stable

only. Making exceptions would disrupt our production schedule and compromise the quality of our

sank to

panicked and quickly went to pull

she pulled Clarissa up, Clarissa’s

glimpse of a few large bruises

mind reeled from the

distress, her thoughts drifted to her own past, where her mother endured humiliation to provide her with a better

masterpiece

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