Can’t Win Me Back

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.

visit, but I 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. All I ask is for your

Please, I implore you!”

Rose remarked, noticing Clarissa’s trembling hand as

by appointment only. Making exceptions would disrupt our production schedule and compromise the

Rose could finish, Clarissa sank to her knees before

Sparks?” Rose panicked and quickly

Clarissa up, Clarissa’s sleeves slid

unintentionally caught a glimpse of a few large bruises and bloody marks on

mind reeled

past, where her mother endured humiliation to provide her with a better life. The haunting image of her abusive father flashed through her mind, a reminder of the pain

an evening gown. Only a masterpiece from you can surpass all others. Your designs would overshadow them