Chapter 752:

With her new gentle image and record of charity, she had drawn a tide of fans back to her side.

Laurel had always sworn off stars with stained reputations. But considering who was backing Ainsley, she had to weigh her options.

Teaming up with her might not be so foolish. It could win her an ally, and if trouble came, the one backing Ainsley would bear the blame.

After much thought, Laurel settled on her decision.

Fiona had been waiting nervously for a word from Elegance. What she received instead was a short, cold note: “Sorry, we sent the wrong email. The earlier contract is void.” Since nothing had been signed, she had no grounds to fight it. The message left her feeling tricked and hollow.

Her career had been stuck in place. Ever since her split with Deandre, the slide had only grown steeper. Desperate for a way back into the spotlight, she stared at Elegance’s shallow apology, fury burning in her chest. Yet she could do nothing but hold it in.

Was she already too old, too faded to matter?

She curled on her bed, anxiety gnawing at her as doubts about her age and looks clawed at her mind.

At Elegance’s main factory, the last stitches were going into place. As one tailor hemmed a trench dress, his eye caught something strange in the petals’ design.

One of the patterns on the petals appeared to be overlaid with a transparent thread. It didn’t affect the final look, but it didn’t seem strictly necessary either. He hesitated, then brought it to Paola. She, as designer, should know the reason.

“These veins have a semi-transparent stitch,” he said, pointing. “It almost feels like it plays with light. But if we left it out, the dress wouldn’t suffer.”

Paola felt clueless about the design, finding it odd. Still, she answered calmly, “I just thought it would add depth. Isn’t that fine?”

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The tailor studied the petals again. The pattern looked more deliberate, almost like a hidden mark. But he bit back his suspicion.

Elegance had long been known for its patchwork approach — buying outside sketches, tweaking them, then calling them originals. Speaking too much might only brand him a meddler.

At Sweetberry, Rylie carried out her usual inspection. Alyssa worked beside several tailors, while Melany gave precise instructions. They raced the clock but managed to finish the piece in time for the competition.

Zuri followed her into the workroom, awe in her voice. “It’s gorgeous! The details are flawless. I wish I could wear it myself!”

On display nearby sat the trench coat from the Spring line. Its fabric was plain, the stitching careless.

Rylie gave it one look and waved. “Alright, you can go now.”

After Zuri offered a respectful nod and slipped away, Melany gently tugged Rylie toward a heavy curtain. With a swift motion, Alyssa swept it aside, unveiling the real full seasonal ready-to-wear collection.

The unique designs, crafted from exclusive, limited-edition fabrics, radiated stunning elegance.

Rylie’s eyes sparkled with approval. “The fabric you selected is impeccable — it captures the theme flawlessly.”

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