Chapter 16 An Old Acquaintance
Charles strode over quickly, bending down to help Clara up. Noticing the red mark on her elbow, his brows furrowed even tighter. When he turned to look at Ethan and Emma, his eyes had lost all warmth.
"Why did you put your hands on her?"
"She insulted our mom first!" Emma summoned her courage and shouted. Ethan grew agitated, too. "This woman is obviously faking it!"
"Enough! The Windsor Manor is not a place for your tantrums!"
Charles clearly didn't believe the children. In his view, Clara had always been gentle—how could she insult children without reason? Most likely, these kids were taking advantage of William's favoritism and getting too big for their britches.
Seeing she had the upper hand, Clara deliberately leaned into Charles's embrace. He shifted awkwardly backward.
Clara's eyes dimmed momentarily before she quickly recovered, pretending to be understanding. "Charles, don't blame them. It's my fault. I stained Emma's dress, so it's natural they'd be upset."
The more she "defended" the children, the more Charles believed they were at fault.
"Take them home," His expression grew colder as he instructed Nathan, who stood behind him.
Without even a glance at Ethan and Emma, he escorted Clara toward the mansion.
Clara's lips curled into a victorious smile. This was exactly what she wanted—Charles despising these children.
Ethan trembled with anger.
Emma tugged at his sleeve and whispered, "Ethan, let's go."
The children sat silently in the backseat, watching the gates of the Windsor Manor recede in the distance, their small frames concealing indescribable hurt and anger.
Charles's heart felt strangely hollow that night.
As he lay in bed, his nostrils seemed to still hold Emma's sweet, baby-powder scent. His arms felt empty, longing to hold something.
Had he been too harsh with them?
They were only five-year-old children, after all. What if they were truly upset and never returned to the Windsor Manor? William would absolutely tear him apart.
If only for William's health, he'd have Nathan send some gifts tomorrow to apologize.
...
The next morning's sunlight streamed onto Emily's design sketches as promised.
The office was unusually quiet. Without Clara's meddling and with none of the employees daring to slack off openly—after all, Emily's warning about the "bottom elimination system" from yesterday still rang in their ears.
Emily's work efficiency was terrifying.
She had just finished modifying the details of a haute couture gown when her assistant knocked and entered, her face brimming with excitement. "Jane, Mrs. Scott has arrived! She's waiting for you in the meeting room."
Layla Scott was an old client of Mirage Fashion. However, in recent years, as Mirage's designs became increasingly perfunctory, she had switched to other brands.
Her visit today was solely because she'd heard Mirage Fashion had recruited an internationally renowned new designer, and she decided to give the company one last chance.
The design Emily was working on was Layla's custom piece.
This mermaid-style evening gown featured a deep ocean blue as its primary color. The skirt used layered organza embellished with hand-sewn crystals, as if an entire night sky had been folded into the fabric.
"This is the initial draft based on the 'starry night gala' theme you mentioned last time," Emily explained. "The asymmetrical shoulder design exposes your collarbone, while the tightly cinched waist highlights your figure. The skirt's drape has been specially treated to create flowing luminescence when you walk."
Layla caressed the sketch. "Your design style reminds me of someone."
"Who?" Emily's heart skipped a beat.
"Scarlett—Mirage Fashion's founder. You've heard of her, right?"
Emily's breath caught, her hand tightening around her pen.
Layla's gaze drifted, filled with wistful reminiscence. "She was so talented back then, founding Mirage Fashion on her own. Her gown designs even caused a sensation overseas. I warned her about Simon—the man only cared about profit and was completely unworthy of her. But she was blinded by love, insisting Simon genuinely cared for her, and was determined to marry him."
"Not long after the wedding, Simon began interfering with the Lewis Group's management, gradually transferring the Lewis family shares to his name, turning it into what's now the Johnson Group."
"Later, she died of illness, and her daughter reportedly ran away from home. Simon then let his stepdaughter run Mirage Fashion into the ground. It breaks my heart to see it. I've become increasingly disappointed with Mirage Fashion over the years. If I hadn't heard about you joining, I would never have come back."
Emily's eyes grew hot with unshed tears. Looking down at the starry skirt in her sketch, she could almost see Scarlett sitting under a lamp, drawing.
"Thank you for your trust in me. I'll work hard to restore Mirage Fashion to what it should be."
When Clara arrived, Emily and Layla were standing by the sample rack discussing material choices.
Clara immediately put on a gentle smile, quickly walking over to affectionately link arms with Layla. "Mrs. Scott, you're here! How did Emily design your gown? If there's anything you're not satisfied with, please tell me, and I'll certainly..."
Layla's expression froze momentarily as she glanced at Clara, then discreetly pulled away from Clara's grasp. Her tone was cool as she replied, "Emily's design is excellent. I'm very satisfied."
Clara's hand hung awkwardly in mid-air, and she almost couldn't maintain the smile on her face.
She hadn't expected Layla to be so dismissive. When she turned to look at Emily, a flash of hatred crossed her eyes before she quickly masked it, saying softly, "That's wonderful. Mrs. Scott, Emily was really lucky to receive your approval as soon as she arrived."
The words sounded like praise, but actually implied Emily lacked talent and relied solely on luck.
Emily didn't respond to the bait. Instead, she asked Layla, "Mrs. Scott, for these beads, do you prefer matte or glossy?"
"Matte, I think." Layla leaned in closer, pointing at the gown's neckline. "For the lace trim here, would Mirage Fashion's signature Venetian lace add more character?"
Clara listened from the side, her anger rising. Layla was highly respected in the fashion circle, and brands she endorsed invariably sold well.
How could she be so cordial to Emily?
Clara cleared her throat, feigning concern. "Mrs. Scott, I don't mean to criticize Emily, but she's just returned to the country and might not fully understand domestic aesthetics. Since you'll be wearing this gown to a charity gala, perhaps a more conservative approach would be better. Why don't we..."
Layla frowned, looking at Clara. "What exactly are you implying, Ms. Johnson? Emily's design has soul—far superior to those perfunctory pieces I've seen from Mirage Fashion in recent years."
"Please don't misunderstand, Mrs. Scott. I just feel that while Emily may have some reputation abroad, she's still young and lacks experience..."