Chapter 52
Amelia's eyes lit up instantly. She practically abandoned me right then and there, clicking her high heels as she rushed over eagerly.
"Mr. Wilson, you're here." Her voice was sickeningly sweet. "Mom and I were just helping Ophelia pick out a dress, but Ophelia doesn't seem to understand these things at all. She has no idea, and we're so worried for her."
She stopped in front of Benjamin, tilting her head slightly, gazing at him with what she thought was her most charming look, her words full of hints about how boring and clueless I was.
Benjamin's gaze passed over her and landed on me. Seeing me sitting calmly on the sofa, drinking water, a knowing smile flashed in his eyes.
He ignored Amelia's eagerness and walked straight to my side, sitting down naturally. He reached over and took the water glass from my hand, taking a sip.
"How's the selection going?" he asked me, his tone intimate.
Completely ignored, Amelia's face turned pale, but she refused to give up and moved to Benjamin's other side.
"Mr. Wilson, I don't think the dresses Ophelia picked are very suitable..."
"Is Ms. Amelia White finished?" he asked.
Amelia froze, nodding somewhat uncertainly.
"Then go sit over there." Benjamin withdrew his gaze, his tone still polite but carrying an undeniable distance. "Don't disturb my fiancée while we're choosing dresses."
The color drained completely from Amelia's face.
The designer stepped forward at just the right moment, respectfully saying to Benjamin, "Mr. Wilson, your suit is also ready. Please come this way to try it on."
Benjamin nodded. Before getting up, he leaned down to my ear and whispered in a voice only we could hear: "Wait for me. Don't let the flies ruin your mood."
His warm breath brushed past my ear, sending a slight tingle through me. Watching his back as he walked into the fitting room, my lips curved up involuntarily.
As soon as Benjamin left, Amelia immediately recovered her spirit.
I was flipping through a jewelry catalog, and Amelia's chatter was like annoying background noise that I couldn't be bothered to listen to.
She grabbed a dress and went to try it on. Soon, the fitting room curtain was pulled open, and she emerged wearing what she thought was a stunning champagne-colored mermaid dress, walking toward me with affected grace.
The dress had an elaborate design, but on her, it didn't look noble at all—instead, it had the awkwardness of a child wearing adult clothes and looked tacky.
"Ophelia," she stopped in front of me, deliberately twirling around, the rhinestones on her hem flashing with cheap light, "what do you think of this one? The designer said this is their latest haute couture piece. I think it looks better than anything you were looking at. Wearing this to the engagement party, you'd definitely outshine everyone."
Her words were overflowing with showing off and provocation.
I finally lifted my eyes from the catalog, my gaze sweeping lightly over her before returning to the catalog. I spoke with little interest: "It's okay, just doesn't quite match Benjamin's level."
The smugness on Amelia's face froze instantly. "What do you mean?"
"Nothing much," I turned a page of the catalog, my fingertip pointing at a set of sapphire jewelry, "just simply believing that Benjamin's eyes aren't blind yet."
My meaning was crystal clear.
Benjamin wouldn't like the dress she chose, and he wouldn't like her either.
Amelia clenched her fists, shrieking: "Ophelia, don't be so ungrateful! I'm kindly helping you, and this is your attitude!"
"My fiancée doesn't need help from others."
A low, clear voice came from nearby.
I looked up to see Benjamin already changed into his suit, walking out of the fitting room.
He wore a perfectly tailored deep black suit that made his figure look even taller and straighter, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist, radiating a powerful presence.
Though it was the most ordinary color and style, on him it carried an air of nobility and aloofness that set him above everyone else.
He started walking toward us with long strides, his expression already cold.
But I gently shook my head at him, signaling with my eyes that he didn't need to come over.
Benjamin paused, raised an eyebrow, and understood what I meant.
He didn't come forward, but instead crossed his arms and leaned leisurely against a nearby display case, taking on the posture of someone simply watching a show.
With his permission, I put down the catalog, slowly stood up, and walked over to Amelia.
"Amelia," I looked at her face twisted with jealousy, my voice calm without a ripple, "what kind of delusion do you have that makes you think Benjamin would be interested in you?"
I was too lazy to pretend anymore and directly exposed her little schemes.
She was left speechless by my question, her eyes panicked.
"Is it because you're younger than me?" I stepped forward, closing in on her, my lips curving into a cold arc. "Or because you're better at begging and know how to please men?"
"I didn't!" Like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, she shrieked in protest.
"You didn't?" I laughed lightly, my gaze sweeping over the try-hard dress she was wearing. "Then what are you doing now? Wearing a dress that doesn't belong to you, jumping around in front of me—the actual bride—trying to get my fiancé's attention. Your desperate look is really ugly."
"You... you're talking nonsense!" Amelia's tears welled up in her eyes as she looked to Marlowe for help.
Marlowe immediately went into drama mode, quickly walking over to shield Amelia behind her. She put on an expression of heartbreak, facing me but speaking for the benefit of the staff around Benjamin and me.
"Ophelia, how can you say that about your sister?" Her eyes reddened, her voice taking on a sob. "Amelia had good intentions! She was just worried you'd be nervous experiencing this for the first time. She wanted to help you, to make sure you look beautiful at your engagement. How can you take her kindness as malice and think such vicious thoughts about her?"
As she spoke, she dabbed at the corners of her eyes with a handkerchief, acting with deep emotion. "I know you've always had a prejudice against me because of what happened with your mother, but Amelia is innocent. She's your real sister! How can you be so unreasonable and unable to tolerate her?"
What a performance of a kind mother hurt by an evil daughter.
Her words seemed to defend Amelia, but every sentence was actually slandering me, trying to make everyone think I was mean, jealous, and ungrateful.
Watching her clumsy performance, I only found it laughable.
"Are you done performing?" I looked at her coldly, interrupting her tearful complaint.
Marlowe was caught off guard by my unexpected response, her tears still hanging on her lashes.
"Marlowe, put away your act." I completely lost my patience, my voice cold as ice. "This is a dress boutique, not an audition stage for you and Amelia. Nobody here wants to watch you perform sisterly love or mother-daughter devotion."