Chapter 222
The only dress Lucille had custom–made was the color of flowering blossoms. Hand–stitched scattered diamonds formed clusters of flowering blossoms, each blossom’s center a tiny diamond.
Dazzlingly bright, incredibly beautiful.
“This little gown would be perfect for Thanksgiving.”
The assistant said with a smile.
“Pack it all up.”
Cedrick felt oddly uncomfortable inside.
“Alright.”
As the assistant finished packing, someone entered.
The designer, also the studio owner, Helen Taylor.
“Is Lucille here?”
Helen asked immediately upon entering, not even looking to see who else was present. Then, she spotted Cedrick.
“This is…”
The assistant quickly explained, “Oh, this is Ms. Radford’s husband, here to collect the clothes.”
“Oh.”
Helen nodded and walked straight into the inner room.
Cedrick found it rather baffling.
This Helen was downright rude. He couldn’t fathom why Lucille would order clothes from such an ill–mannered de- signer.
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Putting aside anything else, one look at Helen screamed arrogant bastard – outlandish clothes, outlandish hairstyle.
The assistant smiled. “Mr. Taylor gets completely absorbed in his designs. Sometimes inspiration strikes suddenly, and he dives straight into his studio, afraid to miss a moment.”
Was that meant as an explanation?
Cedrick snorted coldly inside, grabbed his clothes, and walked out.
He’d never order clothes from this place again!
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Chapter 222
He tossed the garments into his car, got in, and prepared to head home.
Right now, only Sophia was at his house.
288 Wauchers
This was Sophia’s fifth day in the household. From feeling awkward and scared at first, she’d gradually settled in, re- maining well–behaved and mindful of boundaries.
Apart from helping with cooking, cleaning, and mealtimes, she rarely came to the living room. She mostly stayed in the servant’s room doing homework or reading.
With Mr. Maynard out and her mother gone to pick up the laundry, she was alone at home.
Still in the servant’s room, she became engrossed in her book until the sound of the door opening startled her.
She thought it was her mother returning and went out to check.
Who Is She?
It was a woman Lucille didn’t recognize.
The moment she entered, the woman cooed sweetly, “Cedrick, Cedrick…”
Maricela hadn’t seen Cedrick for days. After he’d refused two invitations from her and Harlan, she decided to corner him at home.
But instead of Cedrick, she found a skinny girl in the living room.
“Who are you?”
Maricela couldn’t recall any unfamiliar faces around Cedrick. Was she someone from Lucille’s family?
“I’m Sophia. And you are…?” Sophia disliked her instantly, but as a guest here, she forced herself to remain polite.
“Sophia?
Who’s that?
What’s your relation to Cedrick?”
Maricela plopped onto the sofa without ceremony.
“I’m… the housekeeper’s daughter,” Sophia answered politely. “Are you here to see Mr. Maynard?”
“The housekeeper’s daughter?” Maricela mulled it over. “Mrs. Hopkins‘ kid?”
“Yes.”
Sophia nodded.
Then it clicked-—that same Mrs. Hopkins had once cursed at her!
Birds of a feather with Lucille, both vile!
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