Chapter 172
Bailey gently stroked the dog's fur, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
"What are you thinking right now? Of course, it's all about the fertilizer I use. A sprinkle of compost tea every now and then, and you wouldn't believe the growth.
Ms. Simpson, your last name is Simpson, not Garcia. That's where you fall short compared to Sylvia. She's got things figured out way clearer than you. When the day comes that you actually secure your place as Mrs. Garcia, then you can come talk smack." With that, Bailey didn't even spare Bridget a second glance before walking away.
Bridget, unable to swallow the insult, turned to seek solace from Rupert.
But Rupert had already left. All she could do was flash a strained smile at the camera, trying to maintain her diva image as she hurried after Rupert's steps. "Rupert, I..."
"I have no time for pointless excuses. You knew what was at stake when you chose the camellia theme for your jewelry line," Rupert said coldly.
"But you could have reminded me," Bridget stumbled over her words, even blaming Rupert.
Rupert looked at her, his deep, lake-like eyes narrowing, his gaze as cold as ice.
"Jeopardizing my partnership with Bailey, and the investments in the Simpson Group will lead me to pull out all my investments."
"No! You can't do this to me! You promised you'd help me."
Bridget pleaded, grabbing his arm.
Expressionless, Rupert pulled his arm away, his voice icy. "Then stay in your lane. You're running out of chances."
With those final words, he turned and walked away.
Bridget felt the chill from Rupert's demeanor deep in her bones, shivering uncontrollably.
At the same time, Bridget caught a glimpse of Bailey still chatting with someone else, holding her dog. Though she couldn't hear their conversation, she could clearly make out a name on Bailey's lips. Sylvia!
Unable to hold back any longer, Bridget rushed into the restroom, her phone buzzing non-stop in her handbag.
Opening it, she saw nothing but mockery about her necklace being a mere dog leash.
[Where are Bridget's fans now? Lost their sense of humor?]
[The jewelry competition made it clear her entire collection was disjointed, especially the ring-flashy but meaningless.] [Bridget's fans love to bark at everyone. Now I get it - with such an expensive dog leash, it's definitely worth the barks.]
What should have been her moment of universal acclaim turned into ridicule.
Bridget's eyes blazed with fury as she hurled her phone at the mirror.
Crash the mirror shattered into pieces.
It was all Sylvia's fault! She knew that, without Sylvia's interference wheth was Rupert or a life of
luxury, it all would have been hers!
Where had it all gone wrong?
The more Bridget thought about it, the angrier she became, her stomach churning with rage.
After vomiting, she rinsed her mouth. Hearing footsteps outside, she quickly grabbed her phone and left the restroom.
...
Outside the banquet hall, the dim corridor lights cast a long shadow of a tall, lean figure.
A cigarette was perched on his lips, but he seemed to be missing a lighter.
That's when Bailey stepped in, offering a light.
"You really don't hold back, spending money to teach someone a lesson through my hands while still staying under the radar." "Not at all."
The man lit his cigarette, his deep eyes unfathomable.
Bailey lit her own cigarette, clicking her tongue. "Stubborn men only end up with regrets."
...
Sylvia watched everything unfold on the live stream, feeling utterly satisfied.
Rupert wanted her to witness Bridget's triumph, but it turned into a farce instead.
Now, she was itching to find a place to laugh out loud.
Thinking this, she prepared to leave, not wanting the shop attendants to see her lose her composure.
Just then, she overheard two assistants talking nearby.
"I always thought Bridget was
impressive, but turns out she's nothing special. What does Rupert ever see in her? It's infuriating!"
"See in her? Doubtful. That dress she wore might be expensive, but it
doesn't hold a candle to the online?
Rupert had custom-made here for a tenth of the price."
Hearing this, Sylvia's steps halted.
Rupert had a dress custom-made here? And it was a private commission?
But in her memory, Bridget had never worn a dress from this brand.
So, who did Rupert commission the dress for?
Could he have another woman?
Sylvia gasped, realizing that if she could uncover this, it might be the leverage she needed. Then he couldn't coerce her anymore.