Matthew only nodded, his expression unreadable, his attention still fixed on the stage, lost in his own thoughts.
Backstage, the atmosphere was buzzing with frenzied energy, staff members darting around like bees preparing for a hive, ensuring every detail was in place for the event.
Lindsay, meanwhile, dismissed the servant and proceeded on her own.
Lindsay’s grand entrance earlier with Matthew had left quite the impression, ensuring that many staff members recognized her on sight.
As the launch event loomed closer, the air buzzed with frantic energy, leaving everyone too preoccupied to pay her much mind.
Slipping unnoticed into the dressing room, Lindsay found herself in a whirlwind of nervous models touching up their makeup. Amid the chaos, the section where the dresses were displayed stood eerily vacant, beckoning her with its quiet allure.
Her gaze landed on the breathtaking creations hanging gracefully on their racks, and an ugly pang of jealousy surged within her.
There was no denying it-Stella had an artist’s touch, and each dress was nothing short of a masterpiece.
But so what? Lindsay thought bitterly, her mind spinning with schemes.
If these dresses were ruined, today’s event would unravel into an absolute catastrophe. Stella’s pristine reputation would take a nosedive, and Lindsay could bask in her downfall without lifting so much as a finger.
.. ‘s …
The idea lit a wicked glint in her eyes. Smirking to herself, Lindsay discreetly wheeled herself toward the dresses, her fingers curling around the door handle to lock herself in.
Suddenly, a voice pierced through the quiet like a sharp crack of thunder. “If I were you, I’d think twice before doing something so reckless.”
The voice startled Lindsay into stillness. Her breath hitched as she turned, her blood running cold. There, standing in the doorway, was Stella. Her lips curved into a half-smile, but her sharp eyes betrayed an icy edge.
“Lindsay,” Stella drawled, her tone deceptively casual. “What’s this? Thinking about stealing something?”
Lindsay’s face tightened, her mind scrambling for an excuse.
But Stella wasn’t about to give her a chance. “Oh, wait,” Stella quipped, tilting her head mockingly. “Don’t tell me-you’re here to ‘inspect’ the backstage area?”
Lindsay opened her mouth, but Stella cut her off with an arched brow again. “Or maybe you’re searching for someone? Matthew’s already settled in the audience, by the way. Unless you’ve suddenly made friends with the models, I can’t imagine who else you’d know here.”
Lindsay’s mouth snapped shut, her face burning with the effort to maintain her composure, while Stella leaned nonchalantly against the doorframe, looking every bit the queen surveying her court.
Lindsay abandoned any pretense, lifting her chin with an air of entitlement. “I can go wherever I please. I’m part of the Clark family and have a special relationship with Matthew. Who’s going to stop me?”
A flicker of disgust crossed Stella’s face, but her voice remained icy. “Lindsay, your last name is Wheeler, not Clark. Whether you’re considered part of their family isn’t your decision-it’s Lucia and Waldo’s. And if I tell them about what you’re plotting right now, do you honestly think they’d keep indulging you?”
The arrogance drained from Lindsay’s face, replaced by the dark clouds of a brewing storm.
She recalled the way Lucia and Waldo had leapt to Stella’s defense at the hospital, and unease gnawed at her confidence. No matter how much she wanted to deny it, she wasn’t sure she’d win this round.
Stella stepped forward, her eyes locking with Lindsay’s in a steady, unflinching gaze. “You were planning to destroy my dresses, weren’t you? You know exactly what that would mean. If they’re ruined, this event fails-and along with it, everything I’ve worked so hard to build in the design world.”
Caught red-handed, Lindsay’s bravado faltered. She masked her panic with a scoff, crossing her arms. “Humph, don’t throw around baseless accusations.”