Chapter 3: The Career in Shambles
The room felt as though the oxygen had been sucked out of it. Evelyn looked from the tag to the grandmother, whose hands, those same hands she had mocked, were the hands that had defined the golden age of fashion.
"You... you’re the Rossi," Evelyn gasped, her breath hitching in her chest.
"I am," the woman said quietly. "And that dress you’re guarding? I designed it forty years ago. It’s not just a product, child. It’s my life’s work."
Evelyn reached out to steady herself against a display case. Her entire career, built on social climbing and the worship of high-end brands, was built on the foundation of the very woman she had just humiliated. She had spent years working in this store, bragging about her expertise in "Rossi-style" craftsmanship, and she had just insulted the master herself.
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The store manager, alerted by the commotion, rushed out from the back office. Seeing the scene—the billionaire bride, the weeping grandmother, and the pale, trembling consultant—he didn't need a summary. He knew the Rossi label. He knew the reputation of the house of L’Etoile de Soie was on the line.
"Evelyn," the manager said, his voice trembling with dread. "Pack your things. Now."
