Liza carefully examined the gowns laid out before her. To the untrained eye, they might seem flawless, but she immediately spotted their flaws. After all, she was no ordinary person—she was Ruby Co, a designer with an unparalleled eye for detail. The issues in the designs stood out like glaring red flags. Alora had presented herself as warm and accommodating, but her true intentions were far from friendly. The fabric of haute couture was supposed to balance beauty and comfort. However, these gowns fell drastically short. The materials used were flashy yet cheap, and anyone wearing them would find them uncomfortable. One gown, for instance, had a strikingly heavy structure but was constructed with an inferior layer of fabric at the waist. It wouldn’t take much for it to rip apart in the middle of an event, leaving the wearer humiliated. Another gown had the opposite problem—it featured multiple layers of fabric around the waist, making it stiff and overly bulky. The excessive fabric clashed with the feather-light skirt, creating an unbalanced look that would make anyone appear awkward and much heavier than they were. Liza couldn’t help but smirk inwardly. Alora’s designs were riddled with amateur mistakes, something entirely uncharacteristic of her reputation. Alora was an award-winning designer, someone who had earned accolades for her craft. These gowns, however, didn’t reflect that level of skill. It was clear that these weren’t mistakes born from inexperience—they were deliberate. Alora’s intention was obvious: she wanted Liza to embarrass herself at any public event she attended with Gavin. As Alora observed Liza’s silence, her expression shifted to one of feigned disappointment. A smile curled faintly at the edges of her lips as she broke the silence. “Liza, you don’t like the gowns?” To an outsider, it might seem as though Alora had gone above and beyond. Designing 16 gowns in such a short time and personally delivering them to Longwan Residential appeared to be a gesture filled with sincerity. If Liza rejected her efforts, it would seem rude or ungrateful. Alora’s tone turned apologetic. “It’s alright if they’re not to your liking. I can adjust them or even start over. Let me know your preferences, and I’ll redesign them for you.” Inwardly, Alora sneered. She didn’t believe Liza had the expertise to critique her work. To her, Liza was nothing more than a clueless country girl who wouldn’t know the first thing about haute couture. Still, Liza remained quiet, her expression unreadable. Sighing dramatically, Alora pressed on. “It seems Liza doesn’t appreciate these designs. I’ll go back and create a few more for you…” Before she could finish, her assistant, chimed in indignantly. “Sister Alora worked tirelessly every night to complete these 16 gowns for you! If she has to make more, she’ll wear herself out. Even if you’re Mrs. Stone, isn’t this asking too much?” Alora turned toward her assistant, putting on a gracious act. “ don’t say such things. It’s not easy being a designer, but we must always respect our clients’ wishes. Customers are like gods to us, after all.” She then shifted her focus back to Liza, her tone syrupy sweet. “Liza, don’t mind her. She’s just straightforward like that. If you have any suggestions or ideas, please share them with me. I’ll make whatever changes you want and get started on new designs immediately.” Liza’s lips twitched slightly as she fought the urge to laugh, she was amused by the charade playing out before her. Alora, do you really think I can’t see through your act? Alora pulled a notebook from her bag, her face lighting up with a practiced smile. “Liza, Gavin asked me to prioritize designing clothes for you over everything else. I can’t help but feel a little envious. Your life as a wealthy madam must be so glamorous and carefree!” Switching to English, she began conversing fluently with her assistant, exuding an air of sophistication and professionalism. Her demeanor suggested she was a capable, accomplished woman. Sighing theatrically, she turned back to Liza. “My life is quite different. I’m constantly occupied with designing and running the studio. Managing a business is no easy feat. My dream is to someday live a life like yours—finding a man to lean on, someone as successful as Gavin.” Alora’s tone turned lighter, but her words carried a sharp undercurrent. “Liza, now that you’re married to Gavin, you must have so much free time. No work, just spa days, and afternoon teas. You must lead such a relaxed life. Why don’t you share your ideas with me if you have any? We could collaborate!” Liza’s expression remained composed, but inwardly, she was unimpressed. Anyone else might have missed the subtle barbs in Alora’s words, but Liza was under no illusions. The so-called compliments dripped with sarcasm. So, this is how she chooses to provoke me? Liza thought. Alora’s not-so-subtle insinuation that Liza was nothing more than a pampered housewife was a blatant attempt to undermine her. George, ever observant, picked up on the tension in the room. It seemed Alora was attempting to belittle the young madam. Before Liza could respond, George stepped forward, his voice calm but firm. “Miss Alora, our young madam has a packed schedule and may not be able to contact you personally. If you have any questions or suggestions, you can relay them to me. I’ll ensure the message reaches her.” Alora’s assistant, couldn’t resist adding her own commentary. “What could she possibly be busy with? Playing cards? Sipping tea? Shopping? Unlike our Sister Alora, who works tirelessly designing clothes every day—” “that’s enough!” Alora cut her off abruptly, her voice tinged with faux concern. She quickly turned back to Liza, feigning sincerity. “Liza, if there’s anything—” But George interjected smoothly, “Our young madam is preparing to serve as a judge for the International Real-Time Translation Competition. She’s also tasked with drafting the competition’s topics and designing attire for global leaders attending diplomatic events.”Alora’s smile faltered, the forced cheer in her expression beginning to crack. Meanwhile, Liza remained silent, her composed demeanor unwavering, though the slight curve of her lips suggested she wasn’t entirely indifferent to the subtle blow dealt by George’s words. The room grew quiet as the unspoken message hung heavily in the air. This isn’t the idle, spoiled woman you thought she was, Alora.