Stephen smirked, his confidence growing. Hah, they actually had the nerve to call in an appraiser themselves. Sure, Spencer might have some connection with Mr. Jackson, but there was no way Mr. Jackson would lie. These two were walking straight into their own downfall. And if word spread that Arthur had been fraudulently using Mr. Ivan’s signature design, that would be a whole new issue. Heh, when that happens, there will be plenty of people ready to take him down—I won’t have to do a thing. Zane glanced at his sons with approval. Now that’s how you do it. Stay sharp, seize the moment, and use every advantage available. The mention of clothing reignited the crowd’s excitement. They might not be experts in gemstones, but when it came to fashion, they certainly had opinions. Mr. Ivan wasn’t just any designer—he was one of the most renowned in the country. His pieces were legendary, not just because of their craftsmanship but because they were so rare. It was said he only created a handful of designs each year, choosing to live in seclusion and staying indifferent to wealth and power. Whether or not Mr. Ivan designed for someone wasn’t just about status or wealth—it depended on whether a person felt right to him. It was an instinctive, unpredictable decision that couldn’t be forced. Even the powerful Yarbrough family had never been fortunate enough to own one of his creations. If even they couldn’t get their hands on his work, then how could Arthur—someone they believed to be a fraud—possibly have a genuine piece? Just then, someone in the crowd gasped. “Wait a second! Look at Ashley’s wedding dress—isn’t that Mr. Ivan’s mugwort emblem too?” The moment the words were spoken, all eyes turned to Ashley’s gown. And what they saw left them completely stunned. Right at the collar of her wedding dress, embroidered with stunning precision, was a delicate mugwort leaf—Mr. Ivan’s unmistakable signature. “Oh my God! It’s not just Arthur’s tuxedo—Ashley’s wedding dress has Mr. Ivan’s emblem too!” “Does that mean Ashley is also wearing a fake?” “No way! The Gibson family is one of the most prestigious families in Seacity. There’s no way they’d wear counterfeits on such an important day.” “Unless… Arthur tricked her?” “Could be. Maybe Arthur prepared the wedding dress himself, and Ashley didn’t realize it before wearing it.” Earlier, everyone had been so focused on Arthur that they hadn’t even noticed Ashley’s dress. Now, suddenly, she was at the center of attention. Seeing Ashley become the center of everyone's scrutiny, Arthur subtly stepped forward, positioning himself in front of her to block their prying eyes. Spencer and Nancy caught the gesture, exchanging a knowing glance. A flicker of warmth flashed in their eyes. It was a simple act, but it spoke volumes. Arthur could face public scrutiny without hesitation, but he couldn’t bear to let Ashley be subjected to criticism. With Arthur’s unwavering protectiveness, Spencer and Nancy felt completely at ease. They knew there was nothing to worry about when they saw Ashley with him. Zane could barely contain his satisfaction, though he kept up a facade of generosity. With a smug yet composed tone, he said, “Arthur, there’s still time to apologize. Do it now, and you might save yourself some humiliation. Otherwise, once Mr. Jackson arrives, things will get ugly.” “That’s right, Arthur,” Maris added, his tone dripping with condescension. “You might not be familiar with how things work here, but Mr. Jackson is the most impartial appraiser in all of Seacity. Even if the Gibson family has some connections with him, he would never bend the truth.” “You should apologize now and spare yourself the embarrassment later,” Stephen chimed in, feigning concern as he effortlessly mirrored Zane’s hypocrisy. Arthur remained indifferent, casting them a glance before responding calmly, “Why are you all getting ahead of yourselves? Once Mr. Jackson arrives, we’ll have our answer. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re the one feeling guilty.” “You!” They were instantly furious.Arthur had a knack for pushing them to the brink with just a few words. Scowling, they sneered, “Insolent fool!” After throwing out their final remark, they fell into an uncharacteristic silence. Whether it was lingering frustration or a hint of unease, none of them dared to say another word. Instead, they stood stiffly, waiting in tense anticipation. Luckily, they didn’t have to wait long. Before long, Mr. Jackson arrived. The moment he stepped in, Zane hurried forward, eager to make an impression. With a bright smile, he greeted him warmly, “Mr. Jackson, we really appreciate you taking the time to come.” Jackson was a lean man in his early thirties, with sharp eyes and an air of authority. He barely acknowledged Zane, only offering him a fleeting glance before shifting his attention elsewhere. His eyes swept across the room, looking for Spencer. After all, it was Spencer who had called him here, not Zane. As his gaze swept across the venue, it landed on a familiar figure standing tall and unwavering at the front. Spencer. As always, he exuded an air of power and confidence, his very presence commanding attention. Spencer gave him a polite nod and gestured toward the platform. “Mr. Jackson, this way.” Jackson gave a slight nod and a faint smile. Though they hadn’t seen each other in a while, their exchange carried the ease of longtime acquaintances.