"The constellations, stars, and galaxies on this gown are all meant to echo the ’Star’ in Estelle’s name. I wonder, what does Miss Claire’s name have to do with stars?"
Jane Winters’ junior was Chase Lockwood, Estelle’s grandfather. Chase had designed the overall concept of the gown, while Jane handled the intricate details. Finally, Chase had brought it to life and gifted it to Estelle.
What on earth did it have to do with Claire Yeats?
Claire clenched her fists, her face pale as she bit her lip hard. She could already imagine how everyone was looking at her!
She was the dignified Miss Yeats! How could she be exposed for wearing a knockoff? How would she ever show her face in public again? Couldn’t Jane just give the Yeats Family some face? What was Estelle even worth? So what if Estelle had worn a fake? But for Claire to be caught in one—the backlash would be disastrous. How could Jane be so tactless?
However, with Jane personally speaking up and having no proof of her own, Claire could only try to minimize the damage. Her expression was exceedingly grim as she forced out, "I see. It seems I’ve been deceived."
In short, she just had to insist that the person who had "gifted" her the dress had tricked her. The esteemed Miss Yeats would never willingly wear a counterfeit—let alone the fact that this gown was actually...
"Miss Yeats, counterfeits are indeed everywhere. Why don’t you go change your dress first? After all, wearing a fake to Ms. Winters’ banquet is rather inappropriate, don’t you think?" Estelle said with a radiant smile.
Claire choked on her words. The crowd murmured among themselves, finding the phrasing oddly familiar.
The housekeeper beside Jane chimed in supportively. "That’s right, Miss Yeats. Buying a counterfeit isn’t your fault. After all, you’re still young and might not be able to tell the difference. It’s understandable that you were tricked.
"But now that you know you’re wearing a fake, you still refuse to admit it and stubbornly try to save face. That’s... sigh, really unnecessary!"
Estelle was speechless. She glanced back and saw the elderly housekeeper wink at her, prompting a knowing smile from her.
A lump formed in Claire’s throat, and she clenched her fists tightly. How could she not hear it? These were the exact words she had used to mock Estelle earlier, now thrown right back in her face!
"Oh, right. Miss Yeats wore a fake herself yet accused Estelle of doing so, spewing so many nasty words. Now that the truth is out," Jane asked sharply, "shouldn’t you apologize?"
Claire gripped her hands into tight fists, her heart filled with resistance as she tried to suppress her ugly expression. She was Miss Yeats! Why on earth should she apologize to such a lowly tramp?!
Even the socialites and noble ladies of Capital City had to give her face because she had the Yeats Family backing her! Who did Jane think she was? Was a mere founder of a luxury brand really going to go head-to-head with a wealthy heiress like her?
"It seems she’s unwilling." Jane was equally unyielding as she looked at her housekeeper. "I dislike those who refuse to admit their mistakes. I didn’t even want to invite Miss Yeats today. Since that’s the case, please ask her to leave."
Claire’s eyes widened in fury. She was being kicked out!?
Asking her to apologize was already unacceptable, but what did Jane just say? She wanted to throw her out?!
"Chairman Winters!" Just then, a young assistant came running over, his face etched with panic. "Young... Young Mr. Yeats is here!"
Jane’s expression shifted. "Who?!"
The assistant swallowed hard. "Quentin Yeats... the Young Master of the Yeats Family."
Jane’s sharp gaze immediately darted toward Claire.
Everyone knew Claire was the most favored of the Yeats Family’s current generation. As the only girl among the younger members, her brothers practically spoiled her to the heavens. Quentin’s arrival in Crestfall hadn’t made the news, meaning he had come in secret. Yet now, he was blowing his cover all for Claire’s sake. The moment Claire suffered a grievance here, Quentin showed up. It was obvious what he was here for!
Jane really didn’t want to let the Yeats in. With them here, Claire’s unreasonableness would suddenly become justified. After all, logic was useless in the face of absolute power. But Quentin was already at the door. If she didn’t let him in... what else could she do?!
With a dark expression, Jane ordered, "Go invite Young Mr. Yeats in." She then squeezed Estelle’s hand. "Don’t worry, Estelle. I won’t let you be bullied today!"
Touched, Estelle shook her head. She had a nagging feeling that Quentin wasn’t here to help Claire.
Across the room, Claire finally smiled when she heard of Quentin’s arrival. Her brother doted on her so much; he would definitely back her up. If word got out that the dignified Miss Yeats had apologized to a lowly woman, how could the Yeats Family ever save face?
Soon, Quentin strode into the hall. The man was tall and slender, his features cold and sharp. He truly lived up to his reputation as the absolute ruler of the Yeats Group and the Young Master of the Yeats Family.
The crowd held their breath as they watched him approach, their gazes shifting to Estelle with undeniable pity. It was clearly Claire who had worn the fake, played the victim, and started trouble. But now that Quentin was here... sigh.
"Quentin!" Claire walked up and affectionately tugged at his arm. "Why are you here?"
Her question was subtle, but what she really meant was, "Are you here to stand up for me?"
Despite the anticipation in Claire’s eyes, Quentin merely glanced at her. He then pulled his arm from her grasp and walked straight toward Jane and Estelle.
Jane’s gaze grew increasingly wary as she stepped in front of Estelle. "Young Mr. Yeats."
Quentin smiled faintly, his demeanor gentle and polite. "Ms. Winters."
Jane clicked her tongue. This Quentin was completely different from Claire. At the very least, he could put on a polite front, unlike Claire, who looked down her nose at everyone as if the words ’I am Miss Yeats’ were stamped on her forehead.
But Jane wouldn’t be fooled by appearances. "Young Mr. Yeats, if you’re here to plead for Claire, save your breath. She made a mistake and must apologize. What she did today was a blatant insult to me, my junior, and Estelle.
"Accusing my design of being a fake at my own banquet, while having the audacity to wear a knockoff to my event—who is disrespecting whom here?"
Jane got straight to the point, deliberately emphasizing the severity of the situation. Claire was furious. She couldn’t understand why Jane was being so stubbornly unyielding.
Quentin, however, just chuckled. "There’s no need to be so tense, Ms. Winters. I’m not here to start a fight. Claire made a mistake, so naturally, she should apologize."
The air fell completely silent. The crowd thought they had misheard.
Wait, what did Quentin just say?! Did he just say Claire should apologize? Wasn’t Quentin the brother who doted on his sister the most? Weren’t the Yeats supposed to fiercely protect their own?
Claire was also stunned. When it finally registered, her face darkened as if she had suffered a monstrous humiliation. Her voice cracked as she lost her composure. "Quentin?! What did you say? You want me to apologize?!"
She was in utter disbelief. Why should she?!
Quentin narrowed his eyes. His smile remained gentle, his tone pleasant. "Claire, do you really think an apology isn’t necessary? Is this how Uncle and Aunt raised you?"