“What is it?” she asked, allowing her hand to rest in his.
With a firmer grasp, Matthew spoke in a voice tinged with gravitas and allure.
“It appears my wife has become quite the busy woman.
Busier than me, even.”
His playful tone amused Stella.
She tiptoed and whispered into Matthew’s ear, “I’m just trying to catch up with you.”
Just as she was about to step back, Matthew’s hand moved to her waist, pulling her closer.
“We’re still in public,” Stella reminded him, noticing Matthew’s unblinking gaze on her.
In a sober tone, Matthew said, “Always remember, there’s only a height difference between us.”
There was never a difference in status.
Stella absorbed the depth of his words, feeling the indescribable warmth flood her heart.
That evening, as Stella was preparing for bed, she received an email from Matthew.
Clicking it open, she found a video attachment.
Her expression turned from confusion to horror as she watched.
The video was of an exhibition, at the heart of which was a dress.
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It was a striking mirror image of her own design after Eloise had asked her for revisions.
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Stella couldn’t believe her eyes. Just as she was about to double- check, her phone buzzed with an incoming call.
Upon recognizing Matthew’s mame on the screen, she answered it hastily.
“Is the information in the video accurate?”
“Yes,” Matthew responded.
“The creator of this design has been deceased for quite some time. This was his final masterpiece.”
Stella’s heart skipped a beat at the revelation.
Matthew went on to explain, “It’s not that Dulce couldn’t hire a top-tier designer. It seems she’s specifically targeting you. From the look of the design sketch, she must’ve known the dress would be a hit. If no one discovers the truth, she’ll gain even more fame with this creation. And if she gets caught, she can feign ignorance. After all, you’re the lead designer.”
Color drained from Stella’s face and her hands grew cold.