Chapter 108: Chapter 108: Acting Cute with Him
"Are you Serena Sinclair?"
A deep, sexy voice, complemented by the alluring red dress, enchanting and captivating.
It makes you recall the gypsy girls in the movies.
The lady in the red dress glances at Serena Sinclair.
Then she looks at Wyatt Hawthorne, her gaze filled with confusion.
It’s as if she knows two Serena Sinclairs.
Serena Sinclair walks from the fitting room to the showroom, her face fully illuminated under the lights.
Flora Morgan stares at her face for a long time, finally identifying her with the person in her memory.
After a quick scan, she smiles faintly, "Indeed, losing weight is the best cosmetic procedure!"
"We... know each other?"
Serena Sinclair finally understands why she asked her that.
The lady in red had seen her as a plump yellow-faced woman before.
Wyatt’s gaze has been on Serena Sinclair since she appeared; now he regains his focus, walks over to Serena Sinclair, and tilts his chin at her, "Flora Morgan, a rising designer from Milan."
Serena Sinclair compliments, "Ms. Morgan, your gown design is really great! The texture is also nice!"
"You know your stuff!"
Flora Morgan snorts coldly, meeting Wyatt’s glance head-on, she glares back and turns to go downstairs, "Hurry up and leave when you’re done trying on, I’m closing!"
"..."
Serena Sinclair turns back to look at Wyatt, "Did you offend her?"
Wyatt’s expression is indifferent, "It’s not necessary."
He seems unwilling to say more.
Serena Sinclair doesn’t press further and turns to look in the mirror.
The mirror in the showroom is bigger than the one in the fitting room, presenting a better overall effect.
If earlier she was the evil queen.
Now, she looks like a queen.
Serena Sinclair can’t recall the last time she wore a dress, but after many years, seeing herself so radiant again feels a bit unfamiliar.
Wyatt leans against the railing, quietly watching her in the mirror.
Serena Sinclair asks, "Do I look good?"
"Of course."
Wyatt approaches, wraps his arm around Serena Sinclair’s waist, "A perfect match!"
Ugh!
Shameless!
Who compliments themselves like this?
Serena Sinclair’s face heats up, she turns to leave.
Wyatt holds her in his arms, "Come on, sis, it’s your turn to compliment me!"
"Handsome, charming, and wealthy... Young Master Hawthorne is the diamond bachelor at the top of Aethelgard’s pyramid..."
Every day, opening a computer or phone, there are economic interviews with him, entertainment gossip about him.
Even the sports channel, which is completely unrelated, has competitions sponsored by the Hawthorne Corporation, subsequently filled with lavish comments from sponsors.
He’s everywhere, and all are praises.
"...do I still need to compliment?"
Serena Sinclair countered.
Wyatt looks unconcerned, "Do I know them? Did I ask them to praise me?"
Serena Sinclair: ...
"Let’s go with this one, I quite like it!"
Since she’s accompanying him for social events, she represents his face, so of course, he should be satisfied.
Serena Sinclair eyebrows inquire.
Wyatt seems unsatisfied, his gaze sweeps around, and he tilts his chin at a water-blue satin gown, "That one..."
"Too... eye-catching?"
"Try it."
The water-blue gown is still perfectly fitted.
Under the brilliant lights, it feels like a handful of lake water draped on her.
Serena Sinclair stares at herself in the mirror, unblinking.
Wyatt is also very satisfied, "Try that champagne color one and that smoky color one..."
Serena Sinclair pauses, seemingly until now realizing, "Are all the gowns on this floor in my size?"
"What else?"
Wyatt retorted.
Serena Sinclair half opens her mouth, stunned.
Her gaze falls on the colorful, varied gowns on the mannequins.
Such bespoke designs, a designer can finish a piece in ten days or half a month would be considered fast.
Even if Wyatt had Flora Morgan start working since his return from Syburg, how long has it been?
No wonder Flora Morgan is so resentful.
If it were her, she probably wouldn’t have a pleasant expression either.
Wyatt showed no signs of boasting, stepped forward, and played with buttons, handing those few gowns he fancied to Serena Sinclair, "Go try them."
"I don’t want to try anymore..."
Serena Sinclair shakes her head, "Isn’t the banquet on Saturday? Tomorrow, the day after, and the day after, there are still a few days, try them slowly."
Wyatt remains unmoved.
Here, every gown was picked by Wyatt from Flora Morgan’s design drafts, made in Serena Sinclair’s size.
He wants to see Serena Sinclair wearing every single piece.
Serena Sinclair acts pitiful, "Aren’t you hungry? Let’s go eat, okay?"
Wyatt hesitates.
Serena Sinclair takes a breath, hugs Wyatt’s waist, and whispers, "I really don’t want to try anymore. Once we’ve eaten and return home, I’ll try them on for you alone, okay?"
"Wyatt..."
Wyatt, who is being pampered, says sweetly.
Wyatt is stunned.
Serena Sinclair is also dumbfounded.
Serena Sinclair never thought, that the child who never begged her mother would one day pamper someone younger than her, Wyatt.
Her shame is overwhelming.
She turns to run, but Wyatt hugs her waist, pulling her back into his arms, "Say it again!"
Not daring to look him in the eye, Serena Sinclair only knows at present, she’s surely like a fully cooked prawn.
Red.
But Wyatt won’t let her go, holds her in his arms, his voice enticing, "Sis..."
"Wyatt, stop fooling around!"
Serena Sinclair finally looks up, her eyes pleading to be spared.
Wyatt smirks, slowly releasing his arms.
It’s okay.
The future is long.
Once there’s a first time, there will surely be a second.
He can wait!
"Alright..."
No longer forcing her, Wyatt turned his head towards the first floor, "Flora Morgan?"
The sound of footsteps clicks.
Flora Morgan returns.
Wyatt pointed a few pieces from afar, "That one, that one, and that one... wrap them up!"
Every dress is hung up after steaming.
If delivered, it’s sent directly to hang into the wardrobe.
Pack?
How to pack?
Flora Morgan stands far at the staircase, arms crossed, "Either give me an address, and I’ll have them sent over, or have someone come to fetch them, packing won’t fit even a bit!!!"
He reports The Serenity Apartments room 2001.
Wyatt turns back, instructing Serena Sinclair to change clothes.
The fitting room door closes.
Flora Morgan looks coldly at Wyatt, still with no pleasant expression, "Wyatt, Clio cares much about you, no one knows better than you. You hit others’ faces, and no one dares to say a word, but finding Serena Sinclair, isn’t it..."
Frightened by Wyatt’s cold face, Flora Morgan’s unfinished words hang in her mouth.
Wyatt raises a cold eye, "Who said I’m with Serena Sinclair to hit her face? She thinks too much of herself!!!"
Flora Morgan’s expression slightly changes.
Wyatt loses all interest.
"No need to deliver anymore!"
Wyatt casually throws the two champagne and smoky dresses he was holding onto the couch, glancing coldly at Flora Morgan, "I chose yours, purely for your brother’s sake, supporting your business. It’s just spending money, wherever isn’t spending."
"Since you said that, isn’t it easier for me to order high luxury?"
"Isn’t it about watching faces slaps? Fine, watch!!!"
Wyatt stands upright, glancing at Flora Morgan’s grim face, instantly changes when hearing the fitting room door opens.
"Wyatt, the black or the water blue, which do you like?"
Serena Sinclair asks Wyatt.
Wyatt goes forward, casually takes the two gowns she’s holding and throws them on the table like trash, "Pick again, neither suits you!"
???
Serena Sinclair keenly senses something happened in the showroom while she was changing clothes.
Serena Sinclair raises her eyes again, directly facing Flora Morgan’s face, as though she suffered a grave humiliation.