When Amelia arrived, Isabel was having afternoon tea in the living room with her friends. The air smelled like expensive candles and hot tea. Several well-dressed women were chatting and laughing.
But one familiar face made Amelia’s heart sink.
Emma?
Emma Gray was Hannah’s cousin.
When she saw Amelia, her eyes flashed with clear, open disdain.
Amelia frowned slightly. Today was not going to be easy.
“Hi, Ms. Harlow, please come in,” Isabel said warmly. She hurried over to take the gown. “I’ve been waiting forever. Let me try it on!”
Isabel slipped into the gown, and it fit her perfectly. The detailed embroidery shimmered softly under the lights.
She twirled in front of the mirror, amazed.
But Emma stepped forward, pretending to casually examine the gown. Then she reached out with her manicured fingers and tugged at a tiny, nearly invisible thread hidden in a side seam.
“Oh? What’s this?” she said loudly. “A flaw? You didn’t even trim the loose threads? Ms. Harlow, are you getting careless now that your business is doing well?”
Isabel had ordered several gowns from Amelia before and had always been happy with her work. But after hearing Emma’s comment, Isabel’s smile faded. Her brows tightened, and she even looked a little displeased.
Amelia saw the proud look on Emma’s face and understood everything at once.
She stepped forward and explained gently, “Ms. Dalman, please don’t get the wrong idea. This loose thread is something we leave on purpose. It helps in case you need the gown taken in or let out in the future. It makes the adjustment easier, and it protects the fabric, so the gown still looks perfect.”
It was a quiet standard in high-end custom work. It showed care.
But Emma clearly wasn’t planning to let her off that easily.
She let out a mocking laugh. “Anyone can make up excuses. This is just sloppy work. I
No Sex for Six Years Because of Her? I’m Done!already told you – not to order from some tiny studio no one has heard of. The quality is all over the place, and still so expensive. With your status, you think you can’t buy good clothes? There are tons of big luxury brands waiting for you.”
“I just like this style,” Isabel argued, though her face was much colder now.
When it came time to pay the final balance, Amelia took a breath and said, “Ms. Dalman, I’m sorry, but our studio account has an issue. Would it be okay to pay in cash, or can I send you another account number to transfer to?”
Isabel was about to agree, but Emma leaned over and whispered something in her ear.
Amelia saw Isabel’s expression shift.
“Alright,” Isabel said finally. “Send me the new account, and I’ll transfer it.”
Amelia felt something was off, but she still sent Amanda’s bank number.
But half an hour after she left the Dalman Residence, her phone buzzed.
It was a bank alert. The payment had gone into her old account – the one that was frozen.
Then Isabel’s message appeared. The tone was polite, but the words were cold. “Ms. Harlow, I’m so sorry. My friend says her style changed recently, so the gown she planned to order – I won’t need it anymore. Maybe next time.”
The color drained from Amelia’s face.
She was almost sure Emma had whispered to Isabel that Amelia and Ethan had fought and that all her bank cards had been frozen.
News spread fast in high society.
Everyone knew who was in favor and who had fallen out of it.
For the next few hours, Amelia delivered the remaining gowns one by one. But every result was the same.
No matter how she explained, no one was willing to transfer the payment to the new account.
Every single person sent the money straight to the frozen, useless account.
Amelia felt defeated.
On the way back to the studio, she pulled over by the empty riverside.
Her dashboard was flashing the low-fuel warning.
And when she checked her wallet, she found she had less than 100 dollars on her.
She stepped out of the car. The cold wind off the river brushed her face and cleared her thoughts a little.
Looking at the water, she felt doubt for the first time.
Is apologizing to Ethan really the only way out?
No.
The thought appeared for a split second before she crushed it.
Then, suddenly, something she had forgotten popped into her mind.
To make things easy months ago, she had prepaid a full year of rent for her new studio location.
If she talked to the landlord … if he agreed to refund the last three quarters and switch to paying every three months instead …
She could free up a few hundred thousand dollars. It would be enough to save the studio.
Amelia immediately pulled out her phone and messaged her landlord. “Hi, could you send me your phone number? I have something urgent to discuss with you.”
A set of numbers appeared almost instantly.
Amelia felt a wave of relief and dialed right away.
The call connected. A voice came through the speaker.
“Hello?”
A low, slightly rough male voice – warm and smooth like aged whiskey.
Amelia froze, holding the phone.
Why did that voice feel strangely familiar?
Then she gave herself a silent, bitter laugh.
After all these years, she was still this hopeless.
Every time she was alone and drowning, she always imagined that person again.
She forced herself to breathe, pushed away the unrealistic thought, and spoke as steadily and politely as she could.
“Hi, I’m the tenant who rented your villa a few days ago. I’m having an emergency. My studio is having a cash-flow problem. I wanted to ask … would it be possible to change the year-long rent I paid upfront into quarterly payments instead?”
“Don’t worry,” Amelia said. “We can sign a new contract. I promise I won’t miss any rent payments. As soon as my cash flow comes back, I’ll pay the rest right away.”
By the time she finished speaking, her palms were damp with sweat. She waited quietly for his answer, bracing herself for rejection.
But on the other end of the line, the man stayed silent for a long time.
Amelia could almost already see it – the same rejection she had heard again and again today. After all, who would want a tenant who asked for trouble on the very first call?
Just when she thought all hope was gone, that low, slightly rough voice sounded again, lazy and hard to read. “No problem.”
Amelia froze. She almost thought she misheard.
The man didn’t care about her shock. He simply continued, slow and calm, “But I have
No Sex for Six Years Because of Her? I’m Done!one condition.”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.