Amanda Gordon’s mouth moved several tis, her face visibly ashad and flushed, "Preparing to open."
Mrs. Carter spoke leisurely, "My daughter, though unworthy, is the principal violinist of an internationally renowned orchestra, and I’m too embarrassed to tell anyone."
"But—" Amanda Gordon tried to speak, but Olivia Gray nudged her arm and gave her a glare.
"Mrs. Carter, you’re too modest. Who doesn’t know that everyone in the Carter Family is an industry leader and social elite? We can only admire them. Lily Miller is indeed outstanding, and I’ve always appreciated her."
Olivia Gray’s skill to take advantage of the situation is exceptional.
After praising Mrs. Carter, she imdiately turned to and advised, "Lily, considering how much Mrs. Carter values you, you must seize this opportunity; it’s such a great honor."
I smiled, "Of course, no need for Mrs. Gordon to worry."
Olivia Gray imdiately smiled and waved her hand, "Oh! You silly child... we’re family, why are you calling Mrs. Gordon."
What? Family?
My expression changed with shock, and I opened my mouth to expose directly, "The one who is family with you is my sister, Sophie Miller. Mrs. Gordon, don’t confuse us."
Olivia Gray’s face for a mont looked like she had been publicly slapped, completely awkward.
The banquet soon began, and Mrs. Carter walked onto the stage under everyone’s envious gaze.
Accompanying her was a middle-aged man with a dignified deanor and an elegant temperant, whose features resembled a more mature version of Daniel Carter.
Inwardly, I marveled that this was Daniel Carter’s father, Andrew Carter—a prominent figure frequently seen in the news, holding a high position and possessing great power.
"Wow... what a virtuous couple, I’m so envious!"
"Yes, this is the best portrayal of holding hands and growing old together!"
"With such perfect parental love, Second Master Carter surely is a loyal and responsible good man, a good husband. Who can marry into the Carter Family and beco the Young Madam Carter?"
"Dream on, look at all these socialites here; everyone wants that, they’re all fighting tooth and nail!"
While I listened to Old Master Carter’s gratitude speech on stage and expressed love for Old Madam Carter, I also heard various gossip and countless unrequited loves around , feeling quite sentintal.
In my view, the Carter Family’s grandeur is one thing, and Daniel Carter’s personal charm is another.
Getting even one of the two is already an imnse honor.
And now, just being noticed by Daniel Carter ans getting both, which must be the blessing of several lifetis.
"Are you Lily Miller? I heard Second Master Carter takes good care of you, but why? Your face is indeed beautiful, but who knows if it’s natural or costic surgery? The Carter Family isn’t that superficial, so don’t dream too big."
While I was engrossed watching the stage, a harsh voice suddenly reached my ears.
I turned my head and saw several young ladies dressed extravagantly and with exquisite makeup glaring at with animosity.
I recognized one of them; we had t once at the Gordon Family, she’s Amanda Gordon’s close friend.
It seems Amanda Gordon was dissatisfied earlier and now mobilized her friends to attack .
Evidently, she wouldn’t rest until she embarrassed today, making lose face in front of everyone, and causing Mrs. Carter to dislike .
Perhaps Amanda Gordon also admires Daniel Carter secretly, seeing as a rival.
"You’re quite pretty too, just a sha for those eyes that can’t distinguish between a natural face and surgery. Aren’t you afraid your friends will laugh at you if you talk about it?" I assessed the speaking girl, responding lightly.
"How can you talk like that? You’re the blind one!"
"My eyesight is great, great enough to see at a glance that the dress you’re wearing is a counterfeit."
At this mont, Old Madam Carter’s speech concluded, and guests applauded enthusiastically.
I also turned to the stage, enthusiastically clapping my hands.
But the young lady wasn’t happy, she looked down at her evening gown, murmuring to herself, "A counterfeit? How can it be? I spent a lot of money having soone purchase it."
Her friends beside her also stared at her, equally shocked, "Bella, could you have been cheated?"
"No way! I’ve always gotten clothes from that owner, her connections are wide; she can get many haute couture and celebrity styles." After she finished speaking, she looked up and questioned unceremoniously, "What makes you say that? You want to embarrass , right? I think what you’re wearing is the counterfeit—no, it’s not even a counterfeit, it’s not a brand at all!"
I smiled faintly, not wanting to argue with her, and directly took out my phone to open the album, took a while to find, then turned the phone facing her: "This is the original—photographed on the show. Look closely, the color is different, and even the patterns are different. The patterns on the genuine original are entirely hand-embroidered; I had an intangible cultural heritage embroiderer work for a month. As for the one you’re wearing—it’s either machine-stitched or casually stitched by a trainee."
"What? What does she an? Could she be the designer of this dress?"
"No way! This dress won an international award."
"Are you referring to this award?" I retrieved the phone, slid to the next photo, and turned it back to her.
The photo showed holding a certificate and a trophy, posing with a model wearing the dress at the show.
The onlookers appeared even more astonished, their gazes at clearly changed.
"It seems it really is her!"
"I heard she owns a clothing company and even has a haute couture brand under her na."
"No, that’s not possible, photos can be altered too, who can prove it’s real?"
"Exactly! Nowadays, synthesized photos can pass as real."
Seeing their stubbornness, I shook my head with a helpless smile, put away my phone, and said calmly, "The one you’re wearing is indeed fake, the real one is in my studio. I collect all my award-winning pieces—it’s only lent to close friends. If you don’t believe it, then I didn’t say anything."
"I believe it!" A voice suddenly ca from outside the crowd, and everyone turned back in unison, and then their expressions changed slightly, they instinctively opened a path.
I saw the girl walking towards , grinning with delight, "lissa, why are you here? Such a coincidence, we et again."
As soon as I spoke, soone beside reminded, "You’re so rude, this is the Carter Family’s little princess, and you’re addressing her by na!"
What? Carter Family’s little princess?
I was surprised, and my mind was briefly unresponsive, staring at the approaching lissa Chandler, "You—"
"Ms. Miller, just call lissa, none of that young lady or little princess stuff; it doesn’t sound good at all."
After lissa Chandler approached, she took my arm and looked at the girl opposite, speaking proudly and candidly, "Bella Wagner, you’re wearing a dress she designed, yet you don’t even recognize the designer herself, are you here to joke around?"
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