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1434 Words
Generally speaking, he wouldn't take her out. Vincent had just twice met Stella. The first instance occurred when Clarence neglected to carry his paperwork. Stella brought it to work since she thought it would interfere with his work. When the submissive woman looked directly into Clarence's icy eyes, a hint of disappointment flickered across her features. She appeared compliant and understanding, though, and made no complaints. Another occasion was during the celebration of the elderly Conrad family member Dempsey Conrad's birthday, which coincided with the couple's second wedding anniversary. She was not well received by the Conrad family members, and nobody presented her to the visitors. Stella had the appearance of an unpaid housekeeper employed by the Conrad family that evening. Despite her intense focus on her work, she received nothing but disdainful looks and was perceived as a nuisance. Following that, she continued to remain in the corner and, in response to those derisive comments, she lowered her head silently and moved away from them. Vincent believed that Clarence's wife was a docile and tolerant married lady who gave in to coercion and refused to stand up for herself when she was beaten or reprimanded. That would most definitely not be the aggressive woman who appeared ready to chop someone to pieces tonight. Without saying anything, Clarence continued to stare at the location where Stella had disappeared. Coughing and straying, Vincent said, "I met Stanford Leif at the entrance just now." Clarence enquired, "Who?" "He is the chief editor of the SG Jewelry Magazine." "I kind of recall something." Clarence had met the chief editor of SG Jewelry on a few occasions, and the Conrads had previously worked together. "Stanford told me he's found Sharon, and if everything goes right, she'll become the designer of their magazine," Vincent sighed. “Do you think you still recall Miss Sharon?” No. Why should he recall someone who held no significance for him? "I guess you would at least remember supporting the seventh emerging designer competition three years ago," Vincent remarked. Back then, Sharon emerged victorious in the competition. She originally had the opportunity to be funded by the Conrad family and pursue further education in Paris, but she turned it down for an unknown reason. "However, I've heard that she once approached the competition organizer to inquire about receiving cash rather than funding for her study abroad trip. You turned down the request from the person in charge, and we haven't heard from her again. What a shame, because she was a really talented designer." Clarence took a moment to look back. It was difficult to discern his thoughts and whether or not he had paid attention to what he had said. "Is that accurate? I don't remember." Stanford could tell that Stella was in a much worse mood than she had been during their meal as he drove them back home. Unable to address her directly, he cast a sidelong glance and arched an eyebrow at Sherry. Sherry merely gave a slight shake of her head, appearing unable to fully articulate the circumstances. Downstairs, the car was parked. Stanford said, "Miss Radomil, I look forward to your work, and also our collaboration." Stella had quieted down in the interim. She nodded, her mind returning to normal. I'm grateful, Mr. Reid. I'll give it my all." Stanford grinned. "Then I'll not waste your time any further, get inside, we'll see each other next week." Sherry said, "Stella, are you still mad about those two?" when she got home. Stella cried out, slightly forgetting what she was saying. It took her two seconds to respond. "No, l'm thinking about the design." Stanford assigned her the topic of "first love". According to Sherry, after hiring a designer, they proposed that series initially, with young people as their primary target market. For this reason, they placed a lot of importance on this design. However, Stella felt that the term "first love" was too far away and had already become hazy. During her three years of marriage to Clarence, the kind of excitement that came only when she was with her beloved had already evaporated, leaving her with nothing. Sherry replied, "Speaking of this, I want to ask you, have you not stayed in contact with Horace Jason anymore?" Stella gently shook her head. Three years prior, she had taken first place in the emerging designer competition. She was first offered the opportunity to study abroad in Paris, but she turned it down. Horace had visited her a few times and inquired as to why she wouldn't go. His expression was one of bewilderment, loneliness, and disappointment. She had erased all of his contact information, but she still lacked the guts to tell him the truth. How could she respond? Could she possibly tell him that the night she learned that Jeffrey Radomil owed one million dollars in debt, she was filled with excitement after winning the competition? Up until this point, she was still unable to get over the terrifying and upsetting news. Sherry sighed and leaned back in the couch. "Even now, I continue to feel sorry for you and Horace. Back in school, you two were an ideal couple, and everyone could tell that you liked one another. The only thing missing was that you two didn't come out as a couple. We had assumed that you two would be together after your trip to Paris, but who knows? That is really unjust.” Stella remained silent for a while before saying, "That's already the past. Hey, let's stop talking about this unpleasant thing. Oh, I just remembered a rumor from Vivian Sean.” Apparently, when she first started working in the field, she went to shoot for a magazine, and it turned out that she had no idea what a light supplement lamp was. After Sherry made her laugh with a couple of jokes, she gave Clarence and Vivian a passionate tirade for the entire evening. Even so, Stella could not shake the memory of what Vivian had said to her in the restroom as she lay there on the bed. Clarence intended to say the same thing, even though he would never use such obscene language. Stella had tried her hardest to be a good wife during their three years of marriage because she knew she had held Clarence back. She would never complain about the cruel things he said to her or the jokes the Conrad family made of her. She was also aware of his hatred for her. Even so, she would continue to experience agony when reality felt like a poisoned knife piercing her. Breathing itself was agony. Head buried in the blanket, Stella did so. When she was awake and dreaming, she recalled something. Three years prior, she had learned that Jeffrey owed a substantial debt of one million dollars. She had even descended to ask the competition organizer if she could forfeit her spot to pursue her studies in Paris in exchange for cash. She could still recall what the supervisor had said to her up until this point. "I apologize, Miss Sharon. Our manager stated that the opportunity to design is for those who genuinely have the desire to do so, not for those who view the competition as a means of generating income and other advantages." For a long while, Stella was shocked to hear that. She went home and spent the entire night crying and berating that so-called boss. Who wouldn't want to dream of something pure? After a few days, Jeffrey fled. When the argument reached her home, she was given the option of either chopping off one of her brother's hands or taking the initiative to go with them. Stella was left with no option but to leave the house with them, not even listening to Channing Radial's heartbroken sobs. Those people had sold her to the Twilight Club, an establishment that catered to the wealthy and offered them women, alcohol, and leisure. Their wine had been tampered with. When the plump middle-aged man in his forties or fifties entered, she thought of Horace and the promise she had made to go to Paris, even though she had already come to terms with her fate. Unaware of her source of strength, she shoved the middle-aged man aside and staggered out. She had been pursued from behind by someone. She finally noticed a powerful but hazy figure at the front, but she had no idea how far she had run. She dropped to the floor and grabbed his expensive suit sleeve. "Please, save me..."
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