Chapter 12

Chris Bailey pulled on Anthony Bailey’s sleeves. “Daddy, Daddy, help Mommy! Someone is bullying

Mommy!” he whined.

With a passive expression, Anthony reached for his phone, searched for a contact, and dialed it. Once

the person answered, he spoke, “Charmine is mine, people.”

In the hall, the person-in-charge looked at his phone dubiously before he looked at Charmine who was

currently held back by the security. He was scared to death with what he had just heard. Goodness…

This woman was Anthony Bailey’s people?

“Stop it. Stop! Don’t hurt this lady here!” he shrieked as though downright fearing for his life.

What just happened?

The securities were befuddled while the crowd went quiet in disbelief. Was she not unwanted? What

changed his mind?

The person-in-charge walked up to Charmine in an instant and bowed to her. “You must be Miss

Jordan. You said you needed one minute, right? Please, take all the time you need,” he sputtered, and

rather respectfully at that. “Here at Chanel, we’ve always strived to be fair and just. If you’re willing to

give it a try, we welcome you wholeheartedly.”

Charmine frowned; his attitude changed at the speed of a reader flipping her book. Who was on the

line of his call?

glued on her. Following her instinct and looking up,

from a

It was Anthony Bailey.

he doing here? Anthony’s lips curled into a grin—that

on

was startled. Why would Anthony help her? The kid was acting

off yesterday, so what was he doing here? Had

fallen for her?

receded, replaced with a frown. Women

chance, but why was Charmine acting all weird

the man trembled in fear as

us to

marched toward the

needed, as of this second, was to

no clue what

dress and her ignorance to compete for this

to eat the meat of a swan. A chance already seemed

people like her. Who was she

the designer did not understand what the person-in-charge

her? It would be a disgrace if

put on with my design. If the panel decides to

Chanel,” the

that said, all the lights

darkness, a light green spotlight

on the stage as she leaned against the

hand supporting her chin. The delicateness of her facial

back languidly, as though she was resting on a summer’s afternoon. Her dark

into a

did not impede her elegance from

of a mystifying fey with an aura of coldness and

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