Chapter 10

Eyra’s POV

“Do you see? This dress fits me perfectly,” said Elara as she twirled around. However, perhaps because she stepped on something, the dress—which had initially looked perfectly proportioned on her—no longer seemed to fit.

One of her shoulders slipped down, nearly exposing half of her breast.

Some staff members turned around, while others rushed toward Elara and, together with her assistant, set about fixing the dress she was wearing.

Several jewels had come loose and were scattered on the floor, so other staff members were busy picking them up.

“What are we going to do? The dress is ruined and the jewels are scattered everywhere. Mr. Wynter is going to be furious,” muttered another, her face pale.

“We’ll check the dress first and try to fix it; if that doesn’t work, then we’ll contact the specialists to repair it,” the store manager said, then walked over to Elara and examined the side of the dress, furrowing her brow.

“Does this dress fit you perfectly, or did someone make any alterations?” asked the manager.

Elara lifted her face and glared at her. “What do you mean? Of course this dress fits my body perfectly. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with adding a little touch to make it fit better.”

Amid the commotion, a man in a neat suit walked in and managed to capture the attention of everyone in the room—including me.

“Mr. Wyn–” My words trailed off when I saw him shake his head, then calmly walked toward the group of employees who were adjusting the dress still draped over Elara’s body.

I didn’t know why Mr. Wynter was asking me to not saying anything. Was it because he wanted to check whether his employees were doing their jobs properly, or perhaps he already knew there had been a commotion in the store?

“Good afternoon, sir? Is there anything we can help you with?” asked one of the employees. “Would you like to buy a dress or a suit?”

“I want a special dress—one that’s the only one of its kind in the world,” replied Mr. Wynter, then looked toward Elara, who was wearing the dress I had designed. He pointed at her. “I want that.”

Elara, who was standing there, was taken aback. Her eyes widened, a faint smile playing on her beautiful face, accentuated by bold makeup.

She pushed the other employee aside with both hands, and Mr. Wynter slowly stepped toward her. He stared at Elara for quite a while—from head to toe.

“Why force yourself into a dress that doesn’t fit you?” he remarked.

Elara froze as Mr. Wynter’s hand gripped her waist, then pulled on the remaining right and left sides of the dress.

“This clearly isn’t your size.”

“Are you blind? This dress wasn’t sewn properly, so it’s ruined,” Elara replied.

“How about I prove you’re wrong?”

“What do you mean?”

Mr. Wynter turned his head, then walked toward me. He held out his hand, which I immediately took, so he could guide me closer to Elara.

“How about this young lady tries on the dress?” he said.

I waved my hand. “Uhm, it’s fine, Mr. Wynter. I can pick out another dress. Besides, tonight is just dinner with the pack council. So—”

He turned and looked at me, his brow furrowed. “You’re going to the dinner?” I nodded. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I could have picked out another dress that’s more suit you.”

“I didn’t want to trouble you, Mr. Wynter.”

“Mr. Wynter?” Elara interjected. “You mean, North Wynter? The Lycan King and the owner of that mega-business in Manhattan that’s even expanded worldwide? Him?” She asked, pointed at Mr Wynter.

The Lycan King? So he’s not an alpha-wolf?

Mr. Wynter didn’t answer Elara’s question. Only his gaze—which had been gentle toward me—shifted to Elara and turned sharp.

Elara burst out laughing, startling both me and the staff present.

“See? None of you can answer. You really are good at lying, Eyra. You’re a master at bragging,” she said as she walked slowly toward me, then grabbed my jaw. “Does Dave know you came here? And… that’s the man you had lunch with, right? Well, well… it seems yesterday’s news didn’t deter you.”

“The man from yesterday was just doing business with me. Only narrow-minded people would see it in a negative light.”

“Then what about this man?” She nodded toward Mr. Wynter. “Is he the same man? Or...”

“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” I replied. “Besides, I don’t have much time. You can take off that dress because I’d like to try it on, too.”

Elara glanced briefly at Mr. Wynter, then at me, and quickly shifted her gaze to the dress she was wearing.

“What if I refuse? I like this dress. With a few alterations, it’ll fit me perfectly. Because this dress was made for me.”

“Ahem, excuse me, Miss. That dress is made of Duchess satin with hand-sewn Swarovski crystals—crafted with a special construction that doesn’t allow for size adjustments without altering the pattern and damaging the arrangement of the embellishments,” Mr. Wynter interjected.

“Excuse me, how do you know such details? Our boss didn’t even give us any information,” said the store manager.

Mr. Wynter smiled faintly. “I just know.” He then turned to me. “Go ahead. It’s your turn now.”

Elara pouted, then stomped her foot and returned to the fitting room with the manager and a few employees. Mr. Wynter motioned for me to follow the others.

I put on the dress carefully. I didn’t want any part of it to get damaged again because it would surely be difficult to repair and very expensive. And after one of the employees helped me with the zipper, the large mirror in front of me reflected my image in the dress I’d once only dreamed of wearing.

Mr. Wynter was right. This dress...

A sound made me turn around. The store manager was standing there with wide eyes and both hands covering her mouth. Before long, the others—including Elara—came over to see what had caused her to drop the object she was holding.

Everyone reacted the same way. "It's really perfect on her," she said in amazement.

Except for Elara.

Elara’s jaw clenched, her hands balled into fists. She turned around and walked away furiously.

Wearing that dress, I stepped outside and couldn’t find Mr. Wynter anywhere.

Did he leave? After playing the knight in his shining armor, has he now gone back to being a mysterious man again? Strangely, none of the employees asked where he had gone.

So all this time, no one has ever known what their big boss, North Wynter, looks like?

However, Mr. Wynter’s departure wasn’t a bad thing, especially after receiving a message from him.

[Unknown Number: I’ve already told the store manager to have that dress altered and set it aside for Selene Noir.]

A smile spread across my face without me realizing it as I typed a reply to him.

[But you haven’t confirmed whether the dress fits me, have you?]

[Unknown Number: I’ve already seen it. I made it myself, so of course I knew. Even now, I can still picture you wearing it.]

Reading that, I felt a strange flutter that made my stomach churn, and I scanned the room, hoping to catch a glimpse of him.

I didn’t see him—only a call from him.

“How could—”

“You’ll find out later. One thing’s for sure, I’m glad to see you wearing that dress. You’re now the Selene Noir I know again.”

I was speechless for a moment upon hearing his compliment. “Thank you for saving my sketchbook and bringing what’s inside it to life,” I said.

He chuckled softly. “You deserve it. By the way, you can pick one of the other dresses to wear tonight. You have a dinner invitation from your elder, right?”

“Yes. I won’t ask how you know everything. You’ll explain it later, won’t you?” I said. He didn’t answer, just mumbled something. “All right, then. Thanks again, Mr. Wynter. I’ll pay you properly when the time comes.”

“Fine. I’ll bill you.”

The call ended just like that. He never seemed to beat around the bush, at least not when it came to ending a conversation properly.

“We apologize for the inconvenience. Mr. Wynter has instructed us to repair this dress, Miss. Will you be wearing it tonight?” asked the store manager suddenly.

I shook my head. “No. You don’t need to rush to fix it. I’ll pick out another, simpler dress for tonight,” I replied.

“Sure. Come, we’ll help you find exactly what you’re looking for.”

I put my phone in my bag and checked my appearance in the mirror once more before heading to the fitting room. After handing the dress to a clerk, I followed the manager to the display area and found another dress that was just as beautiful.

Once again, nearly 50% of the items in that room were based on my own sketches. I chose one of the dresses. However, another disturbance came and disrupted my peace of mind.

Elara stood beside me, holding the same dress and staring at me intently. The biggest problem wasn’t that—it was Dave, who walked over to us and stood next to Elara, as if to make it clear whose side he was on.

“Give that dress to Elara. You’ve already picked out another one, so don’t interfere with what she likes again.”