His Perfect Wife Strikes Back

98 You Can't Humiliate Her!

Daley was gone when I opened my eyes in the morning. I'm used to him leaving without saying goodbye. Every time I close my eyes last night, I picture Frade alone in the garden.

And Daley appeared in my dream. His hands were stained with blood, and he was dressed in a large white robe that resembled a monk's. He stood in the misty forest and watched me from a distance. Half of his face was covered by darkness, revealing only the other half, which was broken.

I woke up feeling thirsty, so I looked for a glass of ice water. I slumped on the sofa, tired from last night's dream. I remember Daley stroking my cheek as I slept last night. There still seems to be a trace of blood in my nose.

He must have gone hunting last night.

At that time, I received a text message. I picked up my cell phone to check my messages. Daley texted me. He told me that a chauffeur would pick me up at 9 o'clock to take me to the bridal shop. He will be waiting for me there.

I replied with a simple yes.

As I put down my cell phone, I looked out the window at the sky and fell into deep thought. The thought of our engagement threw me into a deep contradiction. Our marriage is based more on profit. It's no different than my marriage to Ron.

To escape Mikeal's control, I rushed into the marriage without even knowing Ron. But what marriage brings me in the end is pain and loss.

What if my marriage to Daley is the same?

But at this point, what choice do I have?

I felt upset after having breakfast. The footman came to tell me that the driver was waiting for me downstairs. So I got into the car and let the driver take me to a high-end bridal shop.

A shop assistant in a dark gray dress suit opened the car door for me gallantly. She showed me into the shop with a professional smile. Then she took me to the top floor in the elevator. The sales assistant told me that the top floor was reserved for VIPs. It was a fitting room for special customers.

When I arrived at the VIP fitting room, I found a woman standing on a red leather sofa with her feet crossed, asking another clerk to change her shoes.

That woman must be Sarah.

My clerk's name is Lucea.

She asked me enthusiastically what kind of drink I wanted. I told her to just give me a cup of coffee. As I didn't sleep well last night, I'm in desperate need of a cup of coffee to refresh myself.

I sat at the other end of the couch and pretended not to see Sarah. When she saw me, she first rolled her eyes at me and then snorted.

"I want to try on all the dresses in the shop first, and she can only try on the ones I don't like," Sarah said deliberately to her waitress.

The clerk didn't understand, so she took one look at Sarah, and she quickly sensed the hostility between Sarah and me. So she smiled at Sarah and said, "We'll be sure to give you the best service."

Smart salespeople don't offend customers, nor do they involve themselves in customer grudges. They will only intervene when things go wrong and apologize to the guests.

I glanced at the wedding dress on display in the shop. Each piece is made by a famous designer. Different styles of wedding dresses were worn by the models. The lights project in different directions, making each dress look expensive and dreamy.

The clerk brought me a cup of coffee and another brought Sarah juice. As she was taking a selfie with her cell phone, she didn't notice the juice on the table and accidentally spilled it on the carpet.

"Never mind, we'll let the cleaner handle it," said the clerk hastily.

Soon a cleaner came to the table with a special cleaning tool in her hand and began to clean the stains on the carpet. The clerk, Lucea, started telling me all the styles and designers of the dresses. She recommended a vintage wedding dress to me. She told me that the designer of the dress had once designed a wedding dress for the British royal family, and that the one she had recommended to me was studded with hundreds of diamonds.

"I guarantee you will look fabulous in this wedding dress," Lucea said in a flattering tone.

Just as I was about to agree to try on the dress, a shrill voice reached my ears. I turned to see Sarah pointing at the cleaner in front of me and swearing.

"What the hell are you doing?" Sarah exclaimed. "You touched my shoes with that dirty thing."

The cleaner was wearing a blue hat and kept her head down. She was holding a cleaning tool in her hand and didn't dare make a sound. Several employees tried to smooth things over, but Sarah would not let the cleaner go. She asked the cleaner to kneel down and wipe her high heels with her hands.

"You can't make unreasonable demands of an innocent woman," I said to Sarah, standing up. "This woman just accidentally touched your shoes while cleaning the carpet."

"My shoes are much more expensive than she makes, and I guess it's none of your business what I do," Sarah said, standing up,

"I'm sorry, miss. Please forgive my mistake." The cleaner's voice was weak, and I could see her face as she looked up. I had seen her somewhere, and I soon remembered that I had met her at the soup kitchen. I gave her the food I got. I remember her telling me that her name was Joan.

"You shouldn't have touched my shoes with your dirty hands," Sarah exclaimed, "And you should have paid for your foolishness."

"Sarah, you have no right to ask her!" I scolded her. "You can't humiliate her!"

"Of course I can!" Sarah glared at the clerk beside her. "I think you know what to do."

The timid clerk didn't want to upset her customers, so she said directly to the cleaner, "Just do it, quick!"

Then the cleaning woman got down on her knees and wiped Sarah's heels with her hands. I tried to stop it, but Lucea quietly tugged at my sleeve, hinting that I shouldn't interfere.

Perhaps they had already seen customers as difficult as Sarah, and giving in to customers should be part of their routine. But when the woman finished polishing Sarah's shoes, she went even further.

"I don't want to see this woman again, ever."

The clerk understood and immediately said to the woman, "Sorry, you can't work here anymore. Please go back to the office and put down your badge. You're fired!"

The woman burst into tears. I couldn't stand Sarah bullying her, so I decided to get her rights back.

"You have no right to ask them to fire her," I exclaimed. "Don't torture an innocent woman with your superiority complex."

Sarah sneered. "Well, I'll tell you, I can. The upper class has more privileges than the lower class, and that's the truth."

"Nonsense." I stared at her.

"If she can buy me a new pair of shoes, I'll drop the complaint against her," Sarah said, deliberately approaching me.

"Or you could pay for her."

I knew at that moment that Sarah was just using the poor woman to impress me, and if I hadn't gotten involved in the first place, maybe Joan wouldn't have been fired. I should have paid for my mistake, but damn it, I didn't bring Vickie's credit card, and I didn't have enough money.

"So, who's going to pay?" Sarah smiled triumphantly.

"Me."

A man's voice came from across the room.