Chapter 7 Whom Did You Offend?

After leaving the bar, Sylvia locked herself in Paige's studio for two full days, drawing design sketches.

She poured all her chaotic thoughts onto paper, transforming them into flowing lines.

Four design sketches, four different styles—each one infused with her complete dedication.

Paige pushed the door open and saw the desk covered with drawings. She exclaimed, "My God, Sylvia, are you trying to make up for all those years you took off?"

"Nothing else to do, so I drew." Sylvia stretched and asked, "Did you get in touch with Mrs. Smith?"

"Girl, trust me on this!" Paige patted her chest. "Three o'clock this afternoon, café at the Hyatt Regency."

"I definitely trust you!" Sylvia smiled. "It's just that this is my first commission since coming back. I'm a bit nervous."

"Don't be nervous—you're the best!" Paige wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "If anything, the design world should be nervous. They've got a fierce new competitor!"

Sylvia laughed, covering her mouth. "Stop it! It's not that dramatic."

Still, Paige's words did ease her tension.

Paige pulled her up from the chair. "Come on, let's pick out an outfit. You need to look radiant when you meet Mrs. Smith this afternoon!"

As they headed toward the bedroom, Sylvia's phone rang.

She answered. A gentle female voice came through.

"Is this Ms. Sylvia Granger? I'm Mrs. Smith's assistant."

"Yes, speaking."

"Mrs. Smith asked me to inform you that she has an urgent matter this afternoon. Your meeting is canceled."

Sylvia stopped in her tracks. "When would Mrs. Smith be available? I can work around her schedule."

"Well... Mrs. Smith said she's quite busy lately. She'll contact you when she's free."

Before Sylvia could respond, the line went dead.

Paige, who was sorting through clothes, asked, "Who was that?"

Sylvia's shoulders sagged. "The meeting with Mrs. Smith is canceled."

"What?" Paige spun around in surprise. "That doesn't make sense. She was really interested in your work. Why would she cancel?"

She shook her head. "Her assistant just said she was busy and would reschedule, but didn't give a time. I think it's fallen through."

"That's strange." Paige suddenly thought of something and sent her an address. "Oh, there's a design industry event tonight at seven. Mrs. Smith will be there. You could talk to her in person. Unfortunately, I have a business dinner and can't go with you."

"That's fine. I'll go by myself." Sylvia looked at the address and gripped her phone tightly.

Seven o'clock that evening, Everglade Club.

The moment Sylvia walked into the hall, every gaze turned toward her.

Those looks carried scrutiny, appraisal, and some... malice.

She had once been a rising star in this circle, but she'd given it all up for Nelson at the height of her career, disappearing completely.

Seven years later, Sylvia reappeared—but things were different now.

Ignoring the stares, Sylvia held a glass of champagne and scanned the crowd.

Finally, after circling the room, she found Mrs. Smith.

Mrs. Smith wore a deep blue qipao. In her fifties, she exuded elegance as she chatted with several other ladies.

Sylvia walked straight over. "Excuse me for interrupting."

She cut into their conversation and looked at Mrs. Smith. "Mrs. Smith, hello. I'm Sylvia. May I have a word with you?"

Mrs. Smith looked at her and nodded with a smile.

She stood and walked away with Sylvia.

After a few steps, Sylvia heard whispers behind her.

"Why is she here? Who invited her?"

"Probably looking for Mrs. Smith, right? Didn't Mrs. Smith want to commission a dress from her?"

"That was before. Now who would dare hire her..."

Hearing them discuss her, Sylvia glanced back but didn't understand what they meant.

Her attention was entirely on Mrs. Smith. She didn't notice the gaze from a corner that had been fixed on her the entire time.

The two walked to a quiet corner. Mrs. Smith spoke first. "I'm sorry about this afternoon. Something urgent came up."

"It's fine." Sylvia smiled and pulled design sketches from her bag, offering them with both hands. "These are my latest designs. Please take a look. If you have any ideas, just tell me. I'll create something tailored exactly to your needs."

Mrs. Smith didn't take them. She simply smiled. "Ms. Granger, you're a smart woman. You should understand what my cancellation meant."

Sylvia nodded. "I do. But I still wanted to try. Even if there's only a one-in-ten-thousand chance."

Mrs. Smith looked at her, her expression complicated. "Truth is, I admire both you and your work, but..."

She paused, then asked instead, "Have you offended someone recently?"

Sylvia looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"Someone's put out word that anyone who uses your designs is making an enemy of him." Mrs. Smith sighed. "In this industry, everyone's trying to make money. No one wants to make enemies—especially not over an up-and-coming designer."

"So Ms. Granger, you understand what I'm saying?"

Sylvia's fingers tightened around the folder.

Almost instantly, she understood.

It was Nelson.

With his warning, no one would dare use her designs. No one would dare work with her.

She was like someone trapped in a transparent glass cage—able to see the outside world but unable to touch it.

"I understand." Sylvia's voice was calm.

She withdrew the folder and bowed slightly to Mrs. Smith. "Thank you for telling me this. But I still hope we can work together in the future."

Mrs. Smith looked at her, approval flashing in her eyes. "I believe that opportunity will come soon."

Sylvia nodded, drained her glass in one gulp, set it on a table, and strode out of the ballroom.

She would gain nothing from this party. Staying would only make her a spectacle.

The hallway was carpeted thickly, the lighting dim.

Sylvia reached the elevator and pressed the down button.

The doors opened. She stepped inside.

As the doors began to close, a sudden wave of dizziness hit her.

Sylvia braced herself against the wall and shook her head, trying to clear it.

But the dizziness intensified. The floor buttons blurred before her eyes. Her body swayed uncontrollably.

Something was wrong.

She hadn't eaten anything. This shouldn't be happening... unless...

Sylvia suddenly realized. "The wine..."

That drink had been drugged!

She reached for the nearest floor button, but her vision was too blurred. She pressed several times and missed.

Instead, her legs gave out and she collapsed to the floor. Her hand trembled as she tried to pull out her phone to call for help.

But even using all her strength, she couldn't get the phone out.

The elevator stopped. The doors slowly opened.

Two men appeared in the doorway, leering at her.