Chapter 33
Chapter 33:
“Exactly, we’re running out of time. Yelena, I’ve got plenty of gowns in my closet. Why don’t you pick one of those?” Bella suggested.
All of Bella’s gowns had already been worn, and she knew putting one on would make Yelena a laughingstock in front of those rich ladies.
With a cool glance, Yelena replied, “I have standards. I don’t wear hand-me-downs p>
Bella’s eyes widened for a moment in surprise, but then narrowed in disdain. Such arrogance!
If Yelena didn’t have a gown, she wouldn’t even be allowed to step foot in the place. And honestly, Bella couldn’t have cared less.
Donna, however, couldn’t bear the thought of her daughter being humiliated by wearing secondhand clothes. She frowned, her mind already working.
“I’ll have someone bring a new gown right away,” she declared. But Donna had no idea if it would fit.
Yelena shook her head gently. “Don’t worry, Mom. I’ll just ask a friend to bring me something that works p>
“That’s fine.” Donna nodded, trusting Yelena’s judgment.
Bella, on the other hand, was already imagining how Yelena would stumble in front of everyone. If she showed up in anything less than a designer masterpiece, Bella would be the first to laugh.
After all, those high-society folks could spot a fake from a mile away.
Yelena quickly made a call to Brody.
Luckily, her company had all the latest high-end designs, and the best part? Everything was in her exact size.
She asked Brody to arrange a gown and have someone take care of her styling. She’d be there in no time.
𝓜𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝗱𝘁𝗵𝓮 𝗰𝗵𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓼 @
She then updated Donna and the others, letting them know she’d meet them at the Mitchell family’s place a bit later.
Donna glanced at the clock and nodded.
After Yelena left, the Harris family made their way to the Mitchells p>
Yelena moved fast. With skin as flawless as hers, she barely needed any makeup.
Once she was done, Brody gave her a look of approval. “Tonight, you’ll be the one everyone’s eyes are on p>
Yelena rolled her eyes. “Oh please, stop buttering me up. I’ve got to go p>
Just as Yelena was about to step onto the Mitchell estate grounds, a voice rang out, dripping with sarcasm. “Yelena? What in the world are you doing here? This is no place for a lowlife like you p>
Yelena turned and caught sight of Sonya, who was standing there with an air of superiority.
Draped in head-to-toe Chanel couture, Sonya carried herself like a walking advertisement for luxury. The designer handbag she clutched was a clear statement—everything about her screamed wealth, as though she were terrified someone might miss the brand names adorning her every inch.
The effect was that of the typical nouveau riche—loud, over-the-top, and desperately trying to prove their worth.
Standing next to Sonya was Roger, a young man with a sharp, lean face.
But his appearance told a different story; dark circles under his eyes made him seem tired, as if life had drained the brightness from his features.