Chapter 591

Chapter 591:

Isolde hesitated. She despised the superficial politics of the Upper East Side elite.

Then she felt a small tug on her sleeve.

“Mommy,” Effie said softly, her eyes wide with innocent hope. “I want to see you wear a princess dress p>

Isolde looked down at her daughter. She thought of Kaiden’s cruel words. She thought of Grayson’s arrogance. She squeezed Effie’s hand.

“All right,” she said, her eyes hardening with quiet resolve. “Let us go shopping p>

The VIP salon on the third floor of Bergdorf Goodman smelled of fresh lilies and expensive champagne. Soft classical music drifted from hidden speakers, and a crystal chandelier cast warm, flattering light over the plush velvet sofas and gilded mirrors lining the walls.

Harper Vance sat with a glass of Dom Pérignon, pointing a manicured finger at a garment bag hanging on the brass rack. “That one,” she instructed the personal shopper. “The emerald green. It has Isolde’s name written all over it p>

Isolde stepped out of the dressing area in her street clothes and looked at the gown. It was a breathtaking piece of haute couture—deep, shimmering emerald silk with a plunging neckline and a daring slit up the thigh. She touched the cool fabric. “Harper, is it not a bit… aggressive p>

Harper rolled her eyes. “Aggressive is exactly the point, Izzy. For five years you dressed like a cloistered nun so Grayson would not feel threatened. It is time to remind these people exactly who they are dealing with p>

Isolde took the hanger and stepped back into the private fitting room.

Effie sat on the velvet sofa, contentedly swinging her legs and nibbling on a pink raspberry macaron the staff had brought her.

J𝗈i𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝖼𝗈𝗺mu𝘯і𝘵у 𝘢𝘵

The polished brass doors of the VIP elevator chimed and slid open.

Victoria Lancaster stepped out, wearing a severe, tailored Chanel suit with her chin lifted in its habitual posture of aristocratic disdain. Belle Escobar walked half a step behind her, arm linked through Victoria’s, playing the devoted future daughter-in-law to perfection.

The personal shopper stiffened. The tension in the room spiked instantly. Everyone in the high-end retail world knew about the explosive Lancaster divorce.

Victoria’s sharp eyes landed immediately on the sofa. She stopped walking. Her face contorted with disgust.

“What is she doing here?” she demanded, pointing a bony finger at Effie.

Effie gasped. The half-eaten macaron slipped from her small fingers and tumbled onto the pristine white Persian rug, leaving a smear of pink cream. She shrank back into the cushions, her eyes wide with terror. “Grandma,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Victoria sneered down at the crumb on the rug. “Absolutely feral. Zero etiquette. But what can one expect? The apple never falls far from the trash p>

Harper slammed her champagne flute down on the glass table. The crystal rang out sharply. She stood and positioned herself between Victoria and Effie. “Watch your mouth, Victoria. You are in a public space, not your private dungeon p>