Chapter 46 Camila Shows Her Skills
Cemile looked at Belende’s embarrassed express worstad sympany only canfaction
She was about to close the door when Belinde suddenly made up her mind and haldirogan “Camila, there’s an auction tonight et Sancho, and Mr. Campbel will be o
i prepped a draws for you because I want you to see your future
husband in person
Cemile said flatly, “So what? If I don’t like what i see, will pu can tha
Belinda was speechless.
are alliancer
The marriage was a decision made solely by the Jackson farmilly–Cartits never had a say it. Whether the arrend or not, she had to marry him.
If that was the case, then wh dfference dd it make whether she saw him or not
Belinda wanted to sacrifice her for the sake of the family’s interests, yet she didn’t want to bear the stigma of selling her daughter for wealth. That’s why she wrapped it all up in a grand sounding excine, pretending it was for Carnila’s own good
Such hypocrisy was disgusting. If Belinda had been straightforward about not caring, it wouldn’t have been this inntating.
She didn’t love Cemía, yet she pretended to care. She kept giving her hope, only to push her into the fire again and again.
She was nothing but a puppet, played at the whims of the Jackson family
And that was the most infuriating part
Camila’s gaze was clear–she had already seen through everything Meanwhile, Belinda’s face flushed red with
embarrassment.
Without another word, Camila reached into the shopping bag and pulled out the dress. It was a simple red slip dress, plain
in design, modest in style–clearly something picked up last minute just for the sake of appearances.
They couldn’t even be bothered to put effort into pretending
“How thoughtful of you, Camila said, deliberately emphasizing the sarcasm in her tone.
Belinda, of course, caught the mockery.
Awkwardly, she forced a smile. “If you don’t like it, I can pick another one for you.”
Camila tossed the dress back at her. “My injuries haven’t healed yet. Are you sure you want me to wear this?”
The wounds from Arthur’s belt had stopped hurting, but the bruises on her arms, back, and thighs were still glaringly obvious.
The worst was her shoulder. Though the wound had healed, it had left behind a large scar. If she wore a slip dress, all of it would be on full display.
Belinda was slow to react but eventually realized the problem. Guilt flashed across her face. “I was careless. I’m sorry.”
“No need for apologies, Camila said. “Just give me the money. I’ll buy one myself–something that actually fits.”
Her body had been severely malnourished. At an age where she should have been growing, she lacked the nutrition to do so. The result? A thin, frail frame with no curves to speak of
The Jackson family all had model–like figures. Arthur stood at 6’1“, Harry at 6’2“, and Belinda at 57“. With those genetics, Camila should have been at least 5’7‘ tall.
But she was only 5’3“. If not for her face–an undeniably perfect blend of Arthur and Belinda’s features, strikingly beautiful- no one would have believed she was truly a Jackson.
And the dress Belinda had brought? It clearly wasn’t her size–it was bought based on Agnes‘ measurements.
Agnes was tall and curvy, well–nourished and well–maintained. She was thin, but not like Camila–Camila was skeletal. There was no way she could wear Agnes‘ size.
Belinda’s face burned with embarrassment, and she wished she could disappear into the ground.
Desperate to escape, she hurriedly pulled out a bank card and handed it to Camila. “There’s thirty thousand dollars c Take it. If it’s not enough, ask me for more.”
Then, without waiting for a response, she fled.
Camila packed up briefly, then took the card ar Successfully unlocked!
She took a taxi straight to the mall–not to buy a dress, but to a suit store.
A suit was formal and, more importantly, would cover all her injuries.
state.
With the store attendant’s recommendation, she picked up a black suit and stepped into the fitting room.
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Chapter46 Cada Ching Her fris
When she came out, she was shot to Chery herself in the minor when she greward a conversation. A young man with delicate features and ristess glasses wee from wordy. “Are you but it cant be repared?”
The store clerk touched the fatis of the seat in his hands and booted or this out is extremely high–end, and the bum mark was made by a cagerstie. To restore it perfectly, youd wad a professional master talkor frafcard we can’t do it here” The man’s face fall. This is bet Our CEO h an important barave tongue, and this but was custom–made specifically for the occasion. Sending it back to Northevite for repairs it an option?
The clerk sighed sympathetically Tm restly sorry, but we cant for it. Maybe you could try another stoc
“I’ve already checked every reportable tator in Sancho, the man said in frustration
Camila glanced at the suit in his hands
Having lived in the Jackson family for three years, she had seen plenty of high–end tailoring. But even so, this suit was on another level–both the fabric and the craftsmanship were impeccable.
it was undoubtedly custom made. There wouldn’t be a second one lire t
Even if it could be repaired, it wouldn’t be a quick fix–and the cost would easily start in the fire–figure range.
Perhaps sensing her gaze, the man in glasses noticed her
Camila, now dressed in a fitted black suit, looked sharp and poised. Though her frame was thin, the suit’s structured shoulders gave her a stronger presence. The black fabric contrasted with her pale skin, and the clean lines of the lapels extended elegantly to her slender neck, exuding a sleek, confident aura.
The man mistook her for the store manager and quickly approached. “Is there really no way to for it? As long as it’s done before sundown, money isn’t an issue”
Camila blinked, realizing his misunderstanding. She was about to refuse, but seeing the expectation in his eyes, she hesitated. That feeling–of suddenly being needed–was strangely difficult to reject
Before she could stop herself, she said, “What about needle work?”
The man hesitated. Adding embroidery to a suit like this? That didn’t seem right.
But at this point, what other option did he have?
Clenching his teeth, he asked, “What kind of embroidery? Are you any good?”
Camila answered calmly, “I know embroidery. My skill level… should be decent.”
She had learned embroidery in Sancho prison. No matter how badly they beat her, they never harmed her hands–because her embroidery was the best in the entire prison.
Even the guards seemed to value her hands.
But how good was she, really? She wasn’t sure. Maybe she only seemed skilled compared to the other inmates.
The man studied her, skeptical. “Embroidery? Are you sure you can do it?”
It wasn’t that he looked down on her–she was just too young.
Embroidery was intricate, demanding, and expensive.
Could someone her age really master it?
Camila didn’t oversell herself. She simply said, “I don’t know if I can. But one thing’s certain–if you bring that burned suit to the banquet, it won’t work.”
That was undeniable. So, at this point, there was no harm in trying.
With a determined expression, the man handed the suit to Camila, silently praying.
This had to work. Tonight’s auction was far too important for the CEO. Camila studied the cigarette burn carefully, her fingers tracing the fabric as she mentally sketched out an embroidery design.
“Do you have embroidery thread?” she asked the clerk.
The clerk nodded and quickly brought her everything she needed.
Camila sat down at the table, her expression turning serious.
Before she even started stitching, she separated a single thread into forty–eight finer strands.
That alone left both the man and the store clerk stunned.
The man’s heart pounded in excitement. Just from that one move, he could tell–Camila wasn’t just good. She was a professional.
