The security guards, no longer polite, began pulling Abigail and the young woman in the blue dress from the venue. The young woman, anxious, screamed in a choked voice at Joan, “Miss Palmer, I’ll pay you! I’ll compensate for the dress, so don’t implicate others!” Pulling on Abigail, she whispered, “I can’t let you get kicked out with me. This opportunity was hard to get, and being expelled would cost me over 120,000.”

Initially, Abigail felt nothing for Joan. Since Sean held no affection for her, Abigail didn't care about his involvement with Joan. However, Joan's actions were clearly over the line, and Abigail felt a surge of rage. She threw off the security guard's hand. “What compensation? This dress doesn’t cost that much. She’s trying to scam you!”

Joan's face hardened. “Who are you calling a scammer? I can afford a million-dollar wedding dress from your store. This dress was custom-made for me by Alana. 120,000 is a low price.”

Abigail sneered. “Alana custom-made it? Why don’t I know about it?”

“Of course not. Alana and Sean are close.”

Sean's name lent credence to her claim.

The mention of the wedding dress caused a pang in Abigail's heart; her eyes filled with sarcasm. She wondered if Joan knew about her and Sean's more intimate relationship—they were legally married and slept together. She was curious why he would lie to Joan. Did he not foresee a conflict?

Abigail considered exposing the truth, but hesitated. Luna, using the identity of Alana, had signed the cooperation agreement with East Joy Talent. Exposing the truth would only cause them trouble.

Just then, an angry voice cut through the air. “Why don’t I know I’m close with someone named Sean?”

Abigail turned to see Luna, arrogantly approaching, clutching her dress. Relief flooded Abigail; her savior had arrived.

Luna pulled Abigail behind her. “How dare you gang up on a woman?”

Unable to identify Luna, the waiter blamed Joan. “This lady says your friend lacks an invitation.”

Giving Joan a cold look, Luna produced two invitations. “See for yourselves!”

The waiter’s face paled upon seeing the invitations.

Joan felt a premonition of trouble and tried to see the names, but the waiter swiftly closed the invitations and apologized. “I’m sorry, Miss Smith. It was our negligence.”

Alana was Kevin's special guest, announced beforehand. Her mysterious nature had led to the oversight.

Joan felt a shock. Alana… and her assistant? Had she…

Luna, usually easygoing but hardened by experience, gave Joan a cold, calculating look. “Next time you frame someone, choose your victim carefully. Are you that desperate for money?”

Joan flushed crimson, feeling humiliated.

The frantic young woman, fearing implication, interjected. “It’s a misunderstanding. Everything’s fine now.” She gave Abigail a pleading look, urging her not to offend Joan—or, more accurately, the person behind Joan.

Abigail, though grateful for Luna's support, recognized the involvement of innocent people. The young woman could suffer if the matter wasn't resolved peacefully. “Forget it,” Abigail said. “The dress is dirty. Miss Smith, shall we settle this?”

Luna, gritting her teeth, said, “That depends. Does she want to deal with the dress, or does she insist on the 120,000?”

Knowing the dress wasn't Alana's design, Joan decided to avoid further humiliation. “I’ll get changed.”

The young woman offered her caravan and a spare dress.

They left together.

The young woman quietly thanked Abigail, understanding their close bond and Luna's willingness to help because of Abigail.