Sean glanced at Abigail, furrowing his attractive brows. He wondered about her purpose. Why was she doing such a servile job? It was a stark contrast to her life with the Grahams. He sneered. "Stop following others and dive into the service industry if you can't stay humble."

His words stung Abigail. They could turn things upside down in perfect harmony, couldn't they?

She curled her lip and said, in a somewhat impolite tone, "Very well. I shall let someone else serve you. Hopefully, you can successfully get Alana's contact information and introduce more clients to us."

Abigail left the fitting room immediately, calling over an assistant to replace her. Before the assistant entered, she instructed, "Don't mention my identity. And if they ask why I'm not there, tell them Alana's husband recently passed away, so she's not in the mood to design dresses." Asking to meet Alana? Dream on!

The assistant quickly took the order and went to the fitting room. She overheard Joan complaining to Sean. "What's with her attitude?! I asked for Alana's number because I genuinely love this wedding dress. She responded so rudely! I can't believe store attendants are so ill-mannered."

Sean's head ached from Joan's whining. "Why argue with a store employee? I'll ask someone to get Alana's number and have her meet you. Okay?"

The assistant involuntarily pursed her lips, secretly criticizing: How hilarious! Ms. Alana was right there, and he offended her. Now he wants her to design his dress?!

She conveyed Abigail's message. "I'm sorry, but Ms. Alana's husband recently passed away. She doesn't feel like meeting guests right now."

Sean's eyelid twitched. "We'll wait until she's ready, then." Alana was a widow? That was unfortunate.

Thanks to Sean's actions, Abigail was wide awake. She called Luna, "Hey, I made 1.3 million in profit today! Hurry over; let's celebrate!"

Luna knew Abigail had sold the wedding dress. She was in the midst of a divorce with Sean; it was good she sold it to someone else. Curiosity got the better of her. "Whichmagnificent customer bought it?"

"Sean," Abigail said wryly. "He bought it for Joan."

Luna shrieked into the phone, "Why did you still sell it?!"

Abigail fought back tears. "Who cares? We made a huge profit! That's enough to cover our expenses for a year!" She hadn't expected the dress she'd worked on for three years would end up with another woman, but at least she'd made 1.3 million. 1.3 January 3rd, the day she and Sean applied for their marriage license. He'd probably forgotten the date.

That evening, Abigail and Luna drank heavily. Luna passed out. After taking Luna home, Abigail hailed a cab but then remembered Sean hadn't seen the divorce settlement. She asked the driver to take her back home.

Abigail reached her apartment and, before she could fully enter, a man pushed her against the door and kissed her.

Though drunk, the familiar scent and heat made her want to cry. His advances would have thrilled her a few days ago.

Her passion vanished when she remembered him at the studio with Joan, trying on the wedding dress.

She shoved him away, wiping her mouth. "How desperate are you?! Didn't Joan satisfy you enough?"

Sean, still in his suit, stared at her with sullen eyes. "What about you? You said you were divorcing me. Why are you here? Can't handle your job?"

Abigail, fists clenched, said snappishly, "The pay isn't great, but the suffering is far less than when I worked for you."

She bypassed Sean, turned on the lights, grabbed the divorce settlement, and shoved it into his arms. "I came back for this. Glad you're here; saves me a trip tomorrow."