Chapter 1745:


    As the three of them began to move away, Emmett stepped out of the neighboring room. He was speaking softly to a pair of new nannies, giving them careful, detailed instructions.


    Elsa let out a contemptuous snort. “When you two were children, he couldn’t be bothered. But now? Twin babies in his old age, and suddenly he’s devoted and attentive? What a joke. It turns my stomach.”


    Her voice carried just far enough for Emmett to catch every word.


    He turned and walked over, a smug glint in his eye. “Yes, I’m devoted. What are you going to do about it?”


    Elsa’s expression hardened. “Don’t act like I don’t know you. You—”


    Something long-buried surged in Emmett—a pride he had suppressed for years. For most of their marriage, Elsa had controlled him, always finding a way to win. Now, for once, he had no intention of backing down.


    “What do you know about me?” he said. “I love Shari. She is gentle, kind, and thoughtful—nothing like you, with your constant yelling and criticism. For her, I would do anything. I am not the same man I was when I was with you. Go ahead and get angry if you want. See if I care.”


    Ethan and Brenna stood quietly to the side, choosing to observe rather than step in.


    Elsa’s voice dripped with scorn. “You’re just in the honeymoon phase. Give it a little more time—you’ll get tired of her soon enough.”


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    “Sandra, Professor Lawson’s outfit is freshly pressed and ready.” The assistant crossed the room and set a neat shopping bag lightly on Sandra’s desk.


    Sandra didn’t look up. “Leave it there. I’ll take it over myself this afternoon. He’s wearing it to ept his award, so it has to be wless. I won’t feel at ease until I see him try it on.”


    “Of course. I’ll remind you at two,” the assistant said with a smile.


    A little before noon, Sandra’s phone rang. It was Jordy.


    “Sandra, want to grab lunch together?”


    Her eyes remained fixed on her screen. The design draft for Kelley Shaw’s birthday gown glowed before her—her fourth attempt, and still nothing felt right. With the deadline only two days away, every minute counted, and her inspiration was wearing thin. “Not today,” she said. “I need to finish this design. We can do lunch another time.”


    No matter how she sketched, something was always off.


    Over the past couple of years, she had built a steady stream of personalizedmissions. Her clients weren’t the ultra-wealthy like Ethan or Ernst, and she didn’t mind. Her prices sat in the moderate range—anywhere from a few thousand to a few hundred thousand—nothing like Ellie, whose rates were in an entirely different league. Sandra had made peace with that. She focused on the mid-tier market and stayed realistic about where she stood. But she believed she was improving, bit by bit. One day, she would close that gap.


    On the other end of the call, Jordy’s expression darkened the moment she declined. He sat across from a striking young woman—soft features, ivory dress, longshes framing bright eyes. The table between them wasden with luxury: steak, foie gras, a deep red wine, every dish expensive.


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