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Reborn As The Tycoon's Hated Ward
img img Reborn As The Tycoon's Hated Ward img Chapter 6 6
6 Chapters
Chapter 11 11 img
Chapter 12 12 img
Chapter 13 13 img
Chapter 14 14 img
Chapter 15 15 img
Chapter 16 16 img
Chapter 17 17 img
Chapter 18 18 img
Chapter 19 19 img
Chapter 20 20 img
Chapter 21 21 img
Chapter 22 22 img
Chapter 23 23 img
Chapter 24 24 img
Chapter 25 25 img
Chapter 26 26 img
Chapter 27 27 img
Chapter 28 28 img
Chapter 29 29 img
Chapter 30 30 img
Chapter 31 31 img
Chapter 32 32 img
Chapter 33 33 img
Chapter 34 34 img
Chapter 35 35 img
Chapter 36 36 img
Chapter 37 37 img
Chapter 38 38 img
Chapter 39 39 img
Chapter 40 40 img
Chapter 41 41 img
Chapter 42 42 img
Chapter 43 43 img
Chapter 44 44 img
Chapter 45 45 img
Chapter 46 46 img
Chapter 47 47 img
Chapter 48 48 img
Chapter 49 49 img
Chapter 50 50 img
Chapter 51 51 img
Chapter 52 52 img
Chapter 53 53 img
Chapter 54 54 img
Chapter 55 55 img
Chapter 56 56 img
Chapter 57 57 img
Chapter 58 58 img
Chapter 59 59 img
Chapter 60 60 img
Chapter 61 61 img
Chapter 62 62 img
Chapter 63 63 img
Chapter 64 64 img
Chapter 65 65 img
Chapter 66 66 img
Chapter 67 67 img
Chapter 68 68 img
Chapter 69 69 img
Chapter 70 70 img
Chapter 71 71 img
Chapter 72 72 img
Chapter 73 73 img
Chapter 74 74 img
Chapter 75 75 img
Chapter 76 76 img
Chapter 77 77 img
Chapter 78 78 img
Chapter 79 79 img
Chapter 80 80 img
Chapter 81 81 img
Chapter 82 82 img
Chapter 83 83 img
Chapter 84 84 img
Chapter 85 85 img
Chapter 86 86 img
Chapter 87 87 img
Chapter 88 88 img
Chapter 89 89 img
Chapter 90 90 img
Chapter 91 91 img
Chapter 92 92 img
Chapter 93 93 img
Chapter 94 94 img
Chapter 95 95 img
Chapter 96 96 img
Chapter 97 97 img
Chapter 98 98 img
Chapter 99 99 img
Chapter 100 100 img
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Chapter 6 6

The black stretch Lincoln glided smoothly along the highway toward Manhattan.

Helena sat on the plush leather seat. She wore a simple, perfectly tailored white sheath dress. She rested her arm on the door, watching the trees blur past the tinted window.

Across from her, Alaina sat rigidly upright. She wore a stiff navy blue business suit. Her hands were clamped tightly around a thick black folder resting on her lap. She kept biting her lower lip, chewing on the skin until it turned red.

The silence in the car was thick with Alaina's nervous energy.

Helena turned her head. "Nervous about the first day?"

Alaina jumped slightly. She nodded. "A little. I am worried I will not do well."

"You graduated from Parsons," Helena said smoothly. "You will be brilliant."

Alaina's eyes flickered with a brief light at the mention of her design school, but it faded quickly. She looked down at the black folder in her lap. Her fingers traced the edge of the plastic cover.

She took a deep breath, unclasped her hands, and held the folder out across the space between them.

"These are some of my sketches," Alaina said, her voice shaking. "Could you... could you take a look?"

Helena reached out and took the folder. She opened it and rested it on her knees.

Inside were pencil and watercolor sketches of evening gowns.

Helena's posture changed instantly. Her eyes narrowed in focus. Her thumb automatically moved to the seam of her white dress, rubbing the fabric in a slow, rhythmic motion.

The designs were beautiful. Alaina had raw talent. But the structural logic of the garments was flawed.

Helena turned the page. The silence stretched.

Alaina held her breath. Her stomach twisted into knots. She was terrified Helena would laugh at her.

"This draping is beautiful," Helena said suddenly. She tapped her finger against a sketch of a flowing blue gown. "The way you have handled the chiffon creates a sense of movement. Like water."

Alaina let out a shaky breath. Her shoulders dropped an inch.

"But for this silhouette," Helena continued, her eyes scanning the lines, "you might want to consider a heavier silk blend for the lining. It will give the skirt more structure without losing the flow. Right now, the weight of the bodice will drag the waistline down."

Alaina stared at her. Her mouth parted slightly.

Helena turned another page. "And here. The seam placement on the bias cut will pucker if you use this satin. Move the zipper to the side seam."

She spoke with absolute authority. It was the voice of a seasoned professional.

Alaina scrambled to open her purse. She pulled out a pen and leaned forward, writing notes directly onto the plastic sleeves of her folder.

"Helena..." Alaina stopped writing and looked up. "How do you know all this?"

Helena froze. Her thumb stopped rubbing the seam of her dress. She had slipped into her old life.

She looked at Alaina's wide, amazed eyes.

Helena let out a light, breathy laugh. She leaned back against the leather seat.

"I am not entirely sure, honestly," Helena said, waving her hand with a touch of hesitation. "I think I read it in an editorial in Vogue once? They were talking about how heavy fabrics need proper lining. Plus, I ruined a perfectly good bias-cut dress last year because the zipper was in the wrong place. You just pick these things up when you buy enough couture and ruin half of it."

Alaina blinked. The explanation fit the old Helena perfectly. The shopping addict.

Alaina smiled. The tension completely left her body. She reached into the folder, pulled out a sketch of a stunning red cocktail dress, and handed it to Helena.

"This is for you," Alaina said softly. "As a thank you."

Helena took the paper. She looked at the careful pencil strokes.

"It is beautiful," Helena said. "Thank you, Alaina."

The Lincoln pulled up to the curb in front of the massive glass-and-steel Hancock Group headquarters.

When Alaina stepped out of the car, she did not look at the ground. She looked up at the building, her chest filled with a new, quiet confidence. She walked close to Helena, trusting her completely.

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