```
"Aren't you leaving?" Jocelyn Griffin snapped coldly.
The two people turned and walked towards the exit, their silhouettes betraying a hint of a hasty retreat.
"Not even an apology? Just going to leave like that?" Isla's voice suddenly rang out.
The two stopped in their tracks, turned around, and bowed in Isla's direction, saying softly, "We're sorry."
Isla: "I can't hear."
"We're sorry!"
Isla did not say anything more, but she looked towards the young designer named Amelia Clarke.
Having been immersed in the fashion circle for so many years, she was well aware of the intrigue and scheming within this circle; she was just used by these two as a pawn—they wanted to use her to hit at the young designer named Amelia Clarke.
What petty tricks.
It was just that she had actually tripped because of Amelia Clarke, and somewhere in her heart, she harbored a grudge against this seemingly innocent and harmless young designer.
