The voice came behind her.
Rosalie paused as she turned around. Before her, was a blond young woman wearing a blue fit-and-flare dress with a diamond choker on her neck. She appeared to be around the same age as Rosalie, but the wedding ring hinted that she might be slightly older than her.
The woman's lips widened as she approached Rosalie and placed her hands on the latter's forearms with admiring eyes.
"Oh, god. You look different. Did you perhaps go to a plastic surgeon and change a few things on your face?"
Restraining her reflex to back away, Rosalie calmed herself down. She tried to speak in a familiar and intimate tone, "Don't tease me, Candice. I just changed how I put on my makeup from a video I watched last night. Seeing how you're fawning over me, I guess it worked."
Having the word 'plastic surgeon' as an opening to their conversation made her recall the identity of the woman in front of her. She was Candice Roberts, a high socialite known for her obsession with the makeup industry. Rosalie met her a few times on some occasions like this founding party, but they weren't able to get close to each other as their interests never intersect. Additionally, while the Ameratti family was also a wealthy family with three generations of history, Candice belonged to a much wealthier and upper-class family that lived in the capital city. Even her husband was as wealthy as her family. That was why, even though there were a lot of parties and gatherings in Neverville, Rosalie only met Candice a few times. But they shared good feelings.
And in the future, Candice will become a multi-billionaire who owns her self-made makeup empire.
Candice smiled at her bold response. Usually, people would treat her with strict politeness and never call her by her name. Always with the 'Miss Roberts' unless they belonged to the same upper class as her or someone close to her. Moreover, no one dared to get close to her because of her status. Only Rosalie would do it unambitiously.
Maybe it was because of the way Rosalie acted so naturally friendly around her, without showing a bit of greed or ambition to take advantage of her, that made Candice have a good impression of her.
"Don't lie to me. Do you think I wouldn't be able to tell if you're wearing makeup or not?" Candice smiled helplessly. When she looked at Rosalie's face, she couldn't help but feel a little relieved.
With such a beautiful face, who knows what kind of trouble it might bring to the one who wore it?
Speaking of trouble... Candice paused and stepped closer to whisper: "You just arrived on time. I saw your stepmother looking pissed after taking a call. You do be careful around her. Looking at her makes me think of a fairytale witch. "
Candice left her side, but before she left, she had to wink at Rosalie, whose lips twitched into a smile.
There was no need for Candice's warning. But it was something Rosalie appreciated. In the past, nobody had said anything about her stepmother that way. They were either too respectful or afraid of Emma that no one had warned her about anything.
Rosalie gave Candice a 'good person' stamp and continued walking.
This time, the attention she brought doubled after Candice spoke to her. Many glanced her way and stepped forward with their champagne flutes in hand to strike up a conversation with her. Rosalie naturally ignored them. These superficial interactions will change once they find out she is a fake Ameratti.
Thus, Rosalie walked forward by herself.
In the middle ahead, near the raised platform where the MC would speak to the microphone to engage with the guests, a small crowd of important people dressed in neat and classic suits and dresses gathered.
They were the members of the Ameratti family and a few distinguished honored guests. Most of them were deep in their conversations, and among them was Emma and her father, Albert Ameratti. Both didn't notice her and continued talking until the topic shifted to her.
"I'm really sorry. My daughter seems to be late. It would've been great to introduce her to you," Emma sounded almost too disappointed and showed an unhappy expression. Releasing a sigh as if frustrated, she continued, "That girl, really. I told her to hurry up. But who knew when I called her, she was still sleeping."
Although she was speaking softly, Emma was seething deep inside. She had just called Richard and heard he was on his way to the party. And he was alone!
She sent him to the mansion to ensure that Rosalie would come to the party wearing the dress she picked for her. But Richard was distracted by Rosalie and forgot what he came there for. He even got left behind.
Emma cursed in her heart. But quickly calmed down. Knowing Rosalie, Emma knew that the former would wear the dress she carefully picked for her just to make her feel satisfied and happy.
With that in thought, Emma vaguely added with deep meaning: "But don't worry, she must be on her way here after my call. When she arrives, please do not scold her, Honey. She prepared so much for the party and even picked her dress."
Hearing this, a wealthy madam on the left side, suddenly said, "That's right. Today's an important day for your family. A little tardiness surely wouldn't ruin the party."
The more Albert listened, the deeper he frowned. Still, he couldn't refuse his beloved's request and replied, "I won't scold her if she arrives before the party ends."
From behind, Rosalie glanced at their backs and smirked coldly. She thought that in the past, did their conversation also turn like this? Did Emma also interfere like this just so a few more people would pay attention to her arrival to the party? And then, when they saw her vulgar dress, did Emma feel elated by the idea of putting her into the spotlight and becoming the laugh of the country?
Rosalie wanted to know why Emma was doing this to her. But understanding the thinking of a dog will only corrupt her mind. So, there's no need to go that far.
Everyone was attentively focused on speaking to each other. Unbeknownst to them, Rosalie was calmly sipping wine, watching Emma create a self-directed drama.
Just as the cold, rich taste of wine passed through her tongue and to her throat, the door was pushed open, silencing the sound coming from the hall.
Rosalie unhurriedly glanced towards the door, and as if drawn by her eyes, the person who walked in also looked at her.
It was a haggard-looking Richard.