Chapter 1696

Innumerable memories flooded Rose's mind like relentless nightmares, leaving her heart in turmoil.

She made her way to the fridge, retrieved a chilled bottle of water, and drank it all, hoping to quell

the unrest within her.

At this moment, a thud emanated from the fitting room, jolting Rose. Hastily, she approached and

rapped on the door, concern evident in her voice. "Ms. Sparks, is everything alright? Ms. Sparks?"

No one responded. Rose felt something was off and barged into the fitting room

"Ms. Sparks!"

Clarissa had fainted, her upper body exposed. Clarissa's back was covered with bruises and scabs

formed by old injuries.

Rose was stunned for two seconds before she swiftly took off her coat to cover Clarissa's body. Then

she carried her up.

"Ms. Sparks, wake up!”

As Clarissa gradually regained consciousness, Rose's relief was palpable, yet her concern lingered.

"How did you get these injuries, Ms. Sparks?"

Avoiding Rose's probing gaze, Clarissa turned away, tears brimming in her eyes.

"Are you being abused? Did Josh do this to you?" Rose's eyes blazed with fury, their depths tinged

with scarlet intensity.

"Ms. Emerson, this is a private matter. Please don't ask.”

Clarissa struggled to get up. She frantically wore her clothes. "I will transfer the money to you

shortly. I will ask my assistant to collect the gown from you. Sorry for the trouble!”

As Clarissa prepared to flee, Rose's voice cut through the air, "Ms. Sparks, domestic abuse isn't a

singular event—it recurs, relentlessly haunting its victims. You understand more than anyone the

anguish and torment you've endured all these years.

"Are you truly willing to spend the rest of your life with that pretentious bastard? No matter how

much you endure, your body will inevitably falter under the strain. Are you resigned to the

possibility of meeting your end at his hands one day?"

"Then, what am I supposed to do? Do I have a choice?"

Clarissa finally broke down, unleashing the pent-up hatred she had suppressed for so long. "I'm

barely clinging to life as it is. If I fight back, I'll only end up dead.”

"Bullshit!" The domestic violence had struck a nerve in Rose. She shrieked, "You will end up dead if

you don't retaliate! Ms. Sparks, it's still not too late for you. As long as—"

Before she could finish, the door slammed shut, cutting her off.

Rose's features hardened, her body tensing with suppressed fury as an unsettling idea took root in

her mind.

Just as Clarissa's car made its way out of the studio, a sleek luxury vehicle swept in. Disregarding the

marked parking areas, it brazenly parked sideways in front of the studio, demonstrating utter

arrogance and a disdain for the rules.

"Mom, what sort of dump did that awful woman pick to live in? It's so remote, and the drive was

pure torture!" A woman clad in a pink lace dress complained as she stepped out of the car, her eyes

brimming with disdain as she stretched in discomfort.

She was Jamie Emerson, Rose's sister from another mother.

"It's because the housing in this area is affordable. That despicable woman is probably pinching

pennies, maybe even saving for her dowry,” commented a stout, stern-faced middle-aged woman

walking closely behind. She was Lydia Carney, Jamie's mother.

"She parades around as a designer just to boost her status and snag a wealthy husband. Otherwise,

she'd be nothing but a shameful illegitimate daughter. If the truth were to come out, who would

even consider marrying her? She's nothing but a source of embarrassment and disgrace.”