Anastasia stood frozen, her face a mask of pure shock. "That can't be true!" she finally gasped, her voice trembling. "My dress is the real one! Evelyn's must be the counterfeit!"

She clutched at Julian Montclair's arm, her eyes wide with desperation. "Please, look again. My gown was soiled by Evelyn. That's the only reason for your confusion!"

Her frantic behavior only intensified Julian's disgust.

He pulled his arm away sharply, as if her touch was repulsive.

"Enough!" Julian's voice cut through the air, cold and absolute. "I will say this one final time: the gown Evelyn wears is my original design."

His gaze swept over Anastasia, filled with utter contempt. It was the look one gives a fool who refuses to see reason.

"Do you genuinely believe I would not recognize my own creation? As for your dress, Anastasia, it is flawed in numerous ways."

He let out a derisive laugh. "I attempted politeness out of respect for your husband. I never imagined you would flaunt a forgery so brazenly. It is truly shameful."

A wave of surprise rippled through the onlookers.

The truth was now undeniable. Anastasia was the one wearing the fake.

Instantly, the crowd's opinion of her soured into scorn. "She paraded around in a knock-off and had the audacity to accuse the real thing." "The irony is absolutely laughable."

"I always found Anastasia insufferable. Seeing her get her comeuppance is rather satisfying."

"Evelyn endured so much today, nearly subjected to public humiliation. Thank goodness Julian Montclair set the record straight."

Overwhelmed by despair, Anastasia let out a sharp cry, shoving people aside. "This is impossible! I won't accept this!"

Her rage was a palpable force. She breathed heavily, her finger jabbing accusingly toward Evelyn. "You're nothing but an orphan! A nobody with no family or background! How could someone like you possibly afford an authentic Julian Montclair? Especially married to a cripple like Alexander? It's utterly ridiculous!"

Evelyn had prepared for a confrontation, but the confirmation that her dress was genuine still sent a jolt through her.

Alexander had never lied to her. He was not a man who would deceive her with a counterfeit.

A warm feeling spread through her chest at the thought of his integrity.

She fixed Anastasia with an icy stare. "Anastasia, how many times must Mr. Montclair explain? Do you still refuse to see the truth?"

Evelyn's expression was calm yet unyielding. "I did not seek conflict with you. We came here for a reunion, yet you singled me out from the start."

She continued, her voice steady. "What I wear is my own affair. What gives you the right to interfere? You slandered me without cause, attempted to shame me, and even demanded I undress in public. Now that the facts are clear, an apology is due."