Evelyn remained perfectly composed from the start.

Her calm was unbreakable.

Anastasia saw that serene expression.

It made her blood boil.

"You're delusional if you expect an apology from me!" Anastasia snapped.

Her voice was sharp with anger.

She didn't wait for a reply.

Her defiance instantly annoyed the surrounding guests.

"Anastasia, where is your shame? You just demanded Evelyn strip off her dress right here."

"You accused her of wearing a fake."

"You publicly humiliated her."

"You owe her an apology."

"How could Anastasia dare to wear a counterfeit to a reunion? Aren't you afraid of becoming a laughingstock?"

"She already is one. It was obvious her dress was an imitation from the beginning."

"Just compare the craftsmanship to Evelyn's. There is no comparison."

"The difference isn't just in the dresses. It's in the women wearing them."

"Evelyn's grace and poise are in a class of their own."

"Someone like Anastasia could never understand that."

The whispered comments painted Anastasia's face red.

It was a mix of deep embarrassment and hot rage.

Even Rebecca, who had first supported Anastasia against Evelyn, now hid in a shadowy corner.

She stayed completely silent.

Anastasia was deeply reluctant.

But she knew an apology was her only way out.

The scandal threatened consequences far beyond her own ruined reputation.

She clenched her teeth.

She faced Evelyn with a stiff expression.

Her tone was forced and unnatural. "Evelyn, I admit I was wrong. I made a mistake."

"I was misled. I misunderstood you completely."

"I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me."

Evelyn's patience was thin.

She saw no point in prolonging this.

The apology was hollow, but contesting it wasted her energy.

Julian Montclair sensed Anastasia's insincerity.

His cold gaze dismissed her. "Enough. I have better things to do than waste my time here."

He announced his departure with finality.

He turned to leave.

The onlookers quickly murmured polite goodbyes, eager to impress him.

At that moment, Evelyn gathered her courage.

She took a decisive step forward.

"Mr. Montclair, please wait a moment," she called out.

Julian paused and turned back.

Mild curiosity showed on his face. "Evelyn, is there something else?"

They moved away from the bustling room together.

They sought a quiet spot, away from the nosy crowd and the relentless chatter.

Once they found a secluded corner, Evelyn looked at him.

Her eyes shone with sincere gratitude.

"Mr. Montclair, I can't thank you enough for what you did back there."

"Without your help, my reputation could have been ruined tonight."

Julian arched an eyebrow, surprised.

He was taken aback that she had sought him out just to thank him for what he considered a minor act.

He shrugged casually, brushing off her thanks.

"There's no need for that. I was merely speaking the truth."

His tone grew firmer, edged with professional pride.

"As a designer, how could I stand by while someone parades a counterfeit as real?"

"To then claim that my own design was the fake?"

"No one with any self-respect would tolerate that disrespect."

Evelyn blinked, startled by the revelation.

"Wait, are you saying the dress I'm wearing is one of your original creations?"

She had assumed Julian intervened out of a sense of justice or simple kindness.

The dress was a gift from Alexander.

It baffled her how he could have acquired an authentic piece from Julian Montclair's exclusive collection.