The value of that dress could no longer be measured in money.
It represented a promise—a magnificent, radiant dream Andrew had once woven for me with his own hands.
I closed my eyes.
For a moment, I could still see the day of our engagement—Andrew gazing at me as I wore Star Sea, light blazing in his eyes.
He had said, "Jade, all the luck I'll ever have in this lifetime was probably used up the moment I met you."
I never doubted that Andrew had once been sincere with me.
It was only now that I understood—sincerity was something that could change in an instant.
Exhausted, I sank into the sofa.
A servant immediately brought over a basin of warm water and a soft towel, carefully wiping the marks from my face.
The water was changed several times.
The rubbing made my skin sting faintly. But the blue characters seemed to have grown into my skin, leaving behind a pale cyan shadow—like a birthmark that refused to fade.
My phone began vibrating wildly. There were more than a dozen messages from a close friend.
[That woman with the surname Garcia—has she lost her mind?!]
Below it was a link, along with a photo that had already been shared countless times.
In the photo, my face was turned slightly to the side.
The shock and anger on my expression hadn't had time to fade. The blue words "Pork Quality—Grade A" on my face were painfully clear.
My hair was disheveled. My makeup was smeared.
I looked utterly humiliated.
The caption was posted by Hazel with just three sentence, paired with a hand-over-mouth laughing emoji.
[Some people get overly sensitive as they age. It was just a small joke, yet they lost their temper.]
[You're better off when you're young—no burden, no limits on how you play~]
My friend's call came through immediately.
"It's spreading everywhere in our circle. The wording isn't that nasty, but..."
She trailed off.
I understood without her finishing.
But my dignity had been completely trampled.
I opened my mouth, wanting to say I was fine. But my throat felt stuffed with wet cotton. No sound came out. I could only take a breath and force my voice to stay steady.
"I'll handle it."
Then I hung up.
Almost at the same moment, footsteps echoed outside the villa.
More than a dozen men in black walked in first, then threw a bound Hazel onto the floor.
She steadied herself and snapped her head up.
"Jade! All you know how to do is use your family's power to bully people, isn't that right?!"
"Besides relying on your background, what else are you capable of?!"
I slowly sat up from the sofa and looked at her.
I even let out a soft laugh.
"Hazel, my name is Jade Elizabeth Davis."
She froze, clearly not understanding why I suddenly said that.
"In Massachusetts, there's an unspoken rule about names with doubled characters."
"It means the child was born destined to be cherished and indulged. She doesn't need to compete like men do—no fighting for power, no business, no politics."
"The only thing she needs to do in this lifetime..."
"...is to enjoy life."
I paused, watching the color drain from Hazel's face.
"And you must know what the Davis family represents."
Hazel's lips began to tremble.
Of course she knew.
In Massachusetts, what the Davis family stood for was a height she couldn't reach even standing on tiptoe.
She forced herself upright, but her voice wavered.
"I—I only wore one of your dresses! What's the big deal?! I'll give it back to you!"
As she spoke, she fumbled desperately for the zipper of the gown.
"No need."
"I don't want clothes that have been dirtied."
I stood and walked slowly toward her, looking down at her from above.
