Inside the banquet hall, Brenna stood quietly, yet her thoughts kept drifting back to the masked man from this morning. Something about him left her slightly uneasy.

A sudden stir broke out near the entrance. "Mr. Todd actually came!" someone whispered urgently.

The lively chatter died down in an instant. Guests stepped aside, clearing a path without being told.

Curiosity tugged at Brenna, and she lifted her gaze toward the door.

Vincent walked in at an unhurried pace, dressed in a fitted black shirt that outlined his build. His sleeves were casually rolled up, exposing toned forearms that made the look seem effortless rather than staged.

The rumors had painted him as grotesque and unpresentable. The man standing there was anything but. His features were sharp and defined, with deep eyes, a straight nose, and a clean, sculpted jaw.

"Is that really Mr. Todd? He's so dashing," someone murmured in disbelief.

"I've never seen him this close before. He looks like a movie star!"

"Good looks aside, they say he's got a terrible temper..."

"Keep it down. He's ruthless. If you cross him, he won't go easy on you."

An uneasy chill spread through the crowd.

Brenna found herself staring longer than she intended. Those eyes of his felt strangely familiar.

When their gazes met across the hall, something shifted.

For the briefest second, Brenna sensed recognition flicker in his expression. His posture tightened ever so slightly, and surprise crossed his face before he masked it. Was he reacting to her appearance? The heavy burn makeup had fooled plenty of people.

Meanwhile, Vincent felt his pulse spike. He leaned slightly toward Felix and whispered, "It's her."

Vincent's eyes stayed on Brenna without wavering. The longer he looked, the clearer it became that the woman from this morning was not a hallucination.

After the car incident years ago, color had vanished from Vincent's world. Doctors called it trauma-induced damage, and no treatment had restored it. Over time, he had learned to live with endless shades of gray. Yet ever since she appeared, something had shifted.

Felix blinked in disbelief. "You're certain?"

"Yes," Vincent answered quietly. "I see colors around her. A lot."

A fracture seemed to form deep inside him, as if something long sealed away was finally breaking open. Brilliant hues gathered around Brenna like light drawn to a single point. The wine in her glass glowed amber. The dark fabric of her dress caught light in subtle layers. Everything else remained muted and lifeless, but she stood vivid and impossible to overlook.

Felix's tone lost its teasing edge. "Stay here. I'll have someone investigate immediately."

Numerous top specialists had failed to cure Vincent for years. If he really saw colors again, this was a miracle.

A crease formed between Felix's brows as a thought struck him. "So, do you still plan to go through with the engagement?"

Vincent did not take his eyes off Brenna, his tone unwavering. "Of course. I am definitely going to marry her!"

Felix stared at Vincent, stunned. Even if this woman somehow restored Vincent's color vision, marriage was an entirely different matter. What was driving him to decide so quickly?

Before the exchange could continue, Sarah approached with a polite smile. "Mr. Todd, my husband and son weren't expecting you this early. They'll be here soon."

Without hesitation, she nudged Brenna forward. "Why don't you take a proper look at her first? You two knew each other as children. She was meant to be your bride back then, but circumstances separated you. Now that she's returned, it's only natural for the engagement to continue."

She spoke lightly, as if the switch in daughters were a minor detail that required no attention.

Standing nearby, Noreen felt her cheeks heat up. She hadn't imagined Vincent would look this dashing. Regret began to creep into her heart. If she had known he was this cute, she would never have handed him over to that ugly woman Brenna.

Vincent's eyes locked onto Brenna with steady intensity. "Miss Fuller, since this engagement was decided long before we were born, it remains valid."

Vincent felt his interest in Brenna grow. Outside, Brenna looked mild and compliant. This image clashed with the woman he had encountered this morning. This morning, she had stayed composed in front of assassins and even spotted danger hidden in his watch. He couldn't reconcile the two versions of her.

His eyes glued to her, he added, "What matters is whether you agree to this arranged marriage."

He silently decided that if she refused, he would find another way to keep her close. He needed answers for why he saw colors around her.

Brenna blinked once, expression neutral. "I'm fine with it. As long as you don't mind a fiancée with a ruined face."

Truthfully, the engagement worked in her favor. What unsettled her was Vincent's reaction. When he looked at her, there was no trace of disgust. If anything, his gaze glinted as if he'd stumbled upon something incredibly precious. She couldn't help but shiver a bit. Must be her imagination. The makeup was deliberately grotesque. No one in their right mind would find it appealing.

Vincent remained composed. "Your appearance isn't an issue. The Todd family doesn't measure people that way."

When Vincent remembered the rumors that Brenna had suffered mistreatment in the Walsh household because of her appearance, his expression darkened as he turned toward Sarah. In a low and threatening voice, he said, "This is supposed to be an engagement ceremony, yet your family could not even provide Brenna with a proper dress. Have you truly sunk so low, or do you think so little of the Todd family?"

Brenna lifted a brow slightly. They weren't close enough for him to defend her, were they?

Sarah's smile tightened. "You've got it wrong," she hastily said. "We did prepare something suitable. Brenna just wasn't comfortable wearing it."

Sarah carefully avoided mentioning that Brenna had run away from home two days ago. No one expected her to walk back in on the engagement date itself. There hadn't been time to arrange anything.

Standing nearby, Noreen quickly produced a formal dress. "I prepared this for you, Brenna. But you didn't seem pleased when I showed it to you before." Her voice trembled slightly. "It's designed by Hayley Watson. I waited a long time to secure it. I know you resent me, but we're still family..."

A ripple of surprise moved through the crowd. Hayley Watson was internationally celebrated, and even her simplest designs started at eight hundred thousand.

Sarah grew anxious. "Brenna, tell everyone the truth," she urged. "You refused to wear it. Don't let Mr. Todd misunderstand."

Under the weight of countless stares, Brenna let out a quiet laugh. "You want me to tell the truth? I doubt you're ready for that." She tilted her head and examined the gown in Noreen's hands. "If I walk in wearing this poor imitation, that would be the real embarrassment for the Walsh family."

Gasps spread through the hall. An imitation?

Vincent's gaze darkened. "Miss Walsh, I'd appreciate a clear explanation."

Noreen's pulse thudded in her ears. "I..."

Noreen couldn't fathom it. There was no way a rude bumpkin like Brenna could know how to distinguish a real piece from a fake one, was there? She steadied herself, forcing moisture into her eyes. "I bought it from the authorized boutique," she said softly. "Brenna, how could you accuse me like that without proof? This is clearly authentic..."

Before she could finish, Brenna cut in. "Hayley's pieces aren't easy to copy. If you're confident it's real, let's have Hayley confirm it herself."

Sarah's patience snapped. "Enough! Brenna, stop making a scene here!" she said sharply. "Hayley isn't even in the country. She's on a private retreat and not taking any appointments. Do you think she can be summoned just because you ask?"

Even the Walsh family had no access to someone of that status.

Hearing this, Noreen relaxed slightly. She softened her voice with a hint of sympathy. "Everyone, please don't be upset with Brenna. She's lived in a backwater town for years and hasn't seen any fine garments. It's understandable if she can't recognize high fashion."

"Fine garments?" Brenna let out a short laugh. "I may have lived simply, but at least my taste isn't questionable."

"You!" Noreen's composure cracked for a moment.

Before she could form a retort, Brenna had already taken out her phone. "Hayley might be resting," she said evenly, "but she'll answer when I call."

A faint curve lifted at the corner of Noreen's lips. "You're not planning to grab some random person and pretend she's Hayley, are you? Then claim you were fooled?"

Her words had barely settled when the video call connected. The screen lit up with the image of a woman with short hair and sharp features.

The moment the woman saw Brenna, her face brightened. "Brenna, you finally decided to call me? I've been trying to drag you out for dinner forever..."

A ripple of shock spread across the hall. That was really Hayley on the line! She belonged to one of the most powerful and wealthy families, and her designs were in such high demand that many wealthy women would have given anything just for a chance to see her, let alone own one of her signature pieces.

On top of that, Hayley was known for keeping her distance from others. Yet judging by her tone, she and Brenna seemed to share a close friendship.

"They look close," someone whispered. "Hayley talks to Brenna like family."

Several guests exchanged stunned looks.

Felix stared at the screen, disbelief written all over him. He clearly remembered hearing that Brenna had grown up somewhere remote and obscure, with little access to high-end fashion, let alone being acquainted with a globally renowned chief designer.

Felix leaned toward Vincent and whispered, "Dude, can you believe this? That ugly-looking woman... I mean, Miss Fuller, actually knows Hayley!"

Vincent fixed his eyes on Brenna and lowered his voice as he muttered to himself, "She's hiding more than she lets on."

No one would call her beautiful, yet there was nothing dull about her gaze. Her eyes were clear and steady, and there was a quiet force in them that didn't belong to someone ordinary. Anyone who paid attention could tell she wasn't simple.

Facing her phone screen, Brenna spoke in an easy tone. "We can talk about meeting once you're back. I reached out today because someone handed me a dress and insisted it's one of your original designs."

Brenna's attention shifted to the gown Noreen was holding before she continued, "Since your name's attached to it, I figured you should see it yourself."

Confusion crossed Hayley's face. "Brenna, you're practically the one who taught me everything. Since when did you take an interest in my designs? If you hadn't walked me through things all those years, I wouldn't be where I am now."

These words felt like a hard slap across Sarah's and the others' faces.

Shock hit Noreen the worst. Her thoughts scattered, and she couldn't pull them back together. She had emptied her savings and begged for favors just to get Hayley to design a dress for her. She thought that piece would open doors into high society, but she never even got close because those dresses weren't for sale. And now, she was hearing that Brenna had shaped Hayley's designs and even acted as her mentor.

Keeping her composure, Brenna answered, "That's exactly why I need you to confirm it. I won't let anyone label a cheap knockoff as your work and drag your name through the mud."

With that, Brenna angled the camera toward Noreen. "This is my sister. She insists the gown she's holding came straight from your boutique."

Panic rushed through Noreen so fast that she felt her chest tighten. She hastily tried to slip the dress behind her back.

But it was too late. The camera had already caught it.

With just one glance, Hayley knew it wasn't her creation. She didn't even bother asking for a closer look to confirm it. "Seriously, where did that junk come from? The stitching's crooked enough to run in every direction, and the design's completely off. I've seen my cat claw up fabric that looks more put together than this."

Harsh laughter slipped from her lips as she added, "Brenna, how come you end up with a sister who is full of lies? If anyone's stupid enough to say that rag is my design, I'll make sure they regret it!"

At those words, the strength drained from Noreen's face. Darkness crowded her vision, and she swayed as if the ground had tilted beneath her.

Curiosity spread across the room, and people leaned closer to study the fake gown clutched in Noreen's hands before shifting their attention to what Brenna was wearing.

Whispers started to rise as sharp eyes picked up the contrast.

"That fabric Noreen's holding looks cheap."

"Hold on, isn't Miss Fuller's black dress the commemorative piece made for last year's design champion? There's only one in the world!"

"No wonder it seemed unfamiliar. I've only ever seen photos of it in magazines, and it was never put on the market."

"That gown on Brenna has to be worth over a million!"

Shock rippled through the crowd like a stone tossed into still water. Embarrassment crept up on those who had assumed Brenna showed up in something off the rack, and their earlier judgment now stung.

With a casual lift of her hand, Brenna said, "That's enough for today. We'll grab dinner once you're back."

"Deal. Just don't forget you owe me a feast!" Hayley replied before ending the call.

After lowering the phone, Brenna faced Noreen again. "Weren't you so confident that you bought it from an authorized boutique? If that's the case, then you're accusing Hayley of selling knockoffs under her own name."

Disbelief drained the color from Noreen's face, and her knees almost gave way beneath her. She still couldn't process it. Brenna knew Hayley personally, and the dress she wore was the championship piece everyone talked about.

"I... I must've made a mistake." Tears blurred Noreen's sight as her voice shook. "A friend helped me buy it. I really thought it was real. I never imagined I'd be fooled like this."

Annoyance flashed across Sarah's face as she moved forward. "Noreen didn't do it on purpose. Brenna, you're her older sister. Do you really have to push her this hard over one minor mistake?"

At that time, Sam Walsh, Brenna's father, hurried over.

Panic was written all over Sam once he heard what happened, and sweat gathered along his brow. "There's clearly some confusion here," he said quickly. "Brenna, your mother's right. It's only a dress. Why turn this into something bigger than it needs to be?"

In his eyes, Brenna was still the hick who knew nothing about high society. She must've borrowed that championship gown from someone else. The idea that she had guided Hayley's career was so absurd to him that he dismissed it as soon as he heard it. What mattered to him was the Walsh family's reputation. There was no way he'd let the Walsh name get dragged down.

A faint, almost bitter smile curved across Brenna's lips. "So now I'm the one stirring trouble."

Memories surfaced in her mind. After the family reunion last month, Sam had handed her a jewelry company drowning in debt and called it compensation. She'd accepted it with gratitude and poured her effort into turning it around. However, he brushed aside everything she accomplished and praised Noreen instead, saying the latter brought luck to the business.

As Brenna was lost in thought, Vincent stepped forward and placed himself in front of her. Calm confidence marked his expression, though a chill settled in his eyes. "I believe problems should be handled properly. Miss Walsh, since you unintentionally purchased a counterfeit, you can make amends in another way. That gown is valued at around eight hundred thousand. Please transfer the amount to Brenna now as a gesture of sincerity."

His words caught Brenna off guard. She hadn't expected him to stand beside her, especially with her scarred face on display. Not only did he show no sign of calling off their engagement, but he even stepped in to help her seek fair compensation. For a brief second, she wondered if he had some unusual taste when it came to appearances.