This... Is Harriet Goldlane?

Harriet's eyes narrowed at the familiar name.

Cecilia Morganite was better known as "The Crown Prince's Lover."

"So what?" asked Harriet.

"Madam, Cecilia Morganite launched her new fashion store after you left the capital. And all the products she puts out have become a trend for high fashion for women in the capital," replied the boutique owner.

Harriet didn't see where the problem was. "But isn't there always competition in the business world anyway? Why are you complaining?"

The boutique owner hesitated to convey it.

"Madam, whatever we do, it always fails. The woman twice and three times managed to release a product that we had just thought of and is still in the sketch phase. It's as if she's always a step or two ahead of us," the woman explained irritatedly.

Harriet tilted her head. She felt that it was very natural, considering that if someone were talented, they could come up with brilliant ideas faster than anyone.

But the boutique owner went further. Cecilia seemed to be able to predict what they would release next, and she would release it first. And every product she released would sell well. The problem was that they felt Cecilia could very accurately predict which products would sell well and which wouldn't.

In the end, most of their customers went to Cecilia's shop and left their shop. Cecilia targeted them because she seemed to steal all of their designs, even those they had planned for the following years.

Moreover, Cecilia's idea was the same as the sketch they used. However, this could have been more suspicious for them.

"It's like she can read the future for fashion trends in the next ten years. Can you imagine, Madam? Isn't this impossible?!" the boutique owner took a deep breath.

"No matter how genius a designer is, there are always misses and errors, but she keeps sailing smoothly from start to finish! If only we didn't have more connections and subscriptions, and if we didn't take orders for jewelry designs too, we'd probably be broke…"

Harriet was beginning to understand the designers' anxieties.

"We've been trying hard to develop new ideas lately, but many of our employees feel down. We thought of this idea spontaneously because we were annoyed at being targeted by that woman… but we were afraid that this idea would fail again, considering we have never tried to join the trend of designing clothes for men before," explained the boutique owner.

Harriet sighed and then nodded in understanding.

"Then how about we use the usual promotion strategy?" asked Harriet softly.

The boutique owner blinked and looked at Harriet with admiration. "Is Madam willing to help us?!"

Harriet chuckled. "I'll tell my friends to let their names be used for promotion. Tell every buyer that the high circle loves this model. I will also invest in this product release. Don't worry; you guys are talented and have worked hard. You will succeed sooner or later."

The boutique owner and the designers were delighted and cheered happily at Harriet's words. Harriet licked her lips and looked contentedly at the suit model on the mannequin.

She chuckled and recalled the old dream that had been buried deep in the corner of her heart. To become a designer. But that could only happen in an ideal world where Harriet grew up in a typical family that fully supported her passion.

Her hand slowly touched the tie collar, and she remembered something.

On their date, Liam wore a similar clothes model. Maybe because the man had lived for decades, he also had a collection of clothes from every changing trend.

With Liam's style of clothes and this long tie, Harriet felt Liam would be the most suitable model to show this suit.

"Pack ten of these long ties, with three gold colors, three light purple colors, two white, and two black," e Harriet told the shop owner. "I'll buy it as a gift for my husband."

The shop owner and everyone else in the boutique fell silent, including Sir Russel, who entered the shop with Harriet.

Even a man who had just entered the boutique was silent when he heard it.

Ezekiel was standing in the doorway, in a corner that Harriet couldn't see because of the thin cloth partition that divided the room. He furrowed his brows.

The crown prince decided to sit in a slightly hidden corner of the boutique's waiting room, but since the place was only separated by a thin screen of cloth and a few curtains, he could still hear everything.

"Let's distinguish the pattern too, not that one. Right, use that pattern." Harriet sounded busy, commanding the designers in a calm voice, but, for some reason, she sounded more excited than usual.

From between the screens, Ezekiel could see Harriet smiling a little wider than usual, and his brows furred together. He was surprised and felt that it was strange…

Just as the clerks were about to pack Harriet's order, the woman stopped them. "Wait, I will put a card in the box," said Harriet quickly.

The designers laughed merrily and teased Harriet. They were also surprised to see Harriet's sweet behavior that day. However, the man could see Harriet's expression facing the desk more clearly from the corner where Ezekiel's seat was.

Harriet wrote something confidently but slowly, as if with special care. Then, Ezekiel saw Harriet's expression once more.

THUMP.

Ezekiel's heart seemed to stop.

Harriet looked down with a slight blush. The woman's gaze was hot, misty, and naughty. Harriet's finger went up to her face, touching her slightly opened lips and tongue. Then sensually, Harriet licked her finger… like licking something else.

Ezekiel almost gasped.

He… forgot to breathe, looking at her.

…Harriet Goldlane, the impeccably molded soulless woman…

What kind of expression was that?

Why did he suddenly feel something rising… in his crotch?

Ezekiel was still rooted to his spot as he watched Harriet suddenly called by the boutique owner. He watched as all the lewd expressions the woman gave off silently vanished like an illusion as she turned to look at the others.

The woman went to be consulted about the new model they had discusse. Harriet left the card she had written on the table above the box of ties she had chosen as a gift for her husband.

Ezekiel quietly got up and reached for the card where Harriet had written her message. His irises wavered as Harriet's handwriting looked intense and flirtatious; it read,

[I heard that Lycans like to tie their spouses to the bed. Milord will probably like my present.

Your Madam, Harriet.]

The Crown Prince swallowed his saliva forcefully.

This… was Harriet Goldlane?