Face Slap

The most intriguing thing about Sabrina Voss' reality shows was that they were streamed live. If anyone made a blunder, there was no way to edit it out.

This particular stream was planned for three hours — a lighthearted event featuring minor competitions, quizzes, and family interactions to keep things engaging.

After setting up the camera, Sabrina began her interview with the family. Only close relatives — aunts, uncles, and about twenty family members — had been invited.

"Rosaline, you look stunning in that dress," one of the guests remarked.

"My Rosie always had excellent taste in fashion," Scarlette Whites chimed in proudly. "Even when she was little, she used to design her own dresses. In our industry, even top fashion designers have praised her style. Some even admit they get inspiration from her work."

"Mother, don't embarrass me!" Rosaline said shyly, lowering her gaze in feigned modesty.

"Scarlette is right," another guest from the Whites family added eagerly. "Rosaline's sense of fashion is impeccable. Expensive clothing isn't always the best clothing — it's about finding what complements your personality. And Rosaline always does that perfectly."

Sabrina Voss smiled thinly, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. The conversation had strayed far from the purpose of her show. She wasn't here to feature Rosaline — she was here for Jazmine Harrison, the newly appointed President of Tiang Enterprise and wife of David Anderson. Ever since her high-profile wedding, Jazmine had become a rising star in the social scene — Sabrina knew her audience wanted her.

"What about Jazmine Harrison?" Sabrina interrupted, steering the conversation back on track. "She's now managing Tang Corporates. It must be difficult for her to keep up with fashion while juggling such a busy schedule."

"Oh, her?" Scarlette scoffed, waving her hand dismissively. "That girl's always been hopeless with fashion. Since childhood, it's been Rosaline who dressed her. Without my daughter's guidance, Jazmine wouldn't know how to put two colors together."

A few other women joined in, eager to pile on the criticism.

"She's always in those bright, blinding colors — so garish!"

"Her style is too loud. Sure, her clothes are expensive, but they're tasteless."

"Well," one woman whispered with mock sympathy, "the poor child grew up motherless. With no one to guide her, what else can you expect?"

"And she's been spoiled by her grandfather," Scarlette added smugly. "She never listened to my advice, no matter how kind I was."

"Wait till she comes down," another guest chuckled. "I bet she's in something eye-searingly bright. You'll see her terrible taste for yourself."

Sabrina Voss clenched her teeth. This wasn't what she'd expected at all. From what she'd gathered while researching Jazmine, the woman didn't seem the least bit dull or foolish. Something about her gave Sabrina the sense that there was more beneath the surface.

Moments later, Jazmine Harrison appeared at the top of the grand staircase, accompanied by Amelia.

The room quieted.

Jazmine's slender, white hand glided down the railing, the golden accents on the banister creating a perfect contrast against her pale skin. Her strapless blue cocktail dress shimmered elegantly under the lights, hugging her figure in all the right places. An intricate diamond necklace sparkled at her collarbone, paired with a delicate bracelet that completed the look.

Her hair, cascading in soft curls over her right shoulder, framed her face with effortless grace. Each step she took in her mid-length blue heels was slow and deliberate — poised, flawless.

The room — and the camera — remained fixed on her.

"Isn't that from Frank's latest winter collection?" someone whispered.

"It is! The one from Amelia Boutiques! I tried to get my hands on that dress last month, but it wasn't for sale yet!"

"Only a handful of elite clients received it before the official launch," another chimed in. "How did Jazmine get one?"

The murmurs swelled.

Gone were the whispers of her bad taste — now they gawked at her in awe.

"She sure knows how to dress well," someone muttered in admiration.

"It must be Rosaline who picked the dress for her," Sarah Whites sneered. "Everyone knows Jazmine's terrible fashion sense."

They all thought the same.

Rosaline barely masked her growing frustration. Her fingers curled into fists as she realized Jazmine's effortless elegance had stolen the spotlight. She knew firsthand how beautiful Jazmine was — that's why she'd spent years sabotaging her, tricking her into wearing gaudy, garish outfits.

Just as Jazmine reached the bottom of the stairs, she turned — deliberately — and approached Rosaline.

Grabbing Rosaline's hands, Jazmine's face shifted into an expression of remorse.

"Little sister…" Jazmine's voice trembled, and her eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I'm so sorry."

Her voice was soft — heartbreakingly genuine.

"I was admiring the dress you gifted me," Jazmine continued tearfully, "showing it to Amelia... and she accidentally spilled juice on it."

Gasps rippled across the room.

"I really wanted to wear it," Jazmine sniffled. "After all, you picked it for me with so much love. But... Amelia wouldn't let me."

A wave of sympathy washed through the guests. Those who had assumed Rosaline picked the stunning dress now understood the truth — the dress she wore wasn't picked by Rosaline.

"It's alright," Rosaline muttered, yanking her hands away. Her cold response didn't go unnoticed — several guests exchanged questioning glances.

"I'm so sorry to hear that," Sabrina Voss said thoughtfully. "The dress must have been beautiful. Everyone here was just praising Rosaline's fine taste. Perhaps we could show it to our audience?"

Rosaline's face paled.

Even Scarlette Whites shifted uncomfortably.

"There's no need," Scarlette jumped in quickly. "Now that it's ruined, there's no point in bringing it out."

"Oh, but it's still quite presentable," Amelia chimed in sweetly. "Jazmine was insisting on wearing it. I'll ask the maid to bring it down."

Scarlette's face twisted. Rosaline's fingers dug painfully into her palms.