Wed To The Forbidden Uncle

CH 5

Before her nervousness could make her stop breathing, the tie was finally done.

Mercy stood up, her face flushed red and took a few deep breaths.

Dexter looked at her gently for a moment, then turned to the mirror. "Thank you, Mercy. I really like it."

"Hehe, as long as you like it, mister," Mercy said, happier like if she had received a gift herself.

Gavin, standing nearby, watched this scene unfold and thought to himself how charming the boss was. The old flame was burning bright indeed.

After the manager arrived, Gavin informed him that the Walker family wanted to acquire the store. The manager was overjoyed and immediately agreed, instructing someone to draft a contract. Getting involved with the Walker family was like hitting the jackpot!

The female clerk, seeing this, was so scared her legs went weak. She quickly approached Mercy and apologized in a low voice, "I'm sorry, miss. My attitude was wrong earlier, I..."

Before she could finish, the manager walked over and slapped her. "You dare offend Mr. Dexter's people? Are you trying to ruin me?"

"Boss, I..." The clerk's face was swollen on one side, looking somewhat ridiculous.

She was used to flattering the powerful and stepping on the weak, but who would have thought that a girl who looked like an ordinary high school student would have such a strong background?

Ten minutes later, Dexter handed the freshly signed contract to Mercy. "From now on, this store is yours."

Mercy took it, a bit dazed, not understanding how a trip to buy a tie ended with owning an entire store.

Then Dexter casually added, "Oh, and I don't like that clerk. Let's fire her."

The clerk's face turned pale and she wanted to plead further, but the two of them walked out the door without giving her another glance.

The two of them went out for dinner again and Dexter invited Mercy to accompany him to a banquet this weekend. Mercy happily agreed.

The Rivers family was also invited to this event. The day before the banquet, Zara joyfully tried on the custom-made dress Michelle had ordered for her—a pure white off-the-shoulder ball gown.

She twirled twice in front of Mercy, lifting the hem slightly like a proud little swan.

"Sis, this is the new dress Mom had made for me. Isn't it beautiful?"

Mercy, sitting on the couch with a book, glanced up at her. The dress was nice, but unfortunately, Zara's slightly short neck and broad shoulders were highlighted by it. However, Mercy wasn't about to tell her that, so she just gave a nonchalant "Hmm."

Zara, dissatisfied with her reaction, raised her voice a bit, "Oh, did Mom forget to get a dress for you?"

Michelle overheard and walked over, casting an unhappy glance at Mercy. "You're representing the Rivers family. No one knows her, so any dress will do."

Though Zara was mistakenly raised as the Rivers' daughter, they had invested in her for eighteen years. Music, chess, calligraphy, social etiquette—none of these came cheap, so they weren't about to abandon her.

When Mercy returned, the Rivers couple announced that she was the orphaned daughter of a deceased friend they had adopted. This way, they gained a good reputation while preserving Zara's status—a win-win situation.

Zara's eyes darted around. "I have a dress from last year that I barely wore. Why not let my sister wear it?"

The truth was, the dress was hideous, which is why it had been buried at the bottom of her closet.

Zara went to the wardrobe and pulled out a dull, wrinkled long dress, tossing it at Mercy like a handout.

"Go try it on, sis. It suits you."

Mercy held the dress, which looked like a crumpled prune and laughed in disbelief. She shot Zara a mocking look, "Your taste is truly something else."

Before Zara could react, the doorbell rang and Sabrina went to answer it.

"Is this Mercy's residence?" asked a polite man standing at the door.

Sabrina replied, "Yes, it is."

"Great, I'm from Phoenix Pavilion, here to deliver a dress for Mercy," the man said as he stepped inside. He opened the garment bag he was carrying, revealing a beautifully crafted, smooth red gown.

Phoenix Pavilion was a top-tier dress brand in China, catering to elite families and A-list celebrities. Most people had to book six months in advance to get an appointment.

Michelle, standing nearby, commented, "Could this be from Mr. Dexter?"

Zara's eyes lit up. She walked over and reached out to take the dress. "Hand it over," she said with a casual tone, exuding an inexplicable sense of superiority.

The man smiled politely and asked, "Are you Miss Mercy?"

"What? Mercy?" Zara's hand awkwardly froze in mid-air.

Mercy guessed that the dress might have been sent by her uncle, so she walked over cheerfully. "I'm Mercy."

Zara, who had been so haughty a moment ago, felt her face burn with embarrassment. She shot Mercy a glare and sat back on the sofa, fuming.

The man respectfully handed the dress to Mercy. "Please try it on, Miss Mercy. If there's anything that doesn't fit, I can take it back for adjustments."

"Alright, please have a seat and wait a moment," Mercy said as she turned and headed to her room.

A few minutes later, Mercy stepped out wearing the red dress. She hadn't noticed before, but the dress had intricate silver patterns that shimmered like a flowing galaxy with every movement. It was breathtakingly beautiful.

The dress fit perfectly and the man who brought it simply left after ensuring it did.

In comparison to Mercy's fiery red dress, Zara's plain white outfit seemed utterly dull and lifeless.

Zara's eyes burned with jealousy as she confronted Mercy, "Mercy, where did you get that dress? Did some old man buy it for you?"

"Only someone with a dirty mind would think that, Zara. What's going on in that head of yours? I'm going to be my boss's date tomorrow and he sent it over. Are you jealous?"

"Hmph, what an ugly dress, all red and flashy!" Zara huffed, unable to hide her envy and stormed off with her gray dress in hand.

...

On the day of the banquet, Dexter sent someone to pick up Mercy for her styling session. As fate would have it, when she entered the salon, she immediately spotted Zara, who seemed busy chatting with someone else.

Mercy hadn't been seated long before her makeup artist appeared. He was a man in his forties with a refined demeanor. After exchanging greetings, he began working on Mercy's makeup.

"Your skin is amazing. I only need to apply a thin layer of foundation," he praised, unable to hide his admiration for her flawless complexion.

He loved Mercy's face; it was perfect and required little enhancement.

"Thank you, I appreciate it," Mercy replied with a smile that seemed to outshine even the most beautiful flowers.