I Made His Wife’s Dress Now I’ll Marry Another Chapter 11
My father snapped, “It’s just a dress. Must you make a scene in a hospital?”
“A dress?” I laughed, the sound brittle. “Of Whitmore’s fourteen best-selling silhouettes over the last six years, nine came from master patterns I drafted before I left.”
Sabine clutched at her chest, her breathing growing ragged.
My father immediately put a hand on her shoulder. “She’s not well. Will you only be satisfied when you’ve driven her to her grave?”
“Because she’s not well, she gets to use my life to keep herself going?”
“Clara!”
I turned to Adrian. “Your wife is your responsibility. Take care of her. And don’t let her touch my work again while hiding behind the title of my sister.”
Sobbing, Sabine threw herself into Adrian’s arms.
He caught her, but his gaze went over her shoulder and locked onto me.
“Enough,” he said.
I nodded. “Yes. It is.”