So that's where the rumors about Young Master Davenport being a womanizer came from. On second thought, it makes sense. Alaric Davenport also runs his own company, and everyone calls him Mr. Davenport.
They're both from the Davenport family. The older sister marries the older brother, the younger sister marries the younger brother... it's not entirely out of the question...
"Among us girls, what's Young Master Davenport's type?"
"He goes by feeling. 'Types' are just for show."
"So that's why Young Master Davenport isn't into us. He only likes influencers and celebrities."
Influencers, celebrities...
"My future sister-in-law's type isn't bad, though."
"So, does that mean we still have a chance?"
A sudden idea sparked in Faye Lowell's mind, and she let out a cold laugh. 'I just can't stand being inferior to Rosalind Lowell. I thought I was going to marry some old man, but who knew my fiancé would be this handsome? I have to ruin her.'
...
Rosalind Lowell was in her room when a knock came at the door.
"You are...?" Rosalind Lowell asked, looking at a woman dressed in a maid's uniform.
"Mr. Davenport sent me to take you to the wardrobe to try on an evening gown."
Rosalind Lowell was taken aback. 'There's a wardrobe on this massive cruise ship?'
The level of luxury here was beyond anything she could have imagined.
"Alright."
Rosalind Lowell pulled the door closed and followed the maid.
A fashionably dressed person looked her up and down, their stare making her extremely uncomfortable. She stood there stiffly, not knowing what to do.
Suddenly, the person snapped their fingers. "Bring me that red rose haute couture piece."
Rosalind Lowell slipped into the knee-length cocktail dress. Its skirt flared out like a blooming rose, complete with the texture of petals. The spaghetti strap design revealed just a hint of cleavage, creating a look that was elegant with a touch of sexy.
Her usual style was prim and proper, elegant and ladylike. This new look created a stark contrast, and she was a little surprised when she saw her own reflection.
'From the moment I boarded the ship, everything has felt like a dream. I'm enjoying it so much, but I'm also terrified I'll wake up.'
"Miss Lowell, Mr. Davenport and the others are inside."
Rosalind Lowell nodded, and a servant opened the door.
Every eye in the room turned to her.
She gripped her clutch tightly, trying to channel her nervousness elsewhere.
'Rosalind, Rosalind,' she told herself, 'just put on your professional business-dinner face.'
She took a breath and put on a faint smile, doing her best to appear poised and graceful. In reality, her heart was hammering in her chest.
As she drew closer, Skylar Morrison simply offered her a handsome smile and a nod, a silent greeting.
But his scorching, appreciative gaze was in stark contrast to his gentle and refined posture.
Beside him, Alaric Davenport was also visibly startled when he first saw her, though he was the quickest of the group to compose himself. He merely furrowed his brow slightly, gave her dress another glance, and then shifted to the side, patting the seat next to him.
One of the men in the group was the first to speak. "Wow, she's gorgeous. No wonder our Mr. Davenport, who's been immune to charm and uninterested in women for a lifetime, has fallen for someone. Now I see why."
Rosalind Lowell sat down, gave everyone a polite smile, and said softly, "I hope I'm not intruding."
"Not at all. You two are the main event today," another man said.
She did a quick scan of the room. Besides Alaric Davenport and Skylar Morrison, she hadn't spoken to the other three men and one woman present.
"She's a bit shy. Don't scare her," Alaric Davenport said, taking the hand that rested on her lap.
A warmth spread from his touch, but it still made her flinch. Her fingers twitched, but his large, warm palm enveloped them securely.
She remembered what Alaric Davenport had said earlier—that they had to present a united front in public—and slowly began to relax.
Among the other three men, one watched her with keen interest, saying nothing...