Chapter 365 Nobody Gets Quinn Couture Like Catherine
They had come hoping to take advantage.
But instead of walking away with a profit, they had lost Lika.
This was not how it was supposed to go.
Catherine's voice was calm, almost casual. "Philip, having one more child in our household is no big deal. But human traffickers should still be caught. Otherwise, it's dangerous to let them roam free."
"You're right, Catherine."
Philip agreed without hesitation. With people like this, you had to show your teeth.
Across the table, the middle-aged woman began to panic. "Mr. Windsor, you're a lawyer. How can you knowingly break the law? Lika is our child. She has nothing to do with you!"
"Your child is registered under Catherine's name," Philip said evenly. "That makes her Catherine's child. Which means you're traffickers."
One moment they were parents. The next, they were criminals.
And it was entirely their own doing.
Philip rose to his feet. "You have three days. If this isn't resolved by then, you can spend the next few years in prison."
The cold finality in Catherine and Philip's eyes made the couple collapse back onto the bench.
The man's face twisted with confusion and rage. He swung a hand across the woman's cheek. "Lika—whose child is she? Mine or Ash's?"
"Of course she's yours…"
The more he thought about it, the angrier he became, pouring all the humiliation from Catherine and Philip's presence onto the woman beside him. He began shouting and striking her right there in the booth.
Catherine arched a brow at the commotion behind her. "Philip, Gabriella's case—do you think we have a shot at winning?"
"We didn't before. Now we do. And you know who I am—this is nothing."
"Why was their child's identity registered under my name?"
Philip ran a hand through her hair, a faint sigh in his voice. "It happens more often than you'd think. Just last month I handled several cases like it. Clerks take bribes, assume no one will notice, and push the paperwork through."
They had never imagined such a thing would happen to Catherine.
Philip lifted his phone. "Want me to drop you home? I need to stop by the firm."
"No need. I'm meeting Charles for dinner. I'll just head to his office."
The Evergreen Group was nearby. He dropped her off there before hurrying away to meet his client.
Outside the Quinn Couture boutique, a teenage girl stood with several shopping bags, glaring at Simon.
"I'm a paying customer. Who are you to tell me I can't shop here?"
"Apologies, miss," Simon replied with a professional smile. "Quinn Couture only serves clients with appointments."
"Then I'll make one right now."
"Of course. And when you come back on that date, we'll be happy to assist you."
"If I make an appointment now, I might not even bother showing up."
Simon rolled his eyes internally. Everyone knew Quinn Couture's rules. New collections sold out almost instantly. The only items left in the showroom were display pieces and custom orders for top clients.
Lyra, bristling at the refusal, clenched her jaw along with her friends. Then she spotted someone behind them—Catherine.
Simon's eyes lit up. She was here. And she had brought the latest designs.
"Ms. Windsor, this way, please." He bowed slightly, his smile almost glowing.
Catherine stepped inside without hurry. "Bring me the current best-sellers. I want to see them."
"Of course. And your favorite desserts are ready."
Lyra tugged on the sleeve of her friend. "Thora, did you see that? They're totally looking down on you. This is ridiculous."
Thora White, the wealthiest among Lyra's friends, tilted her chin and strode in. The White family's fortune was made overseas, and Thora had grown up pampered abroad.
She planted herself in front of Catherine, who was lifting a teacup, and said, "You. Get up. I want that seat."
Without looking up, Catherine blew a stray tea leaf from the surface. "Where's the tea I had before?"
"Gone. This is from Alkaid—their latest rare tea. About a hundred thousand dollars per batch. Nothing too crazy. Please enjoy."
Quinn Couture belonged entirely to Catherine. If she wanted, she could have Simon brew the tea himself.
Thora's lips tightened at being ignored. "I'm going to file a complaint."
"Of course," Simon said smoothly. "Exit to the left. Ask for the manager."
Complain about Catherine in her own store? And in a mall where she owned shares? Every manager here knew her by sight.
"Ms. Windsor's purchases have reached our SVIP tier," Simon added. "That's why she has her own afternoon tea service. If you'd like the same, Quinn Couture would be happy to accommodate."
Thora scoffed. "How much do I have to spend to be SVIP? Whatever she's bought, pack it all for me."
"Six hundred million dollars in total," Simon said pleasantly. "Card or cash?"
Catherine's brow lifted slightly. Simon had plucked the number from thin air. Most likely, the warehouse needed to clear out unsold prototypes and display samples.
Thora stumbled back a step. "W-what? Why so much?"
"You see, Ms. Windsor's entire wardrobe is under our care," Simon explained. "That's just her own spending—not counting gifts others have bought for her. The showroom isn't fully stocked right now, but we can have pieces brought in from storage. It's all part of our service."
He stepped forward, card reader in hand, the screen already filled with zeros. Thora's vision swam. Spending that much would have her family disown her.
"If you can't afford it, that's fine," Simon said with a faintly mocking smile. "We don't force anyone to shop. But without an appointment, and after insulting our SVIP client, we'll have to ask you to leave. We look forward to serving you next time—with a booking."
Thora's expression hardened. "You don't understand Quinn Couture at all! Quinn's designs are meant to inspire the world, not to line someone's pockets!"
Catherine's brow lifted in the faintest arch. She had founded Quinn Couture for one purpose only—to bankroll Galactic Aurora Collective's research. Lofty ideals had never been part of the deal.
Simon let out a short, amused laugh. "Trust me, miss—no one on this planet understands Quinn Couture better than Ms. Windsor."
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