Chapter 384 Catherine Got Herself a Sidekick
"Ms. Windsor is a shareholder of Quinn Couture, isn't she?" Emma said, twirling her fork before taking a generous bite of spaghetti.
After an entire afternoon of playing the obedient young lady beside her mother and Aurora, her cheeks felt frozen from all the polite smiling.
"I remember, on my birthday, Ms. Windsor gave me a Quinn Couture dress. Simon Miller delivered it himself, said Ms. Windsor insisted."
A dress personally delivered by Simon Miller. From Quinn Couture. A custom piece.
It was the kind of gesture that made Emma's social standing soar.
The memory alone sent a thrill through her.
Philip stared at her, eyes wide. "What? Catherine is a shareholder of Quinn Couture?!"
Catherine gave a calm nod. "Yes."
In truth, Quinn Couture had only a handful of shareholders. Anyone who dug into the records would see Catherine owned eighty percent. The rest belonged to members of the Galactic Aurora Collective.
Charles was the first to connect the dots. "That time Quinn Couture came to negotiate with the Windsor Group, offering to give up thirty percent of their cut for the group—was that you?"
"It was. My family buys all my clothes from Quinn Couture. Giving a rebate to the mall doesn't hurt."
If she was honest, the money Quinn Couture made these days either bore the Windsor name or the Howard name.
Every time Catherine thought about the profits cycling back into her own pocket, she felt a twinge of guilt.
Quinn Couture's revenue dominated the entire luxury floor, and yet they still offered the mall a generous cut. Charles had found it odd at the time.
Now he understood.
"That explains it." His face softened with relief and a kind of quiet pride. He picked up his phone and called his secretary. "From now on, waive Quinn Couture's store fees. And the Windsor Group will decline their dividends."
"Yes, Mr. Windsor."
Catherine opened her mouth to protest, but Charles was quicker, his voice warm and unyielding. "What kind of brother makes money off his own sister? If it's yours, I can rest easy."
Quinn Couture's success spoke for itself. At least it proved Catherine's recent years hadn't been all hardship.
Philip still looked stunned. "Why didn't you say Quinn Couture was yours? I've been giving you their dresses as gifts—what a fool I must have looked!"
As a shareholder, Catherine would know every piece in the store.
Philip groaned and covered his face.
Catherine's voice was gentle. "It's fine, Philip. I like them."
And she meant it. Her designs always started from one simple rule—she had to love them herself.
Aurora reached out and cupped Catherine's cheek, her eyes full of quiet affection. "You're amazing, Catherine. You must have gone through so much. How did you and Emma meet?"
Emma was several years older than Catherine, yet she spoke of her with such respect. Aurora's curiosity was piqued.
Emma rested her chin on her hand, a small smile playing on her lips. "Back when Ms. Windsor's grandmother opened a tiny breakfast shop, I had no money. I ate the cheapest sandwich every day."
The Kate family was infamous for their cold-blooded way of raising children. Even in middle and high school, they gave no extra allowance, letting their kids fend for themselves.
Oliver refused to pay child support for Catherine and often cut her living expenses. Elodie wanted her granddaughter to eat better, so she opened a small breakfast shop.
Every morning, Emma passed by with her schoolbag, buying the cheapest sandwich she could find—enough to last her the whole day.
"One day, I found meat in my sandwich. I thought it was a mistake and felt secretly lucky."
That was also the day a group cornered her in a dark hallway.
Ingrid, another daughter of the Kate family, always had a pack of followers.
A bucket of filthy water from the drain was dumped over Emma's head. Laughter rang out like a pack of hyenas.
One of them taunted, "And you think you can compete with Ms. Ingrid Kate for the inheritance? Look at you!"
Ingrid gripped Emma's chin, her voice dripping with mockery. "Do you think the Kate family would let someone who eats shit become an heir?"
Emma's heart sank.
Then, from the bathroom doorway, came a voice—cool and sharp as glass.
"What are you doing? Bullying?"
This was the best school in the area, but no one dared cross the Kate family. Even the teachers looked the other way.
"Mind your own business!"
Catherine's gaze fell on the drenched Emma. Her tone was calm. "Do you think I'm meddling?"
"You? You should go. They're not good people—they'll hurt you!"
The younger Catherine shook her head. "I just want to know—do you need help?"
Emma's eyes lit up for a heartbeat, then dimmed again. "You can't stop them..."
"Do you need help?"
Something in Catherine's steady eyes broke through Emma's fear. Against all logic, she nodded.
In that instant, she believed the frail-looking girl could save her.
And she did.
The jeers turned to screams.
Catherine had Ingrid's head pinned to the floor, her face pressed into the filthy water. Her voice was steady, almost bored. "Anything else you want to try? She was about to dunk your head in the toilet."
"No! That's enough! Were you… looking for me?"
Catherine nodded. "Yes. My grandmother asked me to bring you home for dinner."
Home? Dinner?
"Come on. She knows you can't get full on one sandwich a day. No charge. Just help clean the shop as payment."
That was when Emma realized the sandwich with meat hadn't been a mistake—it was Elodie, who had noticed she was going hungry.
Emma burst into tears.
Wearing Catherine's jacket, she stepped out of the bathroom, glancing back at Ingrid's furious, humiliated face.
She caught up to Catherine. "Can you teach me?"
"What do you want to learn?"
"The way you fought them. I want to learn. I want to protect myself."
Catherine stopped, her voice casual. "Just to protect yourself?"
Emma hesitated, then clenched her fists. "I want to prove I'm the strongest."
Catherine smiled faintly, turning away. "If you can handle the work, follow me."
Looking back now, Emma felt a rush of emotion. "From that day on, I stayed with Ms. Windsor. Without her and her grandmother, I probably would've starved. I wouldn't be who I am today.
"It was Ms. Windsor who taught me I wasn't meant to drift aimlessly, but to stand like a rock — to climb onto the shoulders of giants and rise above the cowards."
Aurora was quietly moved.
Philip's gaze toward Emma shifted. "You've had it rough. But meeting Catherine—that was your luck."
Emma arched a brow, teasing. "Oh? Starting to feel sorry for me? Why not marry me, then?"
"You're insane."
"Is that all Mr. Windsor has in his insult arsenal? Pathetic."
Aurora watched them bicker, shaking her head. "You two really are like oil and water. Emma, stay here. Treat it like home."
Philip and Emma spoke at once. "No way!"
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