At this moment, Martha was actually standing under the booth.

She was wearing the latest Dior red dress of her own, looking at Joyce, who was on the stand at the moment. Her entire face was distorted, full of embarrassment, and the flame of jealousy almost burned her out. Obviously, she should be the one standing on the stand, enjoying everyone's envy and jealousy. Obviously, it was a custom-made dress for her, but at the moment it was on Joyce.

It's her own fault that she didn't bother to open the email for the day they had sent her, and she insisted on wearing the clothes she brought without even giving a glance at the custom-made dress. It was also her own fault that she looked down upon everyone in the dressing room and turned off her cell phone on purpose so that they could not find her. The idea was that she would make a grand show up when they were at their wits’ end.

Who knew they would let Joyce replace her.

Since she was a child, she had been in the limelight, and her parents had raised her with everything they had, and whatever she wanted, they would immediately deliver to her. The fact that there was nothing she could not get except for Luther was exactly why she was relentlessly pestering him.

Martha was really angry at this moment.

She felt suffocating.

else one day. Feeling that the stage was taken away from her, feeling that she

stood under the booth, in a fiery red floor-length gown,

up to the

as

waved a hand at her and shouted, "Miss Joyce, please look this

her head and looked over with her crystal beautiful eyes. She looked at the flashing red dot next to the camera, and her fiery lips blossomed with a smile as sweet as a spring

However, the next moment.

then pulled into a warm

almost

you

ears and close one eye. Her eardrums felt like they were going to

a hard time

she sneaked a

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