Chapter 10

“Yuna is getting hitched, but what’s that got to do with me? Do I even share any mutual friends with Yuna?” Marguerite pondered, then a thought

struck her.

Could Yuna’s fiancé be Hanley? That greasy, pudgy guy! You gotta admit, Yuna and Hanley are a match made in heaven. They are both trash!

At that thought, Marguerite chuckled softly, looking at Yuna with amusement, “Sorry, I got zero interest in your love life.”

Yuna had put in so much effort to get a rise out of Marguerite, but Marguerite wasn’t taking the bait. It was like Yuna was shooting herself in the foot. She ground her teeth in frustration, nearly bursting with anger, “Marguerite, let me tell you, my husband is…”

“Yuna!” Marguerite cut her off sharply, “You’re engaged, not married. You sure the end game will play out like you planned?”

Yuna was left speechless, her mind a blank canvas.

“If I were you, I’d stick with him till the end. Not like you, flaunting around before anything’s set in stone. If things don’t work out, you will be embarrassing yourself.”

Yuna failed to achieve her goal, and her hatred for Marguerite grew. But she took Marguerite’s words to heart.

Frederick had indeed proposed, but something or someone had messed up the final step, leaving her in a state of limbo.

to her. She didn’t have

her dad to find

Marguerite a cold glare, and threatened arrogantly, “Marguerite, this isn’t over. Just you wait. When I marry into a rich family, I’ll have

wait,” Marguerite replied with a smirk. Her eyes filled with disdain for

Yuna, who flaunted at every opportunity, was nothing more

the President of

sat in his plush chair, eyes half–closed, twirling a scent strip under his nose. His

young

strip and tossed it

smell in a car accident. He’d had numerous secret check–ups abroad, but no cause was found. His doctors suggested it could be

that have stuck with you? If you think about it, you might realize that you could actually

he seemed to have caught a faint scent. It was a subtle fragrance that was easy to miss, but thinking back, that scent seemed to linger at the tip of

“I think…”

therapy session. He immediately

another assistant carrying a

perfume design competition. The perfumes on the tray

perfume design competition has ended. These are the finalists. Please review them,” Chuck gave a nod to the assistant, who set the tray down on the coffee

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