The Divorced Heiress’s Revenge

Early in the morning, a vibrant red sports car smoothly came to a halt and parked in front of the lounge.

Yvonne emerged from the car, showcasing her elegant and toned legs. She was dressed in a stylish black fishtail gown that highlighted her curvy figure. Her delicate high heels sparkled in the dark, exuding an air of confidence that could captivate any onlooker.

A man promptly emerged from the shadows. "Ms. Smith, he's still inside. I've been watching him."

Yvonne's eyes were as cold as the moon as she gracefully used her left hand to gather her shiny black hair, effortlessly slipping a silver hairpin with a ruby into place with her right.

Her movements were smooth and alluring, leaving her henchmen completely captivated by her beauty. "You stay here and prepare for whatever happens next."

...

In the lounge, the flickering shadow gave off a captivating vibe.

Yvonne clenched her teeth as she navigated through the lively crowd, her gaze fixed solely on Drew, who was seated at the edge of the bar.

As she approached him, her heart raced faster, and all the noise around her seemed to fade away as if she had entered a strange, dreamlike world. Yvonne raised her hand to fix her elegantly tousled hair.

Tonight, she was going to kill him by using this hairpin, her most treasured possession.

After a moment, Yvonne stood behind Drew.

Just as her delicate hand was about to touch the man's shoulder, she suddenly felt a sharp pain in her wrist, and everything around her started spinning!

"Ahh!"

heavily against the table, the sudden pain making it hard for her to

of

simply a

her delicate wrist as his other

had encountered his fair share of assassination attempts from enemies. His years of living

Yvonne was pinned down by him. Her face turned red from suffocation, and tears were glistening at the

"It... It's you?"

and

heavily, and

happening, but they assumed it was just a couple arguing, so they dared

good-looking, but he's such an asshole. How dare

own business. If they want to fight, let them be. It's none of our

heard the whispers,

and struggled to

but the pain in her back made her unable to stand

it's an occupational

around her waist, lifting her off

her fragile arms tentatively surrounding his lean, strong frame. Their breath mingled warmly, stirring something