The Divorced Heiress’s Revenge

The chilly night breeze carried an ominous tension, swirling between them like a looming threat.

Upon seeing Justin's arrival, Christopher's expression shifted dramatically from joy to solemnity.

"Bella, you're here?" Mrs. Iverson's eyes lit up with tender affection, wishing she could rise from her wheelchair to greet her.

Bella's remarkable beauty has always left a lasting impression on Mrs. Iverson, even to the point where she sometimes struggled to recognize her own son but never failed to identify Bella instantly. Mrs. Iverson genuinely cherished Bella, unable to conceal her affection.

"Hello, Mrs. Iverson," Bella greeted politely, bowing respectfully.

Justin stood by Bella's side, encircling his arm around her waist, his gaze sharp and unwavering as he observed Christopher's every move.

"Bella, who is this?" Mrs. Iverson looked puzzled, glancing uncertainly at Justin's impassive face and instinctively reaching for Christopher's sleeve.

Bella was about to speak, her gaze fixed on her partner's handsome side profile.

But before she could, Christopher adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses and said with a smile, "Bella, what a coincidence to run into you here. Are you going on a trip, too?"

Throughout the interaction, he engaged solely with Bella, completely disregarding Justin's presence.

you think I'd be

frosty tone, refusing to entertain Christopher even in front of

well the extent of the schemes you've orchestrated and the bloodshed you caused. With Maxwell still roaming freely and my brother and Justin's vendetta unresolved,

he gazed into his partner's starry

don't understand," Mrs. Iverson

that you don't understand, because I don't

sinister nature. "Bella, who is this Maxwell guy?

Justin's chest,

South Island, when they were trying to capture Winston,

Christopher, the mastermind behind it all, shamelessly portraying himself as an innocent person and offering him his assistance. Assistance in meeting a swift

felt the hand supporting her waist tremble with

heavy with the desire to vent her frustrations for him, her brother, sister, and

was not the right time. Indulging in momentary verbal satisfaction was

heavy price for

we leave now?" Mrs. Iverson's

years, her son sheltered her indoors, making her delicate and sensitive to the slightest chill. Though it was almost fall, the temperature in Savrow was still far from cold, whether