The Divorced Heiress’s Revenge

"Is it Ms. Bethany Salvador?"

In a foreign land, hearing her native language made Bethany slowly stop crying. She lifted her tear-soaked, swollen face.

The man before her was dressed impeccably in a suit but was completely unfamiliar to her.

"How do you know me?"

Bethany suddenly kneeled before him, devoid of dignity, clasping her hands together as she wept and pleaded, "Are you... Are you someone my father sent to help me? Please... Take me back to Savrow. I can't stay in this hellhole for another day! I'm sick-very sick! If I don't get treatment, I won't survive! How could my father abandon his own daughter to die?!"

The man remained expressionless. "I'm sorry, Ms. Salvador, but I'm not sent by your father."

Bethany slumped back down, her expression a mix of disappointment and despair.

"However, someone does want to see you."

car. As the car door opened, the first thing she saw was a pair of expensive

glanced down at her own ragged clothes, feeling a wave of shame. She instinctively shrank back. Those high heels were from a brand she

her courage, Bethany

white coat. Her delicate, smiling features exuded a warm, comforting presence. Bethany felt an instant surge of goodwill toward her. "Hello, Ms. Salvador, it's a pleasure to meet you," the woman said

her hand, tears inexplicably welled up in her eyes and started

her life and the sudden diagnosis of a terminal illness. After receiving this

quickly handed her a tissue, full

nose. "May I ask

slightly. "You can call me

"Gold...?"

sniffed. "I used to know someone really annoying with that last name. But you are much prettier and

so? What

The woman's smile deepened.

of you, Ms. Salvador. As the daughter of the Salvador family, you were quite the sensation. I was at the hospital for business today and saw you by chance. Seeing your current situation made me curious, so I followed you to learn more. As a fellow Savrow native, I want to help you