The Divorced Heiress’s Revenge

"Mr. Justin, what do you mean by that?" Clarice looked up at Justin's red and angry eyes. She frowned with a mocking smile and said, "She's from Savrow. That was unexpected for me too. If I had known, I wouldn't have let you come here for nothing and find nothing, would I?"

Clarice was no longer the delicate, sweet girl she once was. Now, she had powerful backers, and this fierce display of rage did not intimidate her at all.

"Why didn't you say so earlier?!" Ian burst out in frustration, barely able to stop himself from hurling insults. "Do you know how important today's appointment was between Mr. Salvador and Young Madam?! Mr. Salvador rushed over here because of your ridiculous lead! Now you tell us she's not in Fogville but in Savrow?! What are you playing at? Did you plan this just to ruin Mr. Salvador's meeting with Young Madam?!"

"Young Madam? Didn't Mr. Justin and Ms. Thompson already break up? Is it appropriate to keep calling her 'Young Madam'?" Clarice's eyes turned cold, and every mention of "Young Madam" pricked her ears like thorns. "Besides, how was I supposed to know they had prior plans? Even if they did, I assume finding his life-saving benefactor would be more important to Mr. Justin, right?"

Indeed, Little Dove proved to be hundreds of times more important in Justin's heart than Bella ever could be!

Thinking of that bitch who once nearly cost her life on the streets, now possibly standing in the biting wind, tasting the bitterness of abandonment by the man she loved sent a thrill of satisfaction through Clarice's body, making her blood surge with excitement.

Justin's handsome face turned dark with anger, his eyes swirling with an ominous rage, sharp and ruthless like a demon's.

have lost his emotional capability. But that did not mean he was

Justin forcefully pushed her onto the sofa, her neck colliding painfully with the wooden frame of the backrest, making her gasp sharply

better pray that my benefactor truly is in Savrow." Justin shot her a gloomy look and turned on his heel, striding toward the

hand went to her aching neck as she glared at his retreating

by his own incompetence. What could you possibly do by venting your rage on me? The task given by the Boss is done. Besides, why is he even angry at me?

nearly running. In the freezing cold, where the temperature was a chilling minus 20 degree Celsius, he was sweating from

as he reached the car,

down his jawline as he pulled the

The caller was Steven.

could manage, though his heart pounded with a strange,

"Why can I reach you

at his temple throbbed. He clutched the car door for