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.

someone had messed up the final

and Frederick hadn’t reached out to her. She didn’t have his number, so if he

her dad to find out Frederick’s company

isn’t over. Just you

replied with a smirk. Her eyes filled with disdain for

see their cards. And to Marguerite, Yuna, who flaunted at every opportunity, was nothing more than

the office of the President of the Winston

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

a handsome young man with delicate features, worry lining his

the scent strip and tossed it on the

was Frederick’s psychiatrist. Three years ago, Frederick had lost his sense of smell in a car accident. He’d had numerous secret check–ups abroad, but no cause

sighed softly, turned on some calming piano music, and started probing Frederick, “Have there been any recent events that have stuck with you? If you think about it, you might realize that you could actually smell something during those events. But because you’re so used to not

ridiculous night where 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…”

sentence was cut off as someone knocked on the glass door, interrupting his therapy session. He immediately opened his eyes,

Chuck, walked in, followed by another assistant carrying a tray of

recently held a large–scale perfume design competition. The perfumes

review them,” Chuck gave a nod to the assistant, who set the

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