Revenge Of The Jilted Bride

Jilted Bride 28

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13:56 Sun, Nov 10 BW.

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Chapter 28

"Hey, Heather, doesn't that girl over there look familiar? Is that your daughter?" Helena asked as she stared at Ophelia. She had seen Ophelia at their family reunion, and her striking looks left an impression.

Covering her mouth, Helena let out a light chuckle. She had always wondered why the Hastings family would suddenly adopt a daughter. It turned out that they'd taken in their own biological daughter. This was the first time she'd seen a family treat their real daughter like an adopted one.

"Oh, it really is," Sarah said in surprise and exchanged a knowing look with Helena.

Heather had just been bragging about how much she doted on her biological daughter, and now, here her daughter was working in a store. That was too awkward. Heather's face immediately turned gloomy.

Ophelia, however, didn't notice them. She was busy helping an elderly lady try on a gown. Every time Ophelia served someone older, especially one with an elegant demeanor, it reminded her of her grandmother, and she always took extra care of them. She was focused on fastening the buttons when suddenly, a hand clamped down hard on her wrist.

"Elia, what are you doing here?" Heather asked as she tightened her grip, and there was no warmth in her voice-only accusation. It felt like she was trying to crush Ophelia's bones. "You're trying to embarrass me, aren't you?" Heather hissed under her breath, her eyes flashing with resentment.

Ophelia glanced at the two wealthy ladies nearby, who were clearly watching with interest. It didn't take a genius to figure out what was going on. Shaking off Heather's grip, Ophelia rubbed her sore wrist, her expression growing colder and more distant by the second. "Heather, did you forget something again?"

Ophelia a warning, silently pleading with her not to say anything embarrassing. "Elia, I

want to keep up the act, go home and perform for

Sarah teased, "Heather, your daughter doesn't seem all that

huh?"

hand and echoed, "Can't say I'm surprised. Who makes their real daughter work here? I guess blood ties don't run as deep as

so true. Anyway, since this is your family business, we'll just leave the time to you," Sarah said, her voice dripping with false sympathy. With that, the two women walked off,

unable to escape. The scene of Emily crying and threatening to run away, saying she didn't want to be a

aiming to slap Ophelia across the face. But Ophelia was quicker.

dare you raise your hand against me? Ophelia, I'm your mother. Is this what you want? To humiliate me in front of everyone? If you were half as well-behaved as Emily, I wouldn't even consider marrying you off to that guy." Ophelia used to feel pity for Heather, but now, she thought Heather deserved everything

right now," Heather ordered, her voice shaking with

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13:56 Sun, Chapter 28

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stand the humiliation that anyone saw the Hastings family's real daughter working in a store as a

Hastings family. Get it through your

disgracing us. I'm ordering you to quit this job." Heather growled while glaring at Ophelia. Ophelia's lips curled into a chilling smile. The sheer audacity of this family made her sick. She stared back into Heather's eyes and retorted, "You gave me life but didn't raise me. You owe me nothing but guilt. Maybe I should investigate whether I was really switched after birth,

She didn't notice how, after

mother passed away. A fortune teller had claimed Ophelia was cursed, destined to bring misfortune to her family-first her relatives, and then her parents. After her mother-in-law's sudden death, Heather had panicked and sent Ophelia to the orphanage, terrified she'd be the next victim. When she later heard Ophelia had been adopted by a decent family, she finally breathed a

gave birth to Ophelia, so Ophelia owed her. With that thought, any lingering guilt vanished from Heather's heart. She believed it was Ophelia's own fault for being such

*****

locked herself in her studio, drawing and ripping up sketches one after another, unable to focus. Her phone lit up with calls and notifications, but she ignored them all. She asked

in her white leather chair and rubbed

of the shop. A tall figure stepped out, his polished shoes reflecting the light with every step. Even before he entered the store, the passersby couldn't help but stare at him. Despite the black baseball cap and face mask hiding his features, his aristocratic vibe was