The Divorced Heiress’s Revenge

Chapter 313

The concert officially began.

The renowned pianist, Christian, gracefully ascended the stage. She was adorned in an elegant deep blue velvet gown. Seated at the entirely black grand piano, she began to perform her renowned composition, ‘Seasons in the Wind’, captivating the audience.

The audience was immersed in the enchanting melody, and a tranquil hush filled the auditorium.

Even though the piano piece was lovely, Bella’s attention was fixated on Christian’s dark blue gown. This unique haute couture dress was the only one of its kind in the world. It was personally designed by the internationally acclaimed fashion designer Sharon-Bella herself. Individuals of such international high-end talent, celebrity status, and virtuous character, with a distinguished reputation, were the only ones deemed worthy to wear a gown designed by Sharon.

Justin sat through the performance, but it did not capture his interest at all. His fists were clenched so tight that his arms subtly trembled.

Throughout the concert, he tried hard to hide his frustration, but his eyes stayed fixed on Bella. She looked stunning, and every move she made seemed to bother him.

Occasionally, Christopher and Bella leaned in, exchanging soft, whispered words. Bella nodded with a playful glint in her eyes, seeming like she was genuinely entertained by whatever Christopher was saying.

Justin pressed his lips together, and he gripped his fists so hard that his veins popped out. His face turned pale, like it was covered in a layer of frost.

could not look

about? Bella was married to me for three years and spent every day living with me, so why does she have more to say to

the sudden cold. “Damn, why is it suddenly so cold?

a few more pieces before the spotlight shifted to Zoe, Christian’s talented protege. Zoe graced the stage in a stunning green

stage, enthusiastically waved at her. “Zoe! Zoe,

Zoe, who was on stage, remained blissfully unaware of her brother’s disruptive antics on the second floor. Her face,

ten fingers delicately touched the black and white keys,

composition was Mozart’s “Turkish

Her eyes were gleaming with admiration. However, a subtle hint of envy lingered beneath the surface.

left hand rested on her lap, and with the precision of well-trained muscle memory, her fingers effortlessly followed the lively melody. Surprisingly, the once-crippled little finger

spoke with affection. “I remember how well you played the piano as a child.” He leaned in, whispering in her ear, “If

trembling fingers clenching tightly. “It’s impossible,” she declared, her certainty evident in

carried the heavily injured Justin back to the army camp. The ligaments in her left hand suffered severe damage, leaving her little

harbored no regrets

for world peace. It was not Justin the scumbag she saved, but a soldier in the peacekeeping force. Her wounds were not a reminder of her mistakes but rather a badge of personal,