Chapter 3

The commanding tone of voice sounded familiar. When Irene looked up, she saw a woman who was slapped with a thick layer of makeup. "Isn't she Lily Cook's best friend, Freya Howard?" Irene thought. Freya was momentarily stunned as well when she saw Irene. As Irene was dressed in work attire, Freya mistook her for a waitress and was startled when she found out it was Irene.-

"So it's you?"

However, Irene merely ignored her. But just when she was about to brush past Freya, Freya managed to recover from her shock and stopped her immediately, "Are you actually working as a waitress here? Haha, what a joke!"

"Is it that funny?" Irene asked coldly.

"Of course. You were so arrogant in the past, weren't you? Tsk tsk. To think that you would end up as a mere waitress. Every dog has its day. That's quite apt for your situation now, isn't it? Hurry up and get me something to eat!"

Freya appeared pleased with what she had just said. As Irene was beautiful, morally

upright and blessed with a good life, she had always been an eyesore for Freya.

Now that Irene was ditched by Edric and had ended up as a waitress, it was a perfect opportunity for Freya to humiliate her.

Irene was disgusted by the look on Freya's face but found it insulting to stoop down to Freya's level to argue with her. Thus, she simply made her way around Freya and strutted off.

things slide, Freya yelled, "Irene, how dare you

Miss Howard, who the hell do you think

she was Edric's wife and he had protected her like a precious treasure. But now, things

in charge here

happened?" a gentle

you're just in time. Look who we have here!"

at Lily calmly. When their eyes met, Lily obviously seemed shocked. "Why is Irene here?"

aback, Lily smiled and greeted,

Irene merely glanced at her coldly and replied,

blame me for what happened, but it has nothing to do with me. I can't help it if

Irene's wounds were still sore and her heart still ached at the mention of her past. Unwilling to show her weakness to

Freya, who

up to Irene and grabbed hold of her before shoving her hard. The juice in the glass trene was holding immediately

convinced that she was a waitress and had

she was no longer Edric's wife and nobody would be there to

exchanged a look when they noticed that Irene did nothing to fend for herself. In the next moment, they reached over, yanked Irene's hair, and doused their red wine down her neck. The cold, red wine trickled

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