09

9

"How dare a pathetic, disgraced woman like you claim to know someone of Grace's stature?" Rosie spat venomously.

Hearing this, Kian assessed me with contempt. "You're right. Just look at her—destitute and miserable. She's not even fit to polish Grace's shoes!"

"Where's security?" He scanned the room and bellowed, "Remove this lunatic immediately! Don't let her spoil my wedding to Grace!"

At his command, hotel guards quickly encircled me. As they were about to lead me out, a crisp, frosty female voice cut through the air. "Touch my mother, and you'll regret it!"

All eyes turned to the source of the voice.

There stood Grace in the center of the hall, adorned in a bespoke wedding gown, her beauty otherworldly. Her face resembled a delicate flower, her eyebrows perfectly arched, and her demeanor exuded unparalleled sophistication. She seemed to have descended from the heavens, captivating everyone with her poise.