Rebirth In Divorce My New Mr. Perfect (by Summer Knowles) novel Chapter 479

Mr. Wilson chuckled. "If we can’t finish the bottle, take the rest home for your grandfather."

Vivian laughed. "Grandpa, what are you saying? Do you really think Grandpa William would drink someone else’s leftover wine?"

"True, true. My mistake," Mr. Wilson admitted with a good-natured smile. "Then how about this—before you leave, pick out a bottle from my collection and take it back for him. That way, he won’t have anything to complain about behind my back."

The meal had yet to begin, but the atmosphere at the dining table was warm and harmonious.

Anne was busy serving dishes, while Zachary quietly observed the exchange between Vivian and Mr. Wilson.

It was just a simple family dinner, so why go to such extravagant lengths?

The Romanée-Conti on the table was no ordinary wine. Though its auction price had been around three million yuan, it was truly priceless—aged for years, often purchased as an investment rather than for consumption.

So why had Mr. Wilson brought it out tonight?

What was he trying to achieve?

At the Dinner Table…

The long, marble dining table exuded elegance.

The dishes placed before them were no less luxurious—every plate rivaled those of St. Ritz, a renowned fine-dining restaurant, if not surpassing them.

With only the three of them at the table, Mr. Wilson gestured toward one of the dishes.

"Zachary, try this," he encouraged.

Vivian beamed. "Zachary, all of Grandpa’s chefs are Michelin three-star masters—not a bit inferior to St Ritz’s.”

Mr. Wilson took a sip of wine before speaking again.

"Zachary, you and Vivian have known each other since childhood. Even before you were born, your grandfather and I had already arranged your engagement."

He paused, letting his words sink in.

Vivian turned her face slightly, a hint of shyness in her expression.

Zachary, however, remained silent for a long time. The weight of expectation lingered in the air before he finally spoke.

"I’ll need to ask my grandfather first."

Mr. Wilson’s eyes gleamed. "We actually discussed this just two days ago. He has no objections."

"Then if Grandpa has no objections, I have none either," Zachary replied evenly.

Vivian let out a quiet sigh of relief.

"Maybe the evidence still isn’t strong enough."

Mrs. Mendes’ eyes were red, her head shaking furiously.

"It’s not about the evidence," she said bitterly. "If it really were about lacking proof, then why is it that the moment she was accused, everyone was so quick to declare her guilty? Why was it enough then?”

Sarah fell silent.

She had miscalculated.

She had been the one who encouraged Mrs. Mendes to take the evidence to the police.

With Tina’s chat logs, the chocolate’s serial number, Mrs. Mendes’ testimony, and the signs of struggle on the rooftop—Sarah had believed it was enough to bring Vivian down.

But she hadn’t expected everything to collapse overnight.

Because just one day after Mrs. Mendes filed the report—

Someone else turned themselves in.

A person had come forward, confessing to the crime, recounting every detail of the incident flawlessly.