Rebirth In Divorce My New Mr. Perfect (by Summer Knowles) novel Chapter 483

"Oh, don’t get me wrong," the woman sneered. "I just wanted to see what kind of thick-skinned person would still dare to show up here. You caused the death of a student, you’re literally her murderer. What, did you come here hoping to win back Mr. Reynolds?"

She clicked her tongue twice in mock pity. "Such a shame. You should take a good look. Mr. Reynolds isn’t into women like you. Open your eyes and see who’s standing beside him. That’s the perfect woman, his childhood sweetheart, the one he truly loves. You’re delusional if you think you have a chance. A murderer like you will always be despised. If I were you, I’d leave now before making a fool of myself."

"Exactly! You should just get out of here before you make yourself sick watching Miss Wilson and Mr. Reynolds together."

Sarah set her wine glass down with a soft thud, the sound heavy against the table.

"That’s why you’re not me."

Her gaze turned icy as she looked at the woman.

"Judging from your tone, I can already guess what kind of person you are—cold, arrogant, sharp-tongued, and overconfident. But deep down, you fear those stronger than you. So tell me, who sent you to bark in my face? The Sanders family might not be as powerful as the Reynolds, but that doesn’t mean people like you can toy with me. If I were you, I’d bow my head and leave now. Because if I find out which family you belong to… who knows what kind of trouble might come your way?"

"You—!" The woman raised a trembling finger at Sarah, her face flushing with anger.

But in an instant, she lowered her head, knowing Sarah was right.

Melvin was not someone to be trifled with.

She had only come on Vivian Wilson’s orders, but she knew very well that if things went south, Vivian would never step in to protect her.

"Sarah Sanders, don’t celebrate too soon. We may not be able to bring you down, but don’t forget—your real enemies aren’t us. An ant can’t shake a tree, and an egg can’t break a stone. This is just a warning… so you don’t fall too hard when the time comes. Let’s go!"

As the women left, Sarah furrowed her brows.

She had expected trouble before coming to this gala—she just hadn’t expected it to come this early.

It wasn’t long before the brief moment of peace was interrupted.

A man suddenly approached Sarah, a nauseating smirk plastered across his face.

“Get lost!”

Before he could finish his sentence, Sarah lifted her glass and threw the entire contents of red wine in his face.

The man choked, his words dying in his throat.

He stared at her, stunned, his face dripping red as if it had been stained with blood.

"You… How dare you throw wine at me?!"

They were in a secluded corner, away from the main crowd, so no one had witnessed the humiliating scene.

The man’s face turned an even deeper shade of red—partly from rage, partly from the wine now soaking his once-pristine white suit, which he had deliberately chosen to make himself stand out.

Now, however, the deep red blotches looked like an ugly, splotched painting—one made of pure disgrace.