Rebirth In Divorce My New Mr. Perfect (by Summer Knowles) novel Chapter 485

Sarah took sip after sip of her wine, trying to tune out the whispers.

But the more she tried not to listen, the louder their words seemed to burrow into her mind.

She let out a bitter chuckle.

Maybe they weren’t completely wrong.

No matter what anyone said, Tina had died because of her.

Sarah’s gaze darkened as she turned toward the center of the gala.

The real criminals, the ones behind the racetrack incident, the ones responsible for Tina’s death, were standing in the spotlight, basking in admiration.

Vivian Wilson, hand in hand with Zachary Reynolds, smiling effortlessly at the cameras, secure in her place next to him.

Meanwhile, Sarah sat in the shadows, the target of endless gossip and malice.

Then, suddenly—

"Shut the hell up!"

The voice rang out across the room, cutting through the whispers like a blade.

"You’re all full of crap! Zachary Reynolds himself cleared Sarah’s name in a public interview. Do you think you know better than him? Are you questioning his judgment?

"Here, let me just record this and send it to him. Let’s see if he’d like to personally explain to each of you why you’re talking nonsense."

Scarlett appeared out of nowhere, standing protectively in front of Sarah, phone in hand, camera aimed.

The women who had been whispering immediately paled, exchanging uneasy glances.

"Ugh, how rude," one of them muttered, turning away.

Scarlett wasn’t about to let them off so easily.

"Oh, I’m rude? You were the ones spewing garbage about someone behind their back. And I’m the one without manners? Please. Go crawl back under whatever rock you came from."

The women fled, disappearing into the crowd.

Sarah let out a small laugh, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

"And what are you laughing at?" Scarlett huffed, turning to her. "I just fought a battle for you! Those women have nothing better to do than run their mouths, and you just let them?"

"I was waiting for you to handle it for me," Sarah teased.

Scarlett narrowed her eyes. "Oh, don’t even try that on me. I don’t buy it."

Sarah picked up a small pastry and offered it to her. "Here, a token of my gratitude."

She hadn’t noticed him, but he had been watching for a while—watching as she struggled, as she fought back against every obstacle thrown her way.

His fingers tightened around his wine glass.

Sarah had spotted a vineyard owner and was about to approach him, but before she could take a single step forward, Vivian Wilson swept in, blocking her path.

Vivian greeted the vineyard owner warmly, effortlessly pulling him into conversation.

It was so calculated, so obvious, and yet, no one in the room would dare to point it out.

Sarah clenched her fists.

She had already tried speaking to several other vineyard owners, only to be thwarted every single time by Vivian’s conveniently timed appearances.

James, from his vantage point, felt like a spectator watching a rigged game.

Over and over again, Sarah hit a wall.

Yet, she refused to give up.

Every rejection, every silent dismissal, every door slammed in her face—none of it seemed to break her resolve.

She just kept moving forward.