The Divorced Heiress’s Revenge

"It's been some time, Ms. Smith. You still look amazing." The man stared at Yvonne's exquisite face, smiling leisurely.
"Thank you for your praise, Sir." Yvonne lowered her head, responding humbly.
"This is expected of the child that Mr. Iverson personally nurtured for many years-gentle, elegant, dignified, and generous.
Sometimes, I even think that she's Ms. Thompson. Ms. Smith is truly the most perfect substitute I've seen."
Yvonne's expression remained unchanged, but her eyes darkened immediately.
The word "substitute" turned all of the praise from the man into sarcasm.
Christopher did not continue the topic. Instead, he opened the box and presented the antique vase to the man. "This is an 18th-
century vase I acquired at an auction in Inalia. It's a small token. Please accept it."
Clarice raised her brows.
She had kept an eye on this antique vase before for the man, but it was bought for a staggering $5 billion by an anonymous
buyer. She did not expect the buyer to be Christopher.
Christopher was indeed a considerate and dedicated lapdog.
The man nodded slightly. "Thank you, Mr. Iverson. Please give your full attention to DAD0044."
Christopher bowed deeply. "Rest assured. I will give it my all."
After the two left, the aromatic room fell into silence.
"Sir, between the face you bestowed upon me and Yvonne's face, which resembles Bella Thompson, which do you think is more
beautiful?" Clarice's hands rested gently on the man's shoulders as she leaned and whispered into his ear.
The man's eyebrows arched slightly, and he patted his lap twice.
Clarice obediently moved in front of him, kneeling at his feet. She lifted her radiant face and looked at him with eyes brimming
with affection.
"No matter how much Yvonne looks like Bella, she will never be her. She's only a low-tier substitute created to satisfy
Christopher's desires."

The man leaned forward, his fingers lifting her chin slowly. "You are your own self, a work of art I carefully crafted. How could a
boring replica compare to a thing that belongs to me?"
Upon hearing it, Clarice's dark eyes flickered slightly.
The man was like a supreme being who looked down upon the world seeing everything in terms of whether it belonged to him or
not. Therefore, she did not mind being called a "thing".
"Sir, forgive me for being frank."
Clarice knelt and massaged his legs with appropriate pressure. "I think now is the most suitable time for you to return. As
Christopher said the best way to manipulate a man is to play on his sympathy. I'm worried that Gregory will hand of the Salvador
Corn Over the reins Justin out of guilt."
The man chuckled. "He won't."
"Besides, now that Shannon has completely fallen, Bethany's existence in the Salvador family has no meaning anymore."
Clarice said, "Why don't you leak the secrets you know to take down both mother and daughter? Having useless chess pieces
on the board will only get in the way." "How do you know she's useless before the very end?"
Clarice was shocked.
"My grandfather always told me that we shouldn't be wasteful. Being thrifty is a traditional virtue."
The man's tall figure leaned back comfortably. "So I must use every piece to its full potential, to honor my grandfather's
teachings."
Clarice could not help sneering. "Does it include Christopher?"
The man coughed lightly, picked up his teacup, and sipped elegantly. "I hope he gives me a satisfactory result with the drug
experiment. Otherwise, our relationship will end here."
On judgment day, Shannon appealed in court.
Ten days later, the second trial upheld the initial decision-the death penalty.

From that moment on, Shannon felt as if she had gone blind. She curled into a ball at the corner of the cell from morning to night,
blankly staring at the small iron window, watching from dawn till dusk. Then, everything she looked at was like a dark and filthy
fog.