“That’s definitely nonsense! Any perfume Estelle submitted was created by herself and has nothing to do with anyone else.”
He cast a seemingly casual glance at me from the corner of his eye, then said resolutely, “As for the relationship between Ophelia and me, that’s even more something you imagined. There’s nothing improper between us. Perhaps I did something inadequately that caused her to misunderstand.”
What he said was airtight. If I were just a shameless woman chasing after him, maybe I would have corrected myself from then on.
But I wasn’t. I was his wife in name, yet in front of everyone, he turned me into the mistress.
In an instant, I only felt that everything before my eyes had become so ridiculous.
Even though I had long expected that he wouldn’t stand by my side, I still didn’t expect him to so decisively choose to sacrifice me.
In an instant, the originally wavering crowd looked at me again with the same disdain as before, even with a few more traces of disgust.
I lowered my head and slumped on the floor, letting the blood from the wound at my waist drip down drop by drop.
When Conrad caught sight of the desperate, hollow expression on my face, his heart jolted.