Belle’s eyes gleamed with malevolent anticipation. The storm outside mirrored the tempest brewing within her—a storm of jealousy, desperation, and a burning need for validation. Every drop of rain felt like a countdown, each thunderclap an affirmation of her impending victory. She imagined Xia’s face upon discovering her mother's fate, the utter despair that would consume her. It was a masterpiece of cruelty, perfectly orchestrated to shatter Xia's spirit and clear the path for Belle's ascension.
Meanwhile, at the engagement party, preparations were in full swing. The ballroom of the Lu mansion shimmered with crystal chandeliers, the air thick with the scent of expensive perfumes and nervous energy. Xia, oblivious to the impending doom, meticulously arranged the jasmine flowers, her touch gentle and reverent. Each bloom represented a fragile hope, a silent promise of a future she dared not dream of—a future where love and truth could blossom amidst the thorns of deceit.
Zhenting paced restlessly in his study, the legal documents for severing his engagement with Belle spread across his desk. He reread the clauses, each word a painful reminder of the lie he had been living. His hand instinctively went to the faint scar on his palm, a constant echo of the drugged night and the burning need to protect the woman he truly loved. He thought of Xia, her quiet strength, her unwavering kindness. He would not let her be collateral damage in Belle's twisted game. Tomorrow, he would set her free, even if it meant sacrificing everything.