Phoebe Harris didn’t just dress lavishly when she was out; she paid even more attention to her attire at ho. Heavy makeup concealed every imperfection on her face, and her lips were covered with a vibrant red lipstick. The way her lips moved as she spoke was sowhat terrifying.
She approached Nia Mitchell with a harsh, mocking expression on her face.
"Is the Peary ancestral ho a place soone like you is qualified to enter?"
She shot Nia Mitchell a disdainful look, then sized up her attire from head to toe.
"It’s only been a few days, how co you’re still dressed so shabbily?"
Her words were instantly sarcastic, her sense of superiority practically bursting.
Nia Mitchell smiled calmly and lifted her head to look at Phoebe Harris.
"You haven’t changed either. It’s only been a few days, and you’re still so... TSK TSK. Why aren’t you showing that subservience you display in front of Evelyn Peary today?"
Nia Mitchell was deliberately rubbing salt in her wounds; in front of Evelyn Peary, Phoebe Harris was a complete nobody.
No doubt she wouldn’t dare utter a word in front of Maxwell Peary.
She’s just picking on soone weaker now.
"You! You despicable little hussy! Didn’t your parents teach you any manners? It figures you’re soone who’ll never be presentable in polite society."
Phoebe Harris instantly flared up. Nia Mitchell had rely been riding on Evelyn Peary’s coattails that day.
A fox borrowing the tiger’s might—did Nia Mitchell really think she was sothing special?
"Let tell you, Maxwell Peary will divorce you soon! The Peary Clan will never accept a low-class daughter-in-law like you."
Phoebe Harris had made inquiries beforehand; Samuel Peary had summoned Nia Mitchell precisely for this matter. She was the one who had previously inford Samuel Peary about Maxwell Peary’s marriage. If she hadn’t, given Maxwell Peary’s secretive thods, it would have taken Samuel Peary a long ti to find out.
Today, she was going to make Nia Mitchell understand the vast difference between her and Maxwell Peary.
"I don’t need anyone’s approval. As long as my own husband acknowledges , that’s enough."
She was going to live her life with Maxwell Peary; why should she try to please others?
If she hadn’t known about the issues between Maxwell Peary and the Peary Clan, she might have considered his dignity and swallowed her pride, enduring it silently to avoid putting him in a difficult position.
But things were different now. To Maxwell Peary, the Peary Clan had only brought harm.
"Don’t need approval? You’re truly naive, aren’t you? Look around you! All of this will eventually belong to Maxwell Peary. And you? What do you have?"
She’s just an ordinary person with nothing. Phoebe Harris could understand her ambition and vanity; after all, in her mind, no one could resist the allure Maxwell Peary radiated.
But to covet what didn’t belong to her—that was her mistake.
Nia Mitchell sneered. "Are you trying to make see the gap between my husband and myself, so I’ll back down knowing the odds are against ?" Calling naive? In her eyes, Phoebe Harris was the more naive one.
"That’s right. You’d best leave Maxwell Peary quietly. He has a fiancée, you know."
The person Phoebe Harris admired most was Belinda Swan—a true lady from a distinguished family, soone worthy of Maxwell Peary.
What did this hussy who appeared out of nowhere even count for?
"A woman like you, who’s vain and uses her body to cling to a rich man—how could you possibly be fit to be a daughter-in-law of the Peary Clan? You’d better be sensible. In all of Capital Town, no one dares to oppose the Peary Clan. Don’t you want to make a living here anymore?"
She had countless ways to make Nia Mitchell end up on the streets, living out the rest of her life in misery. It was only her ’kindness’ that made her reluctant to act.
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