Chapter 25
Chapter 25
At this moment, Yvonne was practically quivering with anticipation, eager to witness Whitney’s public
downfall as the scene of her brutalizing her own dogs unfolded before the eyes of all.
She had Preston summon a doctor to declare Whitney mentally unstable right then and there, ensuring
she would be hauled off to the asylum and locked away for good.
She would never see the light of day again, never be able to turn the tables. That irksome little wench
would be out of her hair for good!
In her mind’s eye, Yvonne smirked with vicious satisfaction. As the servant shattered the lock and
pushed open the door, she stepped into the dimly lit basement.
The stench of blood hit them like a wall, causing everyone to cover their noses. As the lights flicked on,
the assembled ladies gasped at the sight of a girl sitting amid a bloody mess, her hands and face
smeared with blood, even flecks on her teeth, like she’d gone mad ripping into raw flesh.
“Agh!”
“What in the world? Who killed the dogs? Was it Whitney?”
“Whitney, darling!” Yvonne rushed to the girl’s side, her face etched with feigned concern as she
reached for the girl. “Sweetheart, even if you’re unwell and faced some ridicule at the party, they were
your own dogs. How could you be so cruel to your own pets, you…”
Yvonne was laying out Whitney’s supposed sickness and its triggers, ready to signal Preston to call for
the doctor, when she took a proper look at the girl’s face and let out a shrill scream, collapsing
backward, her face ashen.
“What’s wrong, Yvonne?”
“Yvonne, why did you call me?” Whitney sauntered in from the side, feigning surprise. “Oh no, it’s my
sister!”
Every gaze in the room turned to the girl in the pool of blood.
It was Monica! It was actually Monica!
Yvonne was stunned. She lifted her shocked gaze to Whitney, who was cool as a cucumber, then back
down, refusing to believe her daughter had ‘attacked the dogs.‘
How could it be Monica? Her plan had been flawless. Where had she gone wrong?
Snapping back to reality, Yvonne glared at Whitney with pure loathing.
Meanwhile, Preston, his face a picture of disgust, quickly moved to disperse the onlookers.
But the crowd was too intrigued and refused to disperse.
In desperation, Yvonne covered Monica and covertly tried to wake her daughter.
Monica came to with a start, “Mom, why am I here? Ah!”
–
As she took in the sight of blood and the mutilated remains of what seemed to be a dog, Monica
screamed.
Whitney watched the dramatic scene unfold before squatting down innocently, “Sis, what in the world.
happened to you? How could you kill my dogs?”
“I didn’t, I didn’t kill any dog,” Monica stammered, her face pale and confused, turning to her mother for
answers.
“Enough! Stop this nonsense. Everyone, there’s nothing to see here. This is just some frozen meat
from the storage, and Monica just fainted because of her fragile body, that’s all. A simple
misunderstanding!” Yvonne hastily explained with a forced smile, urging everyone to leave.
“Yvonne, is my sister sick? I saw the kitchen was brewing some tonic soup for her. Is it because she
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another baby recently, and that’s why she’s emotionally unstable and could do something so extreme
as to harm dogs? Whitney speculated calmly, her voice laced with concern.
The audience caught on to the underlying implication.
Yvonne wished she could rip Whitney’s mouth right off her face.
But she was powerless to do so.
Just then, Phebe stepped forward with a face like thunder. “What’s this all about? Monica, did you have
a miscernage with my boy Simon?”
Everyone knew Phebe had high standards for purity and took a dim view of Simon’s relationship with
Monica. After all, Monica was the mistress, and Phebe despised her. However, Simon was too much in
love with Monica, and Phebe had no choice but to compromise.
Her question made Monica and Yvonne stiffen.
Whitney kept up her act of concerned sister. “Phebe, didn’t you know? Monica’s miscarriage even
made the rounds in a video. Yvonne, Monica’s lifestyle is taking a toll on her health. Despite her youth,
such recklessness will only lead to ruin.”
The murmurs grew louder, with whispers of disdain. “What’s going on with Monica? Has she lost
several babies?”
“Just now, Yvonne was boasting about her daughter’s purity, and now this slap in the face.”
Phebe, now indignant, glared at Monica before storming out.
Whitney watched with a smile and then gracefully exited the scene.
Yvonne sat on the floor, defeated, as the whispers around her grew.
Monica quickly got up and chased after Phebe, sobbing. Meanwhile, Preston panted heavily as he
stared at Yvonne with wide eyes.
Yvonne’s face was pale as a sheet, and this humiliation had gotten her so filled with rage she almost bit
her tongue off. She had planned to humiliate Whitney and send her to the asylum, but shockingly,
Monica ended up being the one humiliated.
With an ashen expression, Preston cleaned up the mess. Fortunately, not many esteemed ladies had
followed them here and witnessed this nonsense, and he could pay them to keep their mouths shut.
However, this expenditure made his heart ache.
No matter how hard Monica tried to explain to Phebe that this was a misunderstanding and that
Whitney twisted the truth because there was something wrong with her brain, Phebe was not
convinced at all and left the Valentine Mansion in a rage.
Having cleaned up and changed into her evening gown, Monica looked somewhat revived, but the
situation with Phebe had left her visibly shaken.
She blamed her mother. “Mom, Whitney saw right through your plan, and now I’m the one covered in
filth! I hate her! Stop interfering. She thinks she’s won, right? Just wait until the auction starts. I’ll see
how much she can spend. I’m going to make her the laughingstock of the evening!” Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.
And so, the auction began, drawing the attention of the wealthy attendees, temporarily setting aside
the scandal involving Monica for the excitement of the bidding war while Yvonne and Preston
scrambled to salvage their tarnished reputations.
“Monica!” Yvonne was visibly worried. If she had faltered, what hope did her daughter have?
Monica dashed into the auction house with an air of grace just as Simon returned with a stormy expression.
Her eyes quickly caught sight of Whitney making an entrance. In a heartbeat, Monica threw herself into the man’s arms, tears streaming down her face like a spring shower. “Simon, is Mom still mad? She’d rather
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believe those nasty lies from my sister than in her own son?
You know me. You know you’re the only one for me. My sister is just jealous of our love; she wants to
ruin me!”
Simon, who had been slightly swayed, felt his resolve soften once more at the sight of her tears.
Following Monica’s gaze, he, too, noticed Whitney just entering. His brows knitted together, then he
strode over and grabbed Whitney by the arm. “This is too much! Whitney, why would you frame
Monica? Don’t I know her well enough to see through these lies? Even if Aunt Yvonne has it out for
you, you’ve got no right to drag Monica’s good name through the mud!”