?Chapter 362:


    Sadie lowered her gaze, her thickshes casting faint shadows across her cheekbones, concealing whatever flicker of emotion might have surfaced. Three years ago, she had already seen this sight unfold time and time again.


    Three years ago, she had already stopped longing for what could have been.


    “Strange, though… why aren’t they married yet?”


    “Who knows?” A sly chuckle followed. “Maybe Mr. Wall isn’t done enjoying the game.”


    The spective whispers slithered through the air, brushing against Sadie’s ears like unwee ghosts. Her grip tightened around her handbag, her knuckles nching from the force.


    She willed herself to shut it all out—not to look, not to listen.


    Under the banquet hall’s shimmering lights, she sat alone at her table, her postureposed, but her mind an unsteady battlefield.


    Then, without warning, someone slid into the seat beside her—a figure draped in champagne silk—K. To Sadie, she was the woman Noah had chosen, the one who still stood by his side after all these years.


    The faint scent of jasmine followed K as she idly tapped her crimson-painted nails against the table, each click deliberate, calcted.


    “Three years, Miss Hudson,” she murmured. “And yet, you’re still lingering like a shadow.”


    Sadie met her gaze, her expression unshaken. “I could say the same, Miss Wade.”


    For a fraction of a second, K’s polished exterior cracked, her lips pressing into a thin line before she released a low, mirthlessugh.


    “What exactly do you think you are?” she sneered. “A discarded woman shackled with a child? Do you honestly believe you stand a chance against me?”


    A slow, knowing smile yed on Sadie’s lips.


    “What I am is irrelevant,” she said coolly. “What matters is that Noah has never once admitted you are his.”


    The air between them turned electric, hostility simmering beneath their exchange.


    Then, as if on cue, a banquet staff member approached their table, bowing slightly before addressing K with crisp politeness.


    “I apologize, Miss Wade, but this section is reserved for the top international designers. Your seat is further back.”


    K’s smile faltered, stiffening into something unnatural. She turned, pointing straight at Sadie.


    “Her?” K’s voice dripped with disbelief, her perfectly arched brows drawing together in disdain. “You’re telling me she’s a top international designer?”


    The staff member gave a polite nod.


    “Yes, Miss Wade. Sandra is one of our distinguished guests this evening.”


    A flush of humiliation crept up K’s neck, burning as though she had been struck.


    She turned back to Sadie, her eyes zing with jealousy.


    “How on earth did you earn a seat here?”


    Sadie remained unfazed. With effortless elegance, she lifted a ss of champagne, her slender fingers tracing the delicate stem as she took an unhurried sip.


    “It appears you’re out of the loop.” A pause, deliberate. “I am Sandra.”


    K froze, recalling that Jordyn had mentioned this to her months ago.


    She still couldn’t ept that Sadie, the woman she had scorned for years, was the renowned jewelry designer, Sandra.


    Her lips parted, but no words escaped.


    Sadie set down her ss with quiet finality, her expressionposed yetced with an unmistakable edge.


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