"I''m surprised at how protective you are of her. It seems the rumors are true. You''ve been throwing money and resources at her, and you rmended her for this role, didn''t you?"


    Emma sat there in her simple, elegant dress, her posture perfect, but her words wereced with venom. "You and Bet are cousins, alright. You even have the same taste in women. First it was Yvonne, and now..."


    "That''s enough!" Thomas shot up from his seat, cutting Emma off.


    He nced instinctively at Yvonne before fixing his gaze back on his aunt, his voice tight with suppressed emotion. "You two talk. I have two more scenes this afternoon, so I''m heading to makeup."


    After Thomas left, Emma and Yvonne were alone.


    Emma maintained her superior air, casually gesturing to the chair opposite her. "Sit."


    Yvonne walked over in silence and sat down.


    A brief silence hung between them as Emma brazenly sized her up.


    Though the face waspletely different, the girl''s aura reminded Emma of someone from her past.


    The feeling stirred an inexplicable sense of unease and irritation within her.


    "Yvonne. The switched-at-birth daughter of the Spencer family, and the granddaughter of the James family," Emma stated, casually reciting the facts from her background check.


    To the lofty Mrs. Thompson, Yvonne''s background was utterly unimpressive, and her tone was cold and sharp.


    "I''ve seen plenty of girls like you. You think you can use a pretty face to hook a man and marry into wealth. You should take a good look in the mirror and ask yourself if you''re even worthy."


    "As long as I''m around, you will never set foot in the Thompson family home. No matter how much Bet likes you, he would never defy his parents. Without a proper title, you''ll be nothing more than a mistress, hidden away in t


    shadows."


    After her speech, Emma calmly opened her limited-edition Hermès bag, pulled out a


    check for a substantial amount, and pushed it across the table toward Yvonne.


    "If you''re smart, you''ll take this


    money and break up with Bet. Let me give you some friendly advice, youngdy. While you''re still young find an honest man of your own social standing and settle down. Stop overreaching and coveting people who are out of your league."


    Yvonne lowered her gaze to the humiliating piece of paper on the table. After a long moment of silence, she finally looked up and asked, "Mrs. Moore, may I ask why you dislike me so much?"


    It was a question she had wanted to ask in her previous life, but only now had the chance.


    Emma seemed taken aback by the question, momentarily stunned.


    She had anticipated several possible reactions-that Yvonne would quietly take the money and leave, that she would burst into tears,


    1.n


    ext


    refusing the money and professing her true love for Bet. She had even imagined a hysterical outburst, using Emma of trying to


    humiliate her with money.


    But she had never imagined that this girl, not even twenty years old, would calmly ask her why she disliked her.


    Emma was suddenly reminded of the original Yvonne, who had the same clear, piercing eyes that seemed to see through all the ugliness and filth in the world.


    "Perhaps I just don''t like your name. It has an unpleasant ring to it," Emma replied dismissively, her irritation growing.


    This girl, aside from her aura and her eyes, was so much like the first Yvonne.


    And that Yvonne had Betpletely wrapped around her finger when she was alive. Even after her death, she had driven him to the brink of despair.