Summer hadn't wanted to engage with Iris. They were about to divorce Vincent, and she had no desire to get entangled with this disgusting pair.
Just looking at Iris felt like an insult to her eyes, and she certainly didn't want to get into a brawl at such an important event.
But her restraint only seemed to encourage her tormentor.
And now, Iris had dared to spew such vile lies, insulting not only her but also Alan, who had nothing to do with this, and even dragging her parents through the mud.
Why should she have to endure this?
She was a dying woman anyway.
What was there to be afraid of?
If the devil himself showed up, she'd drag Iris down to hell with her to face judgment. She refused to believe that if there was no justice on earth, hell could be just as unfair.
If no one was going to punish Iris, then she would do it herself. Her reputation was already in ruins, thanks to Iris.
"I'll kill her, and we can go to hell together!"
As a dying woman, taking Iris down with her would be a worthy trade.
With that thought, the dam of resentment and rage that had been building inside Summer finally burst.
Summer yanked Iris's hair, unleashing years of humiliation and frustration.
When women fight, it's all about nails and hair. Hair was the easiest target, and the most effective weapon.
"Ahhh! You bitch!"
Iris hadn't expected Summer to attack her at an event like this, but she quickly recovered and fought back with all her might.
Alan, snapping out of his confusion, finally understood that Iris had been insulting Summer.
He had thought she was just some lunatic who had escaped from a mental asylum, spouting nonsense, especially since sweet Summer had been ignoring her.
My god!
How could such a vicious woman exist in the world?
She looked human, but the words coming out of her mouth were fouler than sewage.
It completely shattered his worldview.
Alan was furious.
He saw the vicious woman grab a handful of sweet Summer's hair.


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