Five Years Wasted Now They Beg Her Back novel Chapter 165

Veronica sat on the sofa, clutching a gold-edged invitation. It was for the Clarke family matriarch’s eightieth birthday celebration, a form of reassurance that Marianne had specifically sent over.

“Grace… a nerd who only knows how to study. What gives her the right to compete with me?” Veronica seethed, her eyes bloodshot. She had been humiliated at the institute and scolded mercilessly by Dr. Walsh. But that didn't mean she had lost.

This world was about bloodlines, connections, and the foundation built over generations. So what if Grace won the Aurelius Prize? In the eyes of the city's elite, she was still an orphan who’d broken ties with the Hart family and been kicked out by the Wards—an abandoned woman with no real standing. A nobody with no backing.

“As long as I can get everyone at the party to ignore her, we’ll see how proud she is then!” Veronica sneered and dialed Marianne’s number.

“Aunt Marianne, that latest Elie Saab couture gown I’ve been wanting to wear, can you help me borrow it? I want to make the Clarke family proud at grandma’s birthday banquet.”

On the other end of the line, Marianne sounded pleased. “Don’t you worry, I’ll have someone take care of it right away. At this party, you are going to outshine everyone and show that woman what a true high-society heiress looks like.”

After hanging up, Veronica looked at her own exquisitely made-up face in the mirror and finally managed a smile.

Meanwhile, at the Clarke family villa, Grace was looking at the rows of gowns Damien had someone bring into her closet, feeling a headache coming on.

“You weren’t suited for them before because the man standing by your side was blind,” Damien said, turning her around to face him. His gaze was scorching, filled with unwavering conviction. “Now, I’m the one by your side. I’m taking you, not for you to socialize, but to make everyone see that Damien’s wife is the best woman in the world.”

Grace’s heart skipped a beat.

Damien snapped his fingers. A team of top stylists in black uniforms filed in. “Mr. Clarke, we have all of this season’s couture gowns here. What style does Ms. Hart prefer?”

Damien glanced over the lavish gowns, his eyes finally landing on a shimmering, silver-white mermaid gown. It was the final masterpiece of the renowned designer Mr. Y—a piece called “Galaxy.” It was said to be something money couldn’t buy.