From Discarded Wife to Queen (Tyrone) novel Chapter 457

**TITLE: Obsidian Dawn 457**
**Chapter 457 This Is Embarrassing**

Rachel carefully tucked Zera’s phone into her bag, a smirk playing on her lips as she did so.

Raine, sensing the tension in the air, darted behind the curtains, her heart racing. She could hear the muffled chaos unfolding just outside her hiding spot.

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Aella, ever the voice of reason, grasped Raine’s arm tightly and whispered urgently, “Let’s not get involved in their drama. We’re just here to watch.”

In her past life, Zera had glided through challenges effortlessly, shielded by Tyrone’s unwavering support. It was a charmed existence until the truth shattered her world and Tyrone turned against her, casting her into the depths of despair.

Now, devoid of his protection, Zera found herself entangled in a web of misery, her life spiraling downward.

As she reached for her phone, desperate to call for help, Rachel’s aunts seized her hair, yanking her down with a cruel grip.

With desperation lacing her voice, Zera cried out, “Mrs. Cunningham, my aunt has been your friend for years! How can you treat me with such cruelty?”

But Jolene, her eyes cold and unyielding, shrugged off Zera’s plea. “She seduced my husband behind my back. What do you expect me to do? Just stand by and let it happen?”

Zera, feeling a surge of anger, retorted, “Mr. Cunningham doesn’t love you anymore! Even without my aunt, he’d find someone else. If your husband left you, maybe you should look in the mirror instead of bullying innocent people!”

The thought of revenge simmered in her mind; once her aunt had a child and married into the Cunninghams, Zera vowed to make this old woman pay for everything she had endured.

At that moment, Jenny strolled in, her presence signaling a potential shift in the dynamics.

Zera, seizing the opportunity, shouted for help, “Ms. Townsend, please! I need your assistance! Call the police! They’ve attacked me and wrecked my salon!”

Jenny cast a furtive glance at Jolene and Rachel, her expression a mix of confusion and concern.

She replied hesitantly, “Uh, who are you? I’m just here for a treatment. I don’t know you.”

Then, with a nervous laugh, she added, “Your place looks like a disaster. You clearly can’t keep it open. You better refund my prepaid money, or I’ll report you for fraud!”

And with that, she bolted out of the salon, leaving Zera in a state of shock, her previous confidence evaporating like mist in the morning sun.

Aella couldn’t help but let out a sigh, her heart heavy for Zera.

In her previous life, Zera and Jenny had used each other, pretending to be close friends, but now their bond had shattered in an instant.

Soon, the remnants of the salon lay strewn about, anything that could be taken had been snatched away, and what remained was left in ruins.

Finally, satisfied with the chaos, Jolene ordered everyone to leave. Just then, George burst through the door, panting heavily as he took in the scene before him.

Jolene’s lips curled into a malevolent smile. “Oh, really? And what can you possibly do to me? Don’t forget who helped build the Cunningham Group in the first place!”

A few customers who had lingered began to voice their outrage.

“I can’t believe Mr. Cunningham is this foolish. He’d actually abandon his daughter for an old homewrecker.”

“Mrs. Cunningham’s family helped his business, but he’s stabbing them in the back. What a scumbag.”

“I’m telling my husband to sever business ties. A man like that deserves to face bankruptcy and homelessness.”

“My husband is negotiating a project with them right now. I should pull out before it’s too late.”

As the wealthy ladies spoke, George’s expression shifted, realization dawning on him like a dark cloud.

Jolene scoffed, her triumphant expression evident, as she strode out alongside Rachel and the others, leaving Zera to grapple with the wreckage of her dreams.

Aella cast one last sympathetic glance at Zera before pulling Raine away, whispering about the cunning ways of the Caldwell women.

Zera stood amidst the ruins of her salon, feeling as if she were staring at a heap of concrete and despair, her heart racing. “Mr. Cunningham, the salon is ruined. What am I supposed to do now?”

George, with a heavy heart, pulled out a bank card and handed it to her. “Pack your things. I’ll send you overseas to your aunt. Give her this card. It will help sustain you both for a while.”