He Lost Me to His Best Friend novel Chapter 47

Talia's spicy stew smelled absolutely divine. Knowing Scarlett was still breastfeeding, she had thoughtfully prepared a separate, mild portion just for her.

The two women dug into their plates, chatting and laughing between bites. Scarlett couldn't even remember the last time she had felt so light and carefree.

Meanwhile, driven back to her car in disgrace, Corinne was certainly not laughing.

The chili oil was trapped in her eye, searing her left cornea like a branding iron.

Corinne covered her face frantically, screaming in agony. "It hurts! It's killing me! My eye! I'm going blind!"

"Do something! Get it out!" she wailed, viciously yanking on the driver's sleeve to make him help.

But after she had rubbed it, the irritant was firmly embedded. The driver wasn't a doctor, and he was absolutely terrified to touch her face.

"Mrs. Flynn, I... I really think I should rush you to the hospital. A doctor needs to look at this," the driver urged, watching his employer practically convulsing in pain.

Corinne was swiftly escorted into the emergency room. With a doctor's help, the chili residue was successfully flushed out, but her left eye was already severely inflamed and swollen. The doctor applied a soothing ointment and secured a gauze patch over it.

When Corinne finally walked out of the ER, her expression was murderous.

She looked up to see Yardley standing in the corridor. Dressed in a dark blue dress shirt, his face was just as thunderous, his stern features radiating deep displeasure.

Yardley had already heard exactly what happened from the driver. He was furious and profoundly disappointed with his mother's actions.

Her eye was seriously injured, and he hadn't offered a single word of comfort. Instead, he had warned her to back off. All those years raising him felt entirely wasted. Seething with resentment, Corinne's desire to see Yardley divorce Scarlett only grew stronger.

As for her granddaughter, she truly couldn't care less. To her, the child was nothing more than an inconvenient burden.

Once her son finally divorced Scarlett, a man of Yardley's wealth and striking looks would have countless high-society women lining up to give him an heir.

At the Bay City Airport, a private jet touched down on the VIP tarmac.

The cabin door opened, and a tall, broad-shouldered man emerged, silhouetted against the sunlight. Dressed in a crisp linen shirt, tailored dark trousers, and polished dress shoes, his features were strikingly handsome. There was a gentle, refined aura about him, an innate aristocratic grace that seemed to catch the light. Every movement he made oozed quiet elegance and authority.