Revenge Of The Jilted Bride (Ophelia) novel Chapter 233

Chapter 233 

Marilyn came to a halt, taking a deep breath. ‘Is this a joke? Am I being petty?‘ she wondered. 

She looked at the woman blocking her path. “Olivia, what exactly are you trying to do?” 

“We’re just chatting… Why so worked up? I’m just curious how someone who didn’t even deserve to serve me in the day managed to become the chief designer of La Reverie. Just sharing tips, that’s all,” she mocked 

Olivia Reed crossed her arms, her low V–neckline revealing a generous amount of cleavage. “Maybe you can teach us a thing or two about whatever shady tricks you used.” 

Her words dripped with sarcasm. 

This wasn’t about exchanging ideas. It was clearly about humiliating Marilyn. 

“Move,” Marilyn said, forcing down the urge to curse as she ground the words out through clenched teeth. 

Her image now represented La Reverie. She couldn’t afford to embarrass Ophelia. She’d endure it for now. 

“Humph… Feisty, aren’t you? Big enough to do it, but not big enough to admit it?” Olivia stepped in her way again, radiating the kind of smug defiance that practically screamed. ‘What can you do about it?‘ she wondered. 

Marilyn frowned, tilting her head to look at the woman before her. Her eyes were red with anger. 

She didn’t think she had done anything wrong. 

Taking another deep breath, Marilyn swallowed the words on the tip of her tongue and prepared to walk around her. 

“No need to rush off… What’s the matter? Now that you’re a chief designer, you think you’re too good for old classmates like us?” Olivia taunted, her tone dripping with mockery. 

Marilyn couldn’t hold back any longer. “Don’t block the way.” 

“Who are you shouting at? With manners like yours, how do you even deserve to be here? Olivia retorted. She wasn’t pleased that Marilyn, a girl with no family background, stood out so much at school. 

Marilyn was top of their class, campus beauty despite her humble roots, and got a full scholarship. Everything Marilyn had achieved was something Olivia could only dream of. 

And now, less than a year after graduating, Marilyn was already making waves in the fashion design world. 

‘Why?‘ Olivia roared inwardly. 

“She doesn’t need your approval to be here.” A calm voice rang out from behind Marilyn. 

Ophelia walked over at an unhurried pace, her steps perfectly synchronized with the rhythm of the piano music in the background. 

“Ophelia!” Marilyn broke free of Olivia’s grasp and ran to Ophelia’s side. 

All the unease Marilyn had been feeling vanished in an instant. Seeing Ophelia felt like finding her anchor in a storm. 

Ophelia cast a brief glance at Marilyn. A moment ago, she had looked downcast and dispirited, but now her eyes sparkled like stars at the sight of her. 

The expression reminded Ophelia of Rex. 

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Chapter 233 

With a stern expression, Ophelia looked at Marilyn. “You were recruited into La Reverie for your talent. Why are you embarrassed to admit it? 

“Do you think just anyone can design for La Reverie? Keeping such a low profile that you let others walk all over you… isn’t that a slap in my reputation?” 

Though her words sounded like criticism, Marilyn felt deeply moved by them. 

“I’m sorry, Ophelia. It won’t happen again,” Marilyn said. 

With Ophelia backing her up, there was nothing to be afraid of. 

Olivia’s arrogance evaporated like water on a hot stove. The moment she saw Ophelia, she shrank back, suddenly meek and submissive, like a frightened ostrich. 

She knew exactly that Ophelia was the founder of La Reverie and an untouchable figure in the design world. Nervously, Olivia started inching away. 

“Don’t be in such a hurry, Olivia. Let’s catch up. Why don’t you tell me what qualified you to be here?” Marilyn asked, mimicking Olivia’s earlier tone. 

Earlier, Marilyn’d been so focused on avoiding conflict that she hadn’t even considered this question. 

She now was wondering how Olivia, a mere designer for a small brand, got invited to an event hosted by the Designers Association. 

Marilyn had only meant to scare Olivia, but the sudden guilt on Olivia’s face made her wonder if there was more to it. Olivia swallowed nervously. “Of course, I’m qualified to be here! I’m a designer at Huxley Fashion.” 

Standing off to the side, Ophelia suddenly chuckled. 

‘Well, she’s walked right into that one,’ she wondered. 

Ophelia had actually reviewed the designer profiles for Huxley Fashion before. As far as she remembered, there was no Olivia on their roster. 

Raising an eyebrow, she turned to look at Phoebe, who was seated on a nearby sofa. “Phoebe, you’re the head of Huxley Fashion. Do you recognize her?” 

Phoebe froze, her eyes locking with Ophelia’s. She hadn’t expected Ophelia to notice where she was sitting, let alone call her 

out. 

After a brief moment of stunned silence, Phoebe stood and made her way over. 

“Hi, Elia,” she greeted Ophelia warmly before turning to give Olivia an once–over. 

“Our company’s pretty big. There are plenty of designers I haven’t met yet. But if she has an invitation, she must have been cleared to attend,” Phoebe said tactfully, careful not to offend anyone. 

“I do have an invitation! I do!” Olivia blurted, though her anxious demeanor made it look like she was ready to flee the 

scene. 

A few minutes later, a staff member entered the room accompanied by security. They approached Olivia directly. “Are you 

upon 

verification, your invitation was found to be counterfeit. We’ll have to ask you to leave.” Olivia Reed? Apologies, but 

“That’s impossible! I paid for it!” Olivia blurted in her panic. The moment the words left her mouth, her face paled as she realized her slip. 

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Chapter 233 

The room erupted in stifled laughter. 

It was supposed to be free. 

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The truly capable were always invited. Those who weren’t good enough wouldn’t even make it through the door. 

Olivia was obviously part of the latter group. 

The security guards politely escorted her out. Olivia who had been so arrogant just moments ago now wished she could bury her head in the ground. 

Marilyn finally felt the satisfaction of a long–awaited release of pent–up frustration. Her dimples reappeared as her lips curled into a carefree smile. 

She was always carefree. 

Phoebe approached cautiously. “Elia, you’re not mad at me for not speaking up on your behalf earlier, are you?” she asked, treading lightly. 

Ophelia smiled faintly, her tone casual. “Why would I be?” 

‘Get mad at her? What for?‘ Ophelia wondered.