Where Petals of Vengeance Bloom novel Chapter 353

The woman in the red dress beamed with smug satisfaction, as if this birthday cake were some crowning glory she’d always deserved. Trying her best to sound gracious, she said, “Then please thank your manager for me.”

The server maintained her practiced, sweet smile and replied softly, “No need to thank me—it's our pleasure.”

With that, she turned and wheeled the empty cart out of the private room with effortless poise.

As the door clicked shut behind her, every eye in the room turned toward the woman in red, radiating envy.

Once the flurry of compliments had died down, Mac Brown—still nursing the sting from the slap he’d received—let his chubby face contort with rage. Suddenly, he snatched a plate off the table and, scowling, swung it at Claire’s head, cursing as he did:

“You arrogant little tramp! You dare hit me? Let’s see if you can take what you dish out!”

Claire reacted instantly. She grabbed a fork from the table, ready to defend herself.

But before she could strike back, May pulled her protectively into her arms.

There was a sharp crack as the plate smashed down on May’s head, shattering into pieces.

“May!” Claire cried out in alarm.

“I’m fine, Ms. Claire,” May said through gritted teeth, fighting back the pain. “Go find Mr. Foster, quickly.”

The room erupted with raucous laughter.

“You two? Claiming you know Mr. Foster? Do you even know who he is? He’s the wealthiest man in Cresthaven—barely half a year in the city and he’s already spent billions to secure the whole Eastborough district. Do you really think someone like you could possibly know him?”

“If you’re so desperate to meet Mr. Foster, it’s not impossible. Once our class star arrives, you can grovel at his feet—maybe he’ll be generous enough to let you catch a glimpse of Mr. Foster from a safe distance.”

“Our class star’s not just anybody these days. Trust me, he wouldn’t look twice at someone like her.”

“Oh? And just what kind of person wouldn’t I look twice at?”

Suddenly, the door swung open again. A man in a crisp white checkered suit strolled in, exuding confidence.

Back in high school, Asher Chase had been the golden boy everyone swooned over—and even now, he was still noticeably more handsome than any of the other men in the room.

But good looks were all he had left from those days.

After all, high school was five years ago.