Chapter 68: The Discovery
Cora’s mother beamed when the beautician praised her daughter. All her nervousness vanished, and she launched into a warm, animated chat.
Downstairs, Cora flipped through a magazine, waiting contentedly. The quiet hum of the beauty center, the faint scent of essential oils—it almost felt peaceful.
Until a shrill, all-too-familiar voice cut through the air.
“Fine, since you’re not coming, I’ll treat myself to a spa day! Okay, okay, bye, honey!”
Cora looked up. The woman who breezed through the door was in her forties, hair chopped into heavy bangs, her face lined and over-painted, squeezed into a tight pencil skirt and ten-centimeter heels.
She looked vaguely familiar.
The woman strode to the front desk. “Is Ms. Qi busy? I forgot to book again!”
“Welcome! Ms. Qi is still with another client,” the receptionist replied sweetly. “Would you like to wait? Also, your seasonal card is almost used up—should we renew it today?”
The woman laughed smugly. “Oh, that’s no problem! My husband’s about to come into a big pile of money. I’ll open a year card next time!”
Her voice carried across the entire lobby. Cora frowned but kept reading—until the woman’s phone rang again.
“Hello, darling,” the woman cooed, hitting speakerphone.
A man’s voice answered, warm and unmistakable: “Fan-fan, have you eaten yet?”
The magazine slipped in Cora’s hands. That voice.
She knew it better than she wanted to.
The woman giggled. “Not yet. I don’t want to eat alone. Come keep me company!”
“I can’t tonight,” came the familiar chuckle. “Something came up. Eat first.”
Cora was already on her feet, the world narrowing to a ringing in her ears.
The woman pouted into the phone. “You always say that! If you don’t come, I won’t eat!”
She hung up with a sigh, then noticed Cora’s stare—and smirked, mistaking it for jealousy.
Cora crushed the magazine in her fist. “Your husband,” she said evenly, “his name wouldn’t happen to be Gary Dev, would it?”
The woman blinked, startled. “How do you know my husband?”
Cora closed her eyes for one breath. Of all the places… The woman her father had been seeing behind their backs was standing right in front of her.
She grabbed her bag and turned toward the treatment rooms—only to freeze.
Her mother was standing there. Pale. Motionless.
“Mom…” Cora’s stomach dropped. No, no, please tell me she didn’t hear.
Her mother’s face was colorless. She pushed past Cora and marched straight toward the woman.
“That man you just called ‘husband’—he’s from Riverside Town, isn’t he? The Dev family?”
“Yes,” the woman said warily. “Who are you? How do you know my husband?” She looked the older woman up and down, then sneered. “Don’t tell me you’re another one chasing him. Please, lady, he’s way out of your league.”
Cora’s mother swayed. Her knees buckled, and she collapsed backward.
“Mom!” Cora lunged forward, catching her.
“It—it must be a misunderstanding…”
Her mother’s grip clamped around Cora’s wrist, fierce enough to hurt. “You knew,” she rasped. “Didn’t you?”
Cora didn’t move. Didn’t deny it. She could only shake her head, helpless.
That was enough. Her mother’s eyes went blank. She wrenched free and stumbled toward the exit.
The beautician ran up, panicked. “She said she needed the restroom and just—went!”
Cora barely heard her. “Mom! Wait!”
The mistress, realizing something was wrong, charged after them and blocked the doorway. “Hold on! How do you two know my husband?”
Cora’s temper finally snapped. She’d been planning to break it gently, to shield her mother from this exact pain—and this woman had ripped the truth into the open with her cheap perfume and her louder-than-life arrogance.
“He’s still married,” Cora said coldly. “You know that?”
“So what?” The woman’s tone dripped contempt. “He said he’s filing soon. As soon as I get pregnant, he’ll divorce her and marry me.”
Cora’s mother trembled violently, her lips bloodless. “He said—what?”
Cora held her upright, terrified she’d collapse again.
“Mom, please…”
But her mother pushed her aside and walked right up to the other woman.
“What are you doing?” the mistress barked, taking a step back. “Stay away from me!”
“Don’t touch her,” Cora warned, stepping between them, her voice like ice. “Try it.”
“Oh, I’ll do more than try,” the woman snapped and swung her hand toward Cora’s face—
—and found her wrist caught midair.
She jerked, but the grip was iron.
Cora looked up. One of Julian’s bodyguards stood beside her, calm and expressionless. She exhaled shakily and nodded in thanks before guiding her mother toward the door.
The woman shrieked. “Who the hell are you? Let me go! Do you know who I am? You think you can lay hands on me? Manager! Are you just going to watch me get assaulted in your own shop?”
The manager hesitated. The woman was an annoying regular, but a paying one. After a pause, he tried to smooth things over—and made it worse.
“Stop them! They stole something!”
Cora almost laughed. Unbelievable.
Her mother was barely conscious of anything now, numb from shock. Cora’s only goal was to get her out.
The bodyguard released the mistress and stepped protectively in front of them, signaling for another to bring the car around. But he couldn’t risk hurting anyone—not in a public place, not when Cora was involved.
He pulled out his phone and reported the situation to Austin in a low voice.
The mistress, emboldened by the staff’s hesitation, shrieked again, her voice echoing through the lobby. “Get them! That mother-daughter pair’s been after my man for months! Homewreckers! Go on—beat them! If anything happens, I’ll take the blame!”
The room erupted into chaos.