Chapter 787

Chapter 787:

Wilma’s heart twisted in pain, the heavy accusation cutting her deeply.

“I did all of it for your sake! Hadley simply wasn’t good enough for you!”

“Hmm?”

Denver paused abruptly, stunned by her words, and then began laughing bitterly.

“Heh, heh…”

He couldn’t stop.

Wilma exchanged a troubled glance with Roderick, anxiety clear in their eyes.

“Denver…”

“Stop it, Denver!”

Denver finally stopped laughing, raising a coldly sarcastic eyebrow at his mother. “Hadley wasn’t good enough for me, so instead you chose someone like Astrid?”

“What absurdity is that?”

Wilma shot back with icy disdain. “What’s wrong with Astrid, pray tell? The Jenkins lineage boasts dignity and refinement.”

“Dignity and refinement?!” Denver scoffed, incredulous. He snatched up his phone, unlocked it with a swipe, and opened the incriminating photo. With a flick, he sent it to Wilma.

A faint smirk curled his lips. “I’ve forwarded it to you. Feast your eyes—behold the bride you so meticulously handpicked for me!” With that, he spun on his heel and stormed off.

“Denver! Where are you going? The Jenkins family is joining us for supper this evening!” Wilma called after him, pressing a hand to her brow in exasperation.

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She turned to Roderick, worry etching her features. “What are we to do?”

Roderick’s brow furrowed as he nudged her gently. “Didn’t Denver send you something? Check your phone.”

“Oh, right!”

Wilma snapped out of her daze, fumbling for her phone. She unlocked it hastily and gasped, color draining from her face. The world blurred before her eyes, and she staggered.

“Wilma!” Roderick lunged forward, catching her just in time. He scooped up her phone and glanced at the screen. Fury flushed his face. “The Jenkins have brought disgrace upon themselves!”

“Humph!”

Wilma steadied herself, clutching her husband’s arm and grinding her teeth in indignation. “Dignified and cultured, indeed! How splendid of them!”

She whirled toward the servants, voice sharp. “Cease all preparations! Forget the dinner!”

With that, she ascended the stairs in a huff. Moments later, she descended in fresh attire.

Roderick eyed her with concern. “Where are you headed?”

“Mind your own affairs,” Wilma replied coolly, a sneer curling her lips. “What values do they suppose our family upholds? The Jenkins have stooped to shameless depths. Did you think I would just stomach such an affront?”

At the threshold of the Jenkins mansion, Noreen greeted Wilma, her tone polite yet curious. “Mrs. Moran.”

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