After her rebirth

Laura stared at Clara's beautiful face, her mind going completely blank.

So, Clara had known all along that she liked Desmond.

All those cozy moments with Desmond right in front of her were totally on purpose.

Laura had only gotten close to Clara because of Desmond, but she never wanted to break them up. She genuinely wanted to be friends with Clara. But in the end, Clara played her like a fool.

She could even imagine how Clara must have looked at her, laughing at her behind her back.

Hatred flashed in Laura's eyes, and she lunged at Clara, ready to hit her.

Clara was ready, swiftly stepping back to evade Laura's attack.

Clara glanced at the bar's security guard, beckoned him over, and when he got close, she said, "Strip her clothes, and I'll give you a thousand bucks." The tall security guard's face lit up with excitement at the offer.

He nodded eagerly. "Alright, leave it to me!"

Laura trembled all over, looked up in shock, and tried to run. But before she could take a few steps, her hair was yanked back hard, causing a burning pain on her scalp. The security guard quickly restrained Laura, grabbing her hands with one hand and using the other to strip her clothes.

Laura was in a flimsy dress, and with a little effort, her body was suddenly on display.

"No! Clara, make him stop! Clara!" Laura screamed in terror, her face pale.

Clara stood at a distance, wrapped in a coat, looking elegant and noble.

Clara laughed coldly, cruel and hideous, "You're all about seducing men, huh? Well, I'll strip you naked and let every guy who walks by see what a slut you are."

Then Clara shouted, "Come on, everyone, look at this shameless woman who seduced my husband."

Most of the men who came to the bar were there for fun.

Although Laura had looked somewhat emaciated, she was raised in luxury, with smooth and delicate skin, instantly attracting a lot of attention.

Passing men stared lecherously at Laura, brazenly eyeing her naked body.

Laura's bare arms hugged her chest as she crouched on the cold, dirty ground. The pain from the security guard pressing on her was nothing compared to the humiliation and shame she felt. Lying on the ground, Laura's tears flowed.

The fierce wind blew, and Laura curled up, trying hard to protect her body.

Clara adjusted her coat, gave a cold smile, and turned elegantly, heading back to the bar.

At that moment, a man touched Laura and asked lustfully, "Your skin's silky smooth, and you're a stunner. How much for the night? Let's have a wild time together."

Laura screamed in fear, desperately avoiding the dirty hands reaching for her, "Get away, don't touch me!"

"This chick looks familiar. She looks like Jackson's daughter, the broken businessman we saw on TV."

"Really?" A man's eyes lit up hearing this, "A delicate wealthy girl with soft skin, sounds like a whole new level of excitement."

Several men gathered around, and Laura's body, blown by the cold wind, trembled in fear. She bit her lip so hard it almost bled.

Laura closed her eyes in despair, vowing to repay Clara a hundredfold for today's humiliation.

Even if she died, she would haunt Clara as a ghost.

Suddenly, the surroundings quieted down.

A warm coat was draped over her, covering all of Laura's shame and humiliation.

Oliver looked at Laura, frowned, and asked, "Are you Jackson's daughter? What happened to you?"

A few years ago, Oliver had collaborated with Jackson. The Manners family and the Evans family had similar histories, both rising from nothing to sudden wealth.

The old-money aristocrats looked down on them, and in their efforts to integrate into high society, for this reason, Oliver and Jackson had shared a mutual understanding for a while. When Jackson was arrested, Oliver had sighed for quite some time.

Laura looked up, her dark eyes dazed for a moment before quickly recognizing the man in front of her.

It was Clara's father, also her father's business partner.

"Uncle Oliver."

Oliver said to his subordinate, "Check if anyone took photos just now, make sure they delete them, and pay them to keep their mouth shut." The subordinate in a black suit nodded and went to handle it.

After ordering, Oliver helped Laura up, "I'll get you a room and buy you some new clothes, so your mom won't worry when you get home." Laura hoarsely replied, "Okay, thank you."

In the car, seeing a hospital ahead, Oliver asked, "Do you need to go to the hospital?"

Laura's body was battered and bruised.

As a man, Oliver felt it was inappropriate to ask more.

Laura shook her head, "No need, I just got beaten up, I'll be fine in a few days."

Hearing this, Oliver's brows furrowed heavily, and his expression darkened.

From the car window, Laura stared vacantly at Oliver's reflection.

Oliver had become wealthy through entrepreneurship over a decade ago, much like her father's rise, starting from scratch.

Oliver was now forty-six. In his youth, he was a handsome man and the only college student in his village at the time. His good maintenance and exercise made him appear youthful. Compared to the burly Jackson, Oliver appeared more elegant and steady, with a sense of the authority of a successful businessman.

After getting a room, Oliver escorted her inside and then left.

It was a presidential suite, with several clothing bags on the bed, all from high-end brands.

One of them was a brand Laura used to love.

Laura turned on the shower, ignoring the cold water, as if it could wash away all the dirt and humiliation on her body. She stood trembling in front of the dressing mirror.

Laura looked at herself in the mirror, her face swollen with a red slap mark, her big eyes set in her small face, making her look even more pitiful.

Laura slowly clenched her hands.

After Jackson went to prison, her once happy life changed wholly. The people who used to follow her now mocked and humiliated her.

The relatives who once loved her now turned into ruthless demons, not only taking over her father's company but also trying to drain her blood bit by bit, using her mother to threaten her, sending her to be a hostess girl. She was already a person standing on the edge of a cliff, teetering on the brink. It was Clara who pushed her off, sending her into a dark, devouring hell.

Since she was enduring a living hell, why should Clara be allowed to enjoy herself? She would drag Clara down with her.

Laura caressed her young and beautiful face, her red lips slowly curling up.

She wanted to be with Oliver! She had to!