Devoted Love:The Billionaire's Precious Wife
Chapter 661

Chapter 661: Chapter 661

"Fitch, would you mind walking my sister out?"

Fitch, who had been sitting silently on the side, too terrified to make a peep, now found himself reluctantly chasing after Diana.

"Sis."

"Who’s your sister?" Diana snapped, spinning around to glare at him. "All you do is hang out with my brother, acting like best buddies. But when it matters, you don’t even try to stop him from jumping into a pit of fire?"

Fitch felt he was being unjustly blamed. He had only heard that his best pal had hit up Dawnstar and was looking forward to catching up over dinner, but Diana had beaten him to it.

Caught in the sibling squabble, what could he, an outsider, do other than sip his water and fade into the background? He thought they’d just argue and be done with it.

But then Diana turned her wrath on him.

"Come on, Diana! You didn’t see me trying to reason with him till I was blue in the face! He wouldn’t listen to me!

What on earth does he see in that Serena, I can’t figure it out!"

Diana was speechless.

"You know well enough that Martin’s been after her for six long years. He’s obsessed. My words don’t mean squat compared to yours, and even you couldn’t sway him!"

Diana stood in front of the elevator, suddenly at a loss for words.

"Diana, just head back home and relax, leave this to me. I might not convince him right away, but I’m sure if I keep at it, he’ll come around. Besides, Serena’s such a drama queen. Sooner or later, she’s going to cross a line, and Martin will have had enough."

That made sense.

Diana felt slightly reassured.

Serena might play the gracious hostess, but that act couldn’t last forever.

Sooner or later, her brother would see Serena’s true colors.

Why should she force a breakup now?

"If you push them to split now, they’ll only cling harder to each other. Better to just let time do its work."

Just then, the elevator dinged open. Fitch quickly blocked the door for Diana to enter.

"Diana, you can go home, eat something nice, get some good rest. Don’t worry about Martin. He’s young and foolish. I’ve got this covered. I’ll sort it out perfectly!"

Diana gave him a mock glare, surprised at how smooth he could be.

"Take care, Diana." Fitch watched the elevator doors close before returning to the presidential suite.

"Man, did you not see how pissed your sister was? And you throw me under the bus? Lucky for you I’m quick on my feet, or I’d have been the one getting a beatdown!"

"You’re fine, aren’t you?" Martin glanced up briefly, then texted Serena on WhatsApp to see if she had dinner yet and if she’d like to join.

"You’re still messaging her? Did you seriously not listen to a word your sister said?" Fitch couldn’t help but blurt out. "Dude, I’m not on your side this time. Don’t you think Serena’s gone too far?"

Right then, Martin’s phone buzzed. It was a reply from Serena.

She wanted to dine alone.

Martin’s gaze dimmed as he looked at Fitch.

"You never said why you came here."

Fitch was momentarily speechless.

"I heard you were in Dawnstar, and I just wanted to catch up over dinner. If I knew you were only interested in women, I wouldn’t have bothered!"

Martin stood up.

"Let’s go."

Fitch was stunned, then excitedly said, "Are you choosing your bro over a girl?"

"It’s more like the girl didn’t choose me, so I ended up with you."

Fitch was speechless.

The backup plan!

In Martin’s world, he was nothing but the backup plan!

They headed to Sky Restaurant.

Eunice polished off her steak with refined grace and took a delicate sip of her red wine.

"Rose, darling, I’m just going to freshen up."

"Sure thing."

Rosemary eyed the feast still sprawled across the table. Mr. Morrison had been overly generous, bringing them seven or eight dishes in quick succession. There was no way the two of them could finish it all.

Just then, Serena strode into the restaurant and immediately spotted Rosemary by the window.

The humiliation she had endured earlier on Style Plaza was burning inside her, propelling her on her stilettos straight toward Rosemary.

But before she could get far, a polite interruption came from the staff.

"Excuse me, miss, do you have a reservation?" the waiter inquired with a courteous tone.

"I know her," Serena said haughtily, nodding toward the woman sitting by the window.

The waiter recognized the guest as Ms. Rose, Mrs. Griffith’s niece. Did this girl know her? Seeing they were of a similar age, perhaps they were friends.

"Would you like me to bring another chair?"

"No need, I just have a word with her and then I’ll leave."

As Serena approached Rosemary, she took note of the surroundings. Rosemary’s seat was conveniently obscured from the nearest surveillance camera by a structural column, and the cameras in the distance didn’t seem to cover this angle either.

The other tables were far enough not to eavesdrop, and the waiters, busy clearing the remnants of a sumptuous meal, paid them no mind.

It was a quiet hour with only a few patrons from Dawnstar scattered around, none of whom seemed to recognize her.

It felt like fate was conspiring in her favor. Spotting a half-finished glass of champagne on a recently vacated table, Serena snagged it and stormed towards Rosemary.

Rosemary, absorbed in the night view beyond the massive glass wall, caught sight of an angry figure reflected in the pane. The figure hurled the contents of a glass her way.

With lightning reflexes, Rosemary snatched a napkin to shield herself and dodged, retaliating by splashing her glass of red wine at the aggressor.

Serena hadn’t anticipated that her champagne assault would barely splash Rosemary, nor that Rosemary would douse her in red wine.

The wine cascaded down her beret, stained her face, and trickled into her dress.

Her CNL pink ensemble was ruined, and just as she let out a shriek, Rosemary had her pinned against the table.

Serena’s left cheek now made an intimate acquaintance with the remains of a beef dish.

By the time Mr. Morrison and the waitstaff arrived, Rosemary declared,

"I’ve got this."

They were all taken aback by the audacity of the girl who dared to drench Rosemary in champagne in full view of everyone.

And today of all days, with Mrs. Griffith present!

Clearly, this person was unhinged—a complete lunatic—to offend Mrs. Griffith’s niece.

"What are you doing? Let me go!" Serena had intended to make a splash and dash, thinking Rosemary would be too preoccupied with cleaning herself up to bother with the culprit.

But Rosemary’s swift reaction caught her off guard, and what was infuriating was that only a few drops of champagne had hit Rosemary.

"Have I been too kind to you lately?" Rosemary held her tight, visibly annoyed. She had previously dismissed Serena as a mere jester, unworthy of attention, but now her brazenness was escalating.

"So fond of splashing drinks, are you?" Rosemary glanced at the wine on the table.

"What a shame this is a 1945 Romanée-Conti. I can’t bear to waste it.

Manager, what’s the cheapest swill you’ve got?"

Mr. Morrison quickly chimed in,

"Ms. Rose, we have a 1951 Chivas Estate red wine."

"Bring me two bottles."

"Rosemary, what are you planning to do?" Serena, unable to break free, resorted to threats.

"You wouldn’t dare, right?"

"You’ve got the gall to do it in front of everyone. Why shouldn’t I?"

Rosemary had the wine uncorked, pressed Serena down onto the plate, and poured both bottles over her head.