Devoted Love:The Billionaire's Precious Wife
Chapter 662

Chapter 662: Chapter 662

"Ah." Serena’s scream was cut short as the red wine poured into her mouth.

Even with her eyes tightly shut, some of the wine managed to seep into her eyes, stinging them painfully.

And her ears—since she was being held face down against the plate, one ear was filled with the unwelcome flow of the wine.

Rosemary clutched Serena’s hair with force, dumping two whole bottles over her head, her expression unmoved.

Serena’s hands flailed behind her, desperately trying to hit Rosemary, only to be restrained by two waiters who stepped forward.

Drenched in wine, even the warmth of the restaurant’s heating couldn’t stop Serena from shivering as the liquid soaked through her clothes.

That damn Rosemary, how dare she?

How dare she humiliate her in front of all these people?

After emptying the bottles, Rosemary released her grip, casually tossing Serena aside.

Serena lost her balance and toppled to the floor, her head hitting a nearby chair.

Mr. Morrison and several waiters quickly surrounded Rosemary, asking anxiously, "Ms. Rose, are you alright?"

One handed Rosemary a sanitizing wet wipe to clean her hands. Another delicately dabbed at the wine stains on her dress, while four others swiftly cleaned up the chaotic table and replaced it with a fresh tablecloth. One knelt to wipe the wine from Rosemary’s shoes, and another hurried to mop the floor.

Meanwhile, Serena was left in her misery, ignored by all.

Serena couldn’t understand. Rosemary wasn’t some local big shot, so why were these servants giving her such attention?

Could it be that the wretch had spent a hefty sum, becoming a VIP customer of this establishment?

"Ms. Rose, I am so sorry you were startled. It’s truly regrettable that your dining experience was marred. I will have her removed at once!" Mr. Morrison hurriedly called for security, not forgetting to add, "And should that lunatic show up again, she’s banned from entering!"

"What lunatic? Let go of me, let go." Serena was dragged out.

Eunice, after finishing up in the restroom, received a call. It was one of her subordinates reporting on a job, and after listening to his long-winded explanation for about twenty minutes—which also made her darling niece wait—she lost her patience.

"Meet me at the Sky Restaurant, 69th floor, and talk there."

After hanging up, Eunice, a tad irritated, clicked her heels out of the restroom and into the restaurant.

Mr. Morrison quickly caught up to her, carefully explaining everything that had occurred.

Eunice noticed the restaurant had cleared out, and her table was reset, with a line of waiters standing at attention, seemingly bracing for a scolding.

"The spot where Ms. Rose was seated is a blind spot for the cameras. They only caught the table legs and below her waist. There’s no vital footage," Mr. Morrison said, trembling as he handed Eunice the iPad.

Eunice’s face was a mask of frost, her naturally commanding presence sharpening to a deadly edge with her temper flared.

Indeed, the surveillance only showed below the waist of the perpetrator: just a pink skirt, a pair of snow boots, and the spilled wine on the floor.

"What is this mess!" Eunice lost her patience, tossing the iPad back at Mr. Morrison. "I step away for a moment to the restroom, and my niece suffers such an insult. What if I had gone home for something? Would I even find her well when I returned?"

Mr. Morrison had never seen Eunice so furious. Her last words, especially—raised in volume—sent a shiver through everyone present, heads bowed in fear.

"Mrs. Griffith, don’t get your feathers ruffled. I’ll just have a word with someone downstairs." Mr. Morrison couldn’t handle Eunice’s raging temper and quickly looked for a scapegoat.

He turned fiercely to the waiter in front of him. "Tell me, who let that lunatic in?"

A young waitress stepped forward, visibly shaken, her face contorting as if she were on the verge of tears.

"I’m so sorry, Mr. Morrison. She said she knew Ms. Rose, had a few words for her. She was dressed in some fancy limited-edition getup, looked like a million bucks, so I reckoned she was a friend of Ms. Rose’s. I didn’t dare give her the cold shoulder, so I let her through."

After all, they shouldn’t just give Ms. Rose’s friends the third degree, right? If she’d put up a fuss, she might’ve caught an earful.

"I never dreamed she was off her rocker. I’m so sorry, Mr. Morrison, my bad. It won’t happen again, I swear."

Sally’s eyes brimmed with tears, her hands fidgeting nervously.

"You think a ’sorry’ makes everything peachy? Didn’t you see Ms. Rose get splashed with champagne? Do you have any idea how much her outfit costs? I’m afraid the price tag might just scare you to death!"

"I’m really sorry, Mr. Morrison, truly sorry. I’ll go apologize to Ms. Rose right away."

Sally approached Rosemary again, bowing incessantly, tears streaming as she said, "I’m so sorry, Ms. Rose. So sorry, Mrs. Griffith. I had no clue who she was. If I’d known she’d pull such a crazy stunt, I would’ve never let her in."

"Cut the waterworks. They’re ruining Ms. Rose and Mrs. Griffith’s mood! The damage is done, what good is an apology now!" Mr. Morrison barked, reducing Sally to even more pitiful sobs.

"It’s not your fault," Rosemary said, her gaze falling on the young girl before her. She was about her age, yet already hustling for a paycheck.

Seeing a chance for things to cool down, Mr. Morrison quickly scolded, "Ms. Rose’s gracious enough to let it slide, and you’re not on your knees thanking her? If you had to cover the cost of her dress, you’d be working for fifty years and still not make a dent!"

Sally was painfully aware of the price tag on Rosemary’s clothes. She couldn’t afford to pay. That Rosemary was kind enough not to fuss was a relief, and gratitude nearly brought her to her knees.

Rosemary quickly raised a hand to stop her. "You did nothing wrong. Why kneel?

If every customer had to be grilled before entering a restaurant, would the place stay in business? Who would dare to dine there?

And who can guarantee that a customer won’t lie? That they were a good person?

Besides, you wiped the champagne off my dress right away. I should be thanking you."

Sally never expected Ms. Rose to turn around and thank her; she was overcome with emotion.

Eunice, knowing the root of the problem wasn’t with the restaurant staff, recalled a pink skirt from the security footage and a familiar face.

She couldn’t help but ask, "Rose, is she the one who tangled with you over that dress on Style Plaza today? Do you know her?"

Rosemary admitted, "Yes, that’s her. We know each other."

"Everyone, please leave."

Eunice was having a hard time swallowing her pride. She pulled out her phone and texted Leno:

[There’s a girl leaving the Sky Restaurant, in a pink suit, snow boots, with long wavy brown hair. Find her, stuff her in a sack, and give her a good thrashing.]

Leno was a loyal henchman she’d taken under her wing from Alexander.

After giving the order, Eunice pocketed her phone and looked at Rosemary. "You didn’t lose out, did you?"

Rosemary replied with a calm smile, "Not at all. She’s the one at a loss."