I Became the Billionaire's Fake Lover to Get My Revenge
Chapter 68: What Kind of Enemy I Am

Chapter 68: What Kind of Enemy I Am

"Where did she go?" Anna whispered, her eyes scanning the crowd with a growing sense of urgency. She could have sworn she’d seen her heading toward the reception area—but now, it was as if she had vanished into thin air.

With a sigh of resignation, Anna briefly closed her eyes, wondering if it had all been a trick of her imagination. Just as she turned to head back to the wine tasting area, someone bumped into her, and the cold splash of wine nearly soaked the front of her dress. She dodged it just in time.

"Oh my God! I’m so sorry! Are you alright?"

Anna’s breath caught in her throat, her pulse thudding in her ears. It was a strange, jarring moment—she had just been imagining how it would feel to face Marienne again, and now, here she was.

Her hair was still that unmistakable artificial shade of blonde, cut short and neat, barely reaching the middle of her neck. Her large green eyes, framed by thick, exaggerated lashes, blinked at her with feigned innocence.

Marienne fluttered her lashes as if in a daze, her glossy pink lips parted in mock concern.

"I’m so sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was going. This place is just so breathtaking—I got completely distracted! I’m such a klutz!"

Anna stared at her in stunned silence, her wide eyes betraying a tangled mess of shock and fear.

"Miss Dumas, are you alright? Are you... mad at me?" Marienne asked, her voice laced with an almost saccharine sweetness.

Those wide, supposedly innocent eyes—Anna had always hated them. They were the same manipulative gaze she wore whenever she wanted to appear kind and approachable. And frustratingly, it worked.

If Anna hadn’t known better, she might have fallen for Marienne’s act this time too.

"I’m not mad," Anna finally breathed, forcing a pleasant smile to her lips. "I should apologize—I wasn’t looking where I was going."

"Oh, not at all! I’m the one at fault here," Marienne insisted, reaching out to grasp Anna’s arm with the kind of familiarity that felt far too presumptuous for two people who were, in truth, anything but close. "I should’ve been more careful, especially while carrying a drink! Please, there’s no need for you to apologize."

A flicker of irritation prickled along Anna’s skin, rising like static beneath her composure.

This sugary-sweet act—so overly saccharine it bordered on nauseating—was something she had long grown accustomed to observing from afar. But being on the receiving end of it stirred something unpleasant in her gut.

"How very kind of you to say that," Anna replied, her voice polite but cool as her gaze dropped to Marienne’s empty glass. "Would you like that refilled? I can have someone take care of it for you."

Marienne blinked, her lashes fluttering in exaggerated surprise as her eyes grew wide with delight. "You’re so generous! Just what I’d expect from the gracious hostess of such a lovely event."

Then, as if struck by sudden realization, her expression shifted, paling slightly. "Oh, goodness—I completely forgot to introduce myself! My name is Marienne Rochester."

She offered a dazzling smile, prompting Anna to take her hand for a brief shake. "Though I suppose I should start getting used to a different name," Marienne added with a coy little laugh. "You see, I’m engaged."

Anna’s smile remained fixed, though it no longer reached her eyes. What a clever move.

Marienne had seized the opportunity to drop her engagement into the conversation—likely in an attempt to elevate her social standing in Anna’s eyes. But she had conveniently omitted the identity of her fiancé, no doubt because Susanne’s scandal was still too raw, too fresh, too precarious to touch explicitly.

I didn’t expect anything less from a conniving bitch like you, Anna thought, her expression blank, unreadable.

"Rochester, of course," she then replied smoothly, quickly sifting through her mind for the most fitting response. "Nice to meet you."

"You know of me?" Marienne’s eyes sparkled with eagerness, the way a starstruck fan might light up after being recognized by their idol. "I’m so pleased!"

Anna nodded, her smile sharpening ever so slightly. "Yes, you’re Robert Hyde’s fiancée, aren’t you? I saw the engagement announcement in the news." She paused—just long enough to draw in a breath of dramatic effect. "What a shame," she added coolly, letting the edge of her words cut just enough to sting, "such a scandal."

Marienne flinched, the corners of her brows tightening for a fleeting second. It was clear she hadn’t expected such a direct jab. But Anna wasn’t about to let the moment slip by without reminding her exactly where she stood.

Still, Marienne recovered quickly—clever enough to keep her composure intact.

Forcing a bright, exaggerated smile, she gave a soft sigh and pouted like a scolded child begging for sympathy. "It can’t be helped," she murmured with feigned melancholy. "My future sister-in-law is... troubled. This isn’t her first misstep, but this time, we couldn’t just ignore it. She’ll be punished accordingly for such a disgraceful mistake."

Then, with a practiced flick of her tone, Marienne changed the subject as if brushing dust off her shoulder. Her voice turned light and sugary again.

"But let’s not talk about unpleasant things! This party is simply exquisite—and the venue! I’ve never heard of someone buying a vineyard before. You must be quite the connoisseur of fine wine!"

Anna couldn’t help but chuckle at her attempt to sprinkle in a French word—connoisseur—as if it lent her some air of sophistication. Marienne’s obsession with all things French was just as intense as Robert had once described, and Anna found it, frankly, a little pathetic.

"Well," Anna began, letting her gaze drift across the vineyard as they turned a corner and stepped into the quaint garden that led toward the sun-drenched grapevines. "My family owns a few vineyards in France as well. We’ve always had an appreciation for fine, locally produced wine. My mother used to say that the Dumas lineage has wine running through its veins instead of blood."

"Vineyards in France?" Marienne’s eyes widened again, her face lighting up with such over-the-top delight that it bordered on theatrical. "I swear, Miss Dumas, this must be fate! You have no idea how fascinated I am with France! I just know we’re going to be such good friends, you and I."

Anna smiled and shut her eyes for a moment, biting back the laugh that threatened to escape. She was certain that if she looked at Marienne’s eager expression for even a second longer, she would crack.

Friends? Highly unlikely. But I’ll do my best to make sure you never find out what kind of enemy I truly am.