Yvette Ray’s eyelashes trembled slightly as she opened her eyes.
Those clear eyes were immediately shrouded in pain as she recalled the photo she had just seen.
Tears slipped from the corners of her eyes, and her heart twisted in agony, feeling as though half her life had been taken away.
No wonder Eleanor Sterling sent her to Serene Isle, no wonder she had been pushed away; it turned out Moira Ray was in trouble.
Yvette was overwhelmed with despair, recalling Moira’s innocent face, her heart shattered into pieces.
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Hatred ravaged through Yvette’s eyes, and her face turned cold as ice.
She supported herself to stand up, noticing two middle-aged maids standing at the door, seemingly chatting.
Yvette thought for a moment, then suddenly fell to the ground, crying out in pain.
The two exchanged glances, then pushed the door open and came in, "Hey, what’s wrong with you?"
Yvette’s expression was one of agony, "Help, my... my stomach hurts so much."
"Are you alright?" one maid asked.
"A doctor, get me a doctor."
The maid hesitated; Claire had instructed them to stand guard at the door and not leave.
But now it seemed like Yvette was in unbearable pain.
"Ah!" Yvette screamed and closed her eyes.
Seeing this, a trace of panic flashed across the two maids’ faces, and they were at a loss, unsure of what to do.
"She... she wouldn’t die, would she?"
"What should we do now?"
"You go find a doctor."
The remaining maid looked at Yvette lying on the ground and stepped forward to check on her condition, only for Yvette to suddenly open her eyes, causing the maid to scream in fright.
Quick as lightning, Yvette grabbed her by the throat, coldly saying, "Don’t move, or I’ll kill you."
She didn’t know any martial arts, was merely trying to scare her.
Terrified, the maid nodded immediately, "Miss, calm down."
Yvette dragged her to the door, then shoved her back into the room, shut the door, and turned to run toward the direction of the banquet hall.
By now, the banquet had officially started.
At the center of the hall, an emcee was holding a microphone, his face full of joy, standing beside Ronan Keating and Claire Truman.
"Welcome everyone to the union of The Keating Family and The Truman Family; the groom Ronan Keating and Claire Truman have been each other’s first love."
He turned to Claire and asked, "Miss Truman, having successfully married the man you’ve adored since childhood, how do you feel?"
Claire took the microphone, smiling sweetly, "Of course, I’m very happy and content. We’ve known each other for years, faced no small amount of obstacles, and never thought we’d finally end up together."
At this moment, Eleanor Sterling signaled to a reporter in the corner, who nodded quietly.
He suddenly raised his voice, "Miss Truman, it’s heard that Ronan Keating’s first love might not have been you."
The room instantly fell silent.
The atmosphere became tense; Claire’s expression immediately darkened, and her gaze toward that reporter turned icy.
The emcee’s words were under her authorization, intended to make others think she was Ronan’s only, but unexpectedly, it was exposed.
This reporter truly lacked tact. Could he be here intentionally to ruin her wedding?
The reporter continued, "I heard Mr. Keating’s first love was Miss Yvette Ray. Lying isn’t very nice."
Claire’s expression grew increasingly grim, her teeth nearly gnashing as she shouted, "Which outlet are you from? Get him out of here for me!"
Soon, the reporter was dragged away, but his disruption had vanished any romantic atmosphere, leaving the scene only with awkwardness and unease.