Ryan smiled. He had known Clifford would agree. There were things he had to buy for his wife, and this time, he wasn't going to put it off again.
Vanessa had to admit that today's dishes were exceptionally good. Before she realized it, she had already eaten far more than usual.
"When I went to refill my rice," someone whispered nearby, "I heard that most of the dishes today were cooked by Mr. Ryan's wife."
The moment she heard that, the rice in Vanessa's throat seemed to stick. She coughed violently, her face flushing red.
"These dishes were made by Mary?" Vanessa asked, her voice cold and strained.
"Yes," Patricia replied indifferently. "Honestly, those rumors were ridiculous. Didn't I tell you before? With Ryan's looks, how could he marry an ugly wife?"
There was clear disdain in Patricia's eyes. She had never liked girls who relied on youth and beauty to act arrogantly.
