Honey, You're a Billionaire by Chandler Solar

Chapter 511 We Are Friends Still reeling from her humiliation at the wedding and its aftermath, Yara finally snapped. She marched up to Rose and gave her a hard shove.

Caught off guard, Rose staggered backward, only to be steadied by a pair of soft, delicate hands. The hands were gentle, yet firm.

She instinctively turned to face her rescuer and found herself momentarily captivated by the stranger's appearance.

Long, lustrous hair framed the woman's face, accentuated by an elegant beret perched atop her head. A black skirt and white blouse gracefully highlighted her slender figure.

Though dark sunglasses concealed her eyes, the woman's refined features still managed to convey an unexpected warmth.

"Are you okay?" the woman asked, her raspy voice taking Rose by surprise.

Sensing Rose's discomfort, the woman smiled wryly. "Sorry, my voice isn't the most pleasant. I suffered an injury years ago, so..." Realizing her mistake, Rose quickly apologized. "No, I didn't mean any offense. I..." She had no intention of dredging up painful memories.

"It's fine. You meant no harm. Besides, I'm used to it." The woman shrugged, her smile bright and radiant as if she really didn't mind. Yet the simple phrase, "I'm used to it", alluded to the challenges she must have faced. Rose felt even more apologetic. "I'm really sorry..." "Really, it's nothing," the woman reassured her before turning her curious gaze to Yara. "Anyway, what's happening here?" From the moment the woman had appeared, Yara had been sizing her up. Even though she hadn't been back in the country for long, Yara was familiar with the notable families in Regalia, and this woman didn't seem to belong to any of them. Besides, she was certain she had never encountered someone with such a distinct, raspy voice. She scoffed.

"Just another nobody trying to weasel her way in, huh? Whatever. Rose, I'll let it slide today so that you don't get in the way of my charity work." With a haughty smile, Yara dismissed them, her attitude dripping with arrogance.

Despite her tarnished reputation in the entertainment industry following her disastrous wedding, Yara still held onto her status as the eldest daughter of the Maize family.

Furthermore, though she was reluctant to acknowledge it, her marriage had made her a member of the Finch family too. Nonetheless, her haughty behavior only amused Rose.

"She seems to have something against you," the woman remarked in her raspy voice.

Rose shrugged helplessly. "Seems so." She had an inkling of where this resentment might have stemmed from but found the whole situation unjust. After all, she had always viewed herself as innocent in the entire affair. The woman then asked, "Are you trying to get in?" Rose nodded. "Yes." She was grateful to this woman who had helped her earlier and felt guilty about her unintended reaction to the woman's voice. So, she let her guard down. "But you're having trouble getting in, right?" the woman inquired further.

"Yes," Rose admitted again, planning to contact Anastasia for assistance.

However, before she could do anything, the woman affectionately linked arms with her. "Don't worry. I'll take you in." As she spoke, the woman presented an invitation letter to the staff member. "She's my friend, and we ctogether. Is that alright?" It was common for guests to bring companions to auctions, so the staff member didn't object. Before Rose fully realized what was happening, the woman had already led her inside.

"Hey! You! The one with your nose in the air..." the woman's raspy voice called out, snapping Rose back to reality.

Nearby, Yara turned in response to the voice, only to see the sunglasses-clad woman waving at her. It was clear that the snarky remark was directed at her.

Yara's face flushed with anger. The fact that this woman was invited and brought Rose in with her was unbelievable and infuriating. She clenched her fists, seething with frustration and resentment. Meanwhile, the woman seemed to be thoroughly enjoying herself, laughing as if she had just scored a personal victory.

Rose was taken aback by the woman's audacity but couldn't help feeling a sense of satisfaction as she watched Yara storm off in a huff.

Although she knew that Yara's grudge against her would only intensify after this, it was difficult not to feel a little victorious at that moment.

When the woman turned her gaze back to Rose, they shared a knowing smile.

"So, does this mean we're friends now?" the woman asked, her tone sincere. Even through the sunglasses, Rose could sense the genuine warmth in her eyes.

"Of course!" Rose replied with a smile, knowing that their connection wasn't just about being rescued from a tight spot. There was something else about this woman, a sense of familiarity that Rose couldn't quite put her finger on.

"I have to go. I'm meeting someone," the woman said, glancing at her watch before hastily bidding farewell to Rose and making her way toward the elevators.

As Rose observed the woman's departing figure, a sudden frown creased her forehead. For a fleeting moment, she could have sworn that she was looking at Kelly. "Kelly... It couldn't be, could it?" she thought.

Even though the woman had been wearing sunglasses, Rose was certain that the face behind them wasn't Kelly's.

Despite this, an unsettling feeling lingered, and Rose found herself stepping forward, almost instinctively following the woman.

Upon reaching the elevator, the woman turned around, and their eyes locked. Rose abruptly halted in her tracks. With a bright smile on her face, the woman waved at Rose, causing her to pause momentarily. "No, that definitely isn't Kelly. How could it have been Kelly?" A bitter smile graced her lips as that thought crossed her mind. Rose concluded that her intense longing to find Kelly must have made her see traces of her in someone else's form.

She then carefully reconsidered the woman's silhouette. Although they were of similar height, there were discernible differences in their physique.

Taking a deep breath, Rose tried to clear her mind and let go of the thoughts. There was no sense in dwelling on it.

However, as the elevator doors slid shut, the woman's bright smile vanished, replaced by a dark, chilling expression.

"Rose..." The woman whispered the nin her raspy voice, making it sound ominous and charged with something sinister.

She muttered, "So, we're friends now..." A twisted sense of anticipation filled her. She was genuinely curious about what it would be like to be friends with Rose.

The charity auction that evening was

held in the opulent auction hall on the top floor. Rose arrived to find the om room already bustling with guests The auction hadn't started, but Rose could see Anastasia engaging with the attendees from a distance.

Anastasia was dressed in a champagne-colored evening gown that accentuated her flawless figure, with her long hair elegantly styled to ope side. She exuded an air of grace and sophistication. "Congratulations, Ms. Young," a guest nearby said, their tone filled with a knowing undertone. Although they didn't spell it out, everyone present understood the implication. It was widely known that Anastasia had been childhood friends with Jonathan and had harbored feelings for him for years.

There were even rumors that the two were destined to marry. But a few years ago, Anastasia shocked everyone by marrying Anthony instead, leaving many in Regalia puzzled.

A year ago, rumors began circulating that Anastasia and Anthony were om going through a divorce, with sspeculating that she could never forget Jonathan and was divorcing to be with him once more. Recently, the union between the Finch and Maize families, where Yara wed jam, who had only just been recognized as part of the Finch family rather than Jonathan, only added fuel to these speculations.

QUMS "Ms. Young, will Mr. Finch be attending tonight? Surely he wouldn't miss a charity auction like this," someone inquired, their words laced with innuendo.

Their implication was clear-they were suggesting that Jonathan would be there to celebrate her newfound single status with her.

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