Mr. Law's Official Announcement: He is a Wife-Doting Fanatic!

Miss Cecilia stood coldly beneath the sunlight, her silhouette tall and slender as bamboo, with the imposing courthouse monument behind her, as though she might fuse into the soaring structure itself.

”Ms. Warner, you’d better watch your language. When have I ever slandered your daughter?”

She cast an indifferent glance at Fiona Vaughn, who looked mournful and frail, gently caressing her belly.

”Sister, do you really have to be so harsh... Mom’s just upset about my condition, afraid I might lose the baby if I get too emotional.”

Miss Cecilia heard this and immediately let out a mocking laugh.

Her gaze lingered with meaning over Fiona’s clothes and makeup.

”Fiona Vaughn, have you ever truly cared about your child? You’re nearly four months pregnant, winter’s freezing, yet you’re wearing tight dresses, slathering on makeup and those glaring red lips, and still tottering in high heels...”

”Are you really at risk of losing your baby due to agitation, or is it all these things squeezing you too hard?”

Fiona’s lips stiffened instantly.

She forced an awkward smile, unable to come up with a response for the moment.

”Sister... all my cosmetics are pregnancy-safe.”

Even about her wardrobe, Tyson Law’s mother, Mabel Keaton, kept making insinuations every other day...

But Fiona cared obsessively about her appearance—she’d only just barely managed a comeback. If she were caught in the entertainment circle with some unflattering photos, Fiona would feel all her efforts had been wasted.

Florence Warner agreed as she held Fiona’s arm.

”Fiona, just ignore that shameless little bitch Miss Cecilia—she loves to dress like a frumpy old lady, doesn’t hold a candle to your elegance.”

She glared haughtily at Miss Cecilia.

”A hen that can’t lay eggs, always cursing disasters for Fiona... Miss Cecilia, I’ve never seen a woman this vicious!”

Miss Cecilia chuckled indifferently. She brushed past Fiona and Florence as if nothing, then nodded coolly to Wyatt Law.

”Wyatt, let’s go.”

Arguing with this mother-daughter duo at the courthouse doorway was simply a waste of breath—if it was just a matter of venting, she’d never have bothered to walk into this courthouse.

...

Soon after, the official trial began.

Up in court, the famous lawyer hired by Fiona fired off accusations against Miss Cecilia’s reputation.

”Judge, according to the plaintiff, the heinous murder case was orchestrated entirely by my client, but Miss Fiona Vaughn never had any connection with Reginald Trent, let alone colluding to frame the plaintiff.”

”Moreover, it was found on the plaintiff’s phone years ago that she was messaging Reginald Trent—she herself invited him to her dressing room, which suggests the two had an affair, and Miss Cecilia killed in a fit of passion during a quarrel.”

...

Miss Cecilia’s expression remained icy and calm as she swept her gaze across the vast courtroom, not spotting the judge who had convicted her three years ago.

Ironically, she had cared so deeply about that verdict, and yet, standing here now, switching from defendant to plaintiff, her heart was as still as dead water, far less angry than she imagined.

She shot a cool glance at her own lawyer, signaling him to present the rebuttal evidence.

”Defense counsel, please mind your words—deductions must be based on evidence, not imagination. Our plaintiff turned eighteen just then, a new university freshman, and had known Reginald Trent barely a dozen days, only met him once at the opening ceremony. How could deep feelings develop?”

”As for alleged text messages exchanged at their engagement banquet, it could easily have been fabricated by someone else—Miss Cecilia’s phone was left at the reception desk while she was in the makeup room adjusting her look, waiting for the groom.”

”And besides, inviting a lover for a secret rendezvous at such a time would be completely illogical—it would be far too likely to be discovered.”

The journalists in the gallery all nodded; yes, by common sense, the groom would arrive any moment. If Miss Cecilia had really sent texts inviting the son of Stellerton University’s former board chair, Young Master Trent, wouldn’t that be begging to be caught red-handed?

Florence Warner saw the crowd starting to buy into Miss Cecilia’s argument and furiously shouted out.

”Miss Cecilia, why are your lawyers’ speculations treated as truth while Fiona’s lawyer’s reasoning is dismissed?”

Miss Cecilia watched her explode and pulled her lips into an amused smile.

”Who said it’s just speculation? What if I bring witnesses and evidence?”

”You—”

Florence Warner was so angry her throat seemed to puff smoke. She wanted to keep spewing words, but the judge high on the bench sternly intervened.

”Quiet! The gallery has no right to speak! Anyone disrupting the courtroom will be prosecuted!”

Florence Warner’s lips moved as if chewing on glass, clearly unwilling to give in, and Fiona quickly signaled her, so Florence reluctantly ceased the tantrum.

Seeing the silent exchange across the courtroom, Miss Cecilia gave a cold smile and signaled her lawyer.

Soon, the lawyer respectfully submitted Miss Cecilia’s evidence.

”Your Honor, I request to call a key witness—three years ago, Winston Zane was chief of security at Phoenix Terrace Hotel and responsible for liquor checks at the wedding banquet.”

”He received over a million yuan in bribery from Miss Fiona Vaughn, plus tens of thousands in jewelry!”

”You liar!”

Fiona had anticipated Miss Cecilia would find Winston Zane, but now with the matter right before them and countless journalists filming, she could absolutely never admit it!

”I’ve never even heard of that name, let alone bribed him with millions!”

”Yes or no, the bank records will prove it!”

Miss Cecilia’s expression was icy—soon, the judge announced that Winston Zane would take the stand.

Winston Zane quickly detailed how he was bribed years ago.

No matter how prepared Fiona was, she was furious enough to want to throw bricks at him, desperately trying to seem calm, but sweat already soaked her palms beneath her sleeves.

The judge’s expression was solemn.

”Winston Zane, are you certain the woman in sunglasses who bribed you was the defendant?”

”I... I’m honestly not so sure... I didn’t see her face clearly, but her build and facial contours looked a lot like Miss Vaughn.”

Winston’s uncertainty undeniably gave Fiona a sliver of hope.

But before Fiona could celebrate, Miss Cecilia’s lawyer’s next words landed with conviction.

”It’s difficult to verify the person’s appearance, but the bank account that transferred funds to Winston Zane belonged to Fiona Vaughn’s former assistant, Rosie Sullivan. Defendant, how do you explain that?”

Instantly, everyone’s gaze locked onto Fiona Vaughn...