Taking Back What My Sister Stole novel Chapter 120

And as luck would have it, Larissa was wearing the same color dress and had her hair styled the same way.

Juniper crossed her arms and started with a sarcastic tone: “Some people think that by imitating Larissa, they can win Mr. Carlton’s favor, don’t they?”

Larissa called out softly, “Priscilla.”

As if realizing something, she added in a gentle voice, “If you don’t like me calling you that, I can call you sister–in–law instead.”

Every word was laced with both flaunting and provocation.

Priscilla didn’t bother to be polite to Larissa. “Don’t disgust me.”

She went straight to find a seat and sat down.

Juniper glared fiercely at Priscilla, then turned to comfort Larissa: “You’re Wes’s sister now, don’t be upset. Some people can’t compare to you and might be thrown out at any time.”

She said this through gritted teeth.

Everyone knew she liked Wesley, and that the Carlton family wanted her to be Wesley’s wife, but Wesley simply refused to divorce.

After all, Priscilla was just a woman he married on a whim.

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Chapter 120

It must be that Priscilla had used some lowly tricks to captivate him.

Priscilla didn’t care about their business. She was here only to fulfill her duty as Mrs. Carlton.

Soon, more people arrived one after another.

Wesley came in last, looking a bit pale, his head lowered as he spoke to someone beside him.

Larissa stood up and called out to him cheerfully, “Wes!”

Wesley reached out to pat her hair, a smile appearing on his face.

Anyone could see how much he doted on this sister.

Someone joked, “Makes me want to find a little sister to spoil,

too.”

Larissa clung to Wesley’s arm and stuck out her tongue at that person, looking sweet and innocent. “You won’t find a sister as cute as me.”

“So jealous.”

“Wes, your wife is here,” someone in the crowd reminded.

The laughter and chatter stopped at once.

Wesley looked over at Priscilla.

She sat quietly in a corner, completely unfazed by the others‘ teasing.

“Priscilla.” He walked over quickly. “When did you get here?”

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Priscilla pressed her lips together and replied coolly, “Ten minutes ago.”

Wesley wanted to explain the jokes, but as the words reached his lips, he realized that anything he said would be pointless.

So he simply sat beside her and took her slightly cold hand.

Priscilla lowered her eyes, actually feeling a bit disgusted.

After all, that hand had just been stroking Larissa’s hair.

But since she was Mrs. Carlton now, she had to maintain her composure.

After a while, the private room door was pushed open.

A tall man stood at the doorway, the orange light outlining his cold, chiseled face.

When Priscilla saw that face, she almost jumped to her feet, losing her composure as she murmured the man’s name.

“Luciano Wilkinson.”

Her tone carried a trace of sorrow.

Wesley’s heart skipped a beat, and his hand clenched tightly.

He held his wife’s hand, feeling her fingertips trembling slightly.

He stood up.

Standing beside his wife, his voice was low. “When did you get back?”

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Luciano looked a bit tired and found a seat. “I just got off the plane not long ago.”

Wesley nodded, almost forcibly pulling his wife to sit down again.

He noticed her reddened eyes, his pupils contracting sharply as countless thoughts raced through his mind.

He and Luciano could only be considered acquaintances; later, Luciano went abroad.

Went abroad…

Wesley suddenly realized that Luciano had also been abroad for three years.

He couldn’t help but tighten his grip, his whole body growing

tense.

Halfway through the gathering, Luciano took a call, said a few words to the host, then stood up and drank a glass of wine. “Something came up at home, I have to leave. Enjoy yourselves, everyone.”

He left quickly.

Priscilla lowered her eyes and said hurriedly to Wesley, “I’m going to the restroom.”

Without waiting for his reply, she had already walked away quickly.

Wesley looked at his hand, still frozen in a grasping gesture, feeling a deep emptiness inside.

Outside, Priscilla caught up with Luciano.

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“Luciano.” Priscilla could barely control her emotions, her voice choked as she spoke.

Luciano nodded gently, responding politely, “Ms. Wilburn.”

Priscilla’s breath caught, her eyes brimming with tears. “You called me Ms. Wilburn?”

She shook her head in disbelief. “How could you call me Ms. Wilburn?”

Luciano glanced at the time; he truly had something urgent to attend to.

“I’ll contact you when I have time.”

Just then, the elevator arrived, and he stepped in immediately.

Priscilla instinctively wanted to chase after him, but someone gripped her shoulder tightly, holding her back.

Wesley, restraining his emotions, veins bulging on his forehead, turned Priscilla to face him.

He said in a low voice, “Priscilla… let’s go back.”

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