The soup was still a bit warm, soaking through the luxurious silk long dress in an instant.
"Ah!"
Irene Spencer screamed, clumsily standing up in a fluster. The soup dripped off her dress and spilled all over the floor. She was wearing slippers, and as her foot slipped, she lost her balance.
The bowl in her hand flew out, soup splattered everywhere, followed by a crashing sound as it broke into pieces, the spoon snapping in two.
Anabel Wilton was startled by her. She had originally grabbed some tissues to help wipe it off, but seeing her fall, she rushed over to help her up.
"Damn it!" Irene Spencer got up, holding her knee that had painfully hit the coffee table. She sat on the sofa, raising her face to look at Vera Wave on the TV, her eyes full of malice. "It's just a featherless Phoenix, what's so special about it?"
Wiping the soup off her dress with a tissue, Anabel Wilton turned to clean up the floor. Hearing Irene Spencer's words, she turned her face in confusion.
