The Divorced Heiress’s Revenge



Chapter 2419

Justin descended the stairs with long, rapid strides. Each of his steps felt more urgent than the last. Trailing behind him was Ian, running to keep up.

As they entered the living room, Justin caught sight of Grant seated alone in his wheelchair, with an upright and composed posture. Their gazes locked, tension crackling like a drawn blade.

"Going out so late, Justin? Where are you heading?" Grant's lips curled into a faint smile, his tone light yet probing.

Ian clenched his fists, barely suppressing the urge to kick over the wheelchair and wipe the smug expression off Grant's face.

"You? Awake at this hour?" Justin's voice was cold, his thin lips parting briefly. "Seems your half-disabled body has quite the stamina."

"You look anxious, Justin. Is there something urgent? Do you need my help?" Grant ignored the sarcasm, his smile unwavering.

"It's none of your concern." With that, Justin strode past him like a cold gust of wind.

"Justin," Grant called out, his tone calm yet sharp. "Many things and people have nothing to do with you. Why insist on wading into the muddy waters and inviting trouble for yourself?"

Justin's steps faltered briefly, a chill creeping into his chest.

This so-called elder brother of his never wasted words. Behind his gentle facade was a sophisticated mind capable of causing chaos without lifting a finger.

To the outside world, Grant appeared to be a saint. But beneath that polished exterior lurked a cesspool of corruption, gnawed away by deceit and cruelty.

Justin's sharp eyes narrowed. He turned and approached his brother.

Bang!

Without warning, Justin kicked the base of Grant's wheelchair.

Grant's body jolted violently. He barely managed to steady himself after clutching the armrest, but the incident left him disheveled and humiliated.noveldrama

Ian's heart leaped with glee. 'Serves him right!'

"I don't discriminate against the disabled," Justin said coldly, leaning closer, his tall frame looming over Grant. "But I despise those who fake being crippled to garner sympathy. If you're truly paralyzed, I wish you a swift recovery. If you're pretending, then I hope you're stuck in that chair for life."

With those words, Justin turned and left, vanishing with Ian through the front door in mere moments.

Grant sat motionless for a long time. Finally, he rose from the wheelchair, his eyes blazing red. With a roar, he kicked the chair over, sending it crashing to the ground.

At that moment, his phone vibrated. Breathing heavily, he answered, his voice dripping venom.

"Is it done?"

On the other end, Clarice hesitated briefly before replying respectfully, "We've got her. Do you want her alive or...?"

"Fool! What use is a corpse?" Grant shut his bloodshot eyes, trying to suppress the fury stirred by Justin. His voice was hoarse but commanding. "Keep her alive."

At the back of the mountain, the blizzard howled through the darkness.

Yvonne lay sprawled in the snow, her left shoulder pierced by a bullet. Despite her fierce resistance, she was outnumbered and overpowered.

Her body was battered and bleeding. The once-pristine snow beneath her turned crimson with her blood-a grotesque yet hauntingly beautiful sight.

The black-clad assailants parted to make way as Clarice approached leisurely, wrapped in a luxurious white fur coat. Careful not to soil her expensive boots, she stopped short of Yvonne.

"I knew it. A rat like you would try something underhanded sooner or later," Clarice sneered, her eyes glinting with disdain. "Christopher met his miserable end because of his foolish mercy. When your precious Pivotage fell, he should've put a bullet in your head and rid himself of future trouble."

Yvonne's pale face nearly blended with the snow. Trembling fingers clawed at the icy ground, the searing cold acted as her only anchor to consciousness.

"That man... So pathetic and pitiful. He spent his life pining for Bella, never to have her. So he settled for you, a counterfeit, to console himself," Clarice said, kicking a stone at Yvonne's motionless body. Her gaze brimmed with contempt.

"I'd love nothing more than to send you to join him. A quick death, though... That's too good for you," Clarice added, her smile venomous.

"Then... Do it already... Stop wasting breath!" Yvonne screamed hoarsely; her breath labored as she screamed with what strength she had left.

"Oh, no. You want a quick death? I'll make sure you don't get it," Clarice hissed, crouching low, her eyes gleaming dangerously. "Blame yourself for siding with Bella. That bitch is the person I despise most in this world!"

"Who are you really?" Yvonne forced her heavy eyelids open, her breath forming thick clouds in the freezing air.

Clarice ignored the question, her tone icy as she gave an order.

"Search her."

One of the men stepped forward, roughly stripping Yvonne's blood-soaked clothing to ensure nothing was hidden.

Clarice watched with satisfaction as Yvonne lay defenseless, helpless. A laugh escaped her lips, a sense of long-awaited reprieve spreading through her chest.

Still, Clarice could not help but think. 'If only Yvonne still had Bella's face, this would be even more satisfying!'