Chapter 8
Henry’s mother Grace took a deep breath and turned to me.
Her tone remained stern: “Gabriella, even if this video is real, you still shouldn’t have hit anyone!”
I stared into her eyes and said word by word: “If it were your husband sleeping with another woman, what would you do?”
“Would you be willing to sit there and accept it? Or, as you say, talk it out and then let go?”
Grace was struck speechless by my question, her face pale.
Seeing her silence, Henry said harshly: “That’s no excuse for violence! Hitting people is wrong!”
I snorted coldly.
“When you all charged in here just now, weren’t you also carrying golf clubs ready to fight?”
“What, only the Grant family is allowed to be arrogant, but others can’t fight back?”
Henry’s cousin flew into a rage, pointing at my nose and cursing: “Who do you think you are?! You’re using the Grant family’s money, yet you dare to be so arrogant!”
I slapped her hand away and said coldly: “I use money I earned myself.”
“You all know very well who has kept this company afloat these past few years.”
“If it weren’t for me, this company would have been eliminated by the market long ago!”
Several of them started arguing, saying I was talking nonsense.
I directly took out my phone and sent out the news bulletin I had prepared long ago.
A few minutes later, Ethan’s phone suddenly vibrated frantically, with over a dozen unread messages popping up on the screen.
He opened them one by one, his face instantly turning deathly pale.
Long-term clients who had cooperated for years were all sending contract termination notices.
“This, this is impossible…”
He muttered to himself, his fingers almost crushing the phone screen.
Henry’s cousin snatched the phone from his hands and immediately turned pale.
The room fell silent.
Grace’s legs gave out and she collapsed onto the sofa, her nails digging deep into her palms.
She finally realized that the company’s success over the years wasn’t due to the Grant family’s skills, but my influence.
“Gabriella…”
Ethan’s voice was hoarse. He staggered forward, his knees buckling as he collapsed on the ground in front of me.
“I was wrong! Gabriella! Please, for the sake of our past relationship… don’t let them terminate the contracts!”
“Uncle begs you!”
I looked coldly at him with his forehead pressed to the ground, as if watching an absurd play.
All these years, for the Grant family, I had been using my grandfather’s connections to bring long-term, stable clients to the company.
But what was the result?
I was surrounded by ungrateful people.
Henry, who hadn’t seen the messages yet, rushed over to pull Ethan’s arm.
“Dad! What are you doing?”
“She hit Lily and me, and you’re still begging her?!”
Ethan roared and slapped Henry hard across the face.
“Shut up!”
“Do you know what you’ve done?”
“Because of you, over a dozen long-term clients have all canceled their partnerships!”
“If the news gets out tomorrow, the company is finished!”
He used all his strength in that slap.
Henry staggered backward, crashed
into
the
blood dripped
from the corner of his mouth.
One of his teeth fell to the floor with a clatter.
Henry covered his face and curled up
in
the corner, staring at his father in disbelief.
Lily sensed the situation was turning against her and struggled to crawl toward the door.
But Ethan came to his senses, suddenly raised his golf club, and smashed it hard on her back.
“This is all your fault, you filthy woman!”
Lucia Morh is a passionate storyteller who brings emotions to life through her words. When she’s not writing, she finds peace nurturing her garden.