Chapter 143 Regretting Not Having Done So in the First Place

Chapter 143 Regretting Not Having Done So in the First Place

A loud shout froze both Jack and Grace in place.

Sophia bit her lip, her eyes brimming with barely suppressed hatred. "The newspaper report wasn't wrong—Eleanor really is the Mitchell family's heiress! Everything written in there is true!"

"I saw it with my own eyes that day, and Ethan was there too! Ethan broke up with me because he found out Eleanor's real identity and decided I wasn't good enough for him anymore!"

As her words fell, the dining room plunged into dead silence.

The color drained from Grace's face in an instant.

Jack collapsed into his chair as if all the strength had been sucked out of him.

After a long moment, he muttered to himself, "It's over... everything's over!"

"How could she be part of the Mitchell family? Why did this have to happen... why did it have to be like this..."

He had raised Eleanor for over a decade.

And during those years, he knew better than anyone how he'd treated his adopted daughter.

If Eleanor had been just some ordinary kid from a regular family, none of this would matter.

What could a powerless girl with no connections do to him?

But she just had to be the Mitchell family's daughter!

The more Jack thought about it, the more terrified he became. Cold sweat trickled down his face.

Meanwhile, after her initial shock, Grace felt a surge of intense rage.

She slammed her hand on the table and erupted, "That bitch Eleanor! If she's part of the Mitchell family, why didn't she say so earlier? If she'd spoken up sooner, would we have kicked her out? She did this on purpose—deliberately made fools of us!"

"And another thing—after she went back to the Mitchell family, why didn't she help us, the Brown family? We kept her alive all those years, didn't we? She doesn't know the meaning of gratitude! Ungrateful wretch should just drop dead!"

Listening to his wife's twisted version of events, Jack couldn't take it anymore. He shot her a furious glare.

"Enough!" he roared. "How you treated her all these years—you really don't know? And now you want to play the caring adoptive mother?"

"Let me tell you something—the way the Brown family is now, who knows how much of it is her doing! Haven't you noticed? Ever since we kicked her out, our business has gone downhill every single day. TwinView Capital pulled out, key employees quit, longtime clients cut ties with us... you think all of that is just coincidence?"

Grace found herself speechless, choking on her husband's words.

But she still couldn't accept it.

Why?

Why did Eleanor get to live so well while the Brown family fell apart?

"Then you tell me what we should do!" Grace shrieked. "You're a grown man, and all you do is mope around the house! Come up with a solution!"

Jack's expression darkened further. "What solution do you want? You want me to go beg Eleanor for forgiveness? You think she'll forgive us?"

"How will we know if we don't try!" Grace shot back stubbornly. "We raised her all those years—she can't just stand by and watch us die, can she?"

"Dream on!"

Jack cut her off with a cold laugh. "The way you treated her back then—if she doesn't come after us for revenge, that's mercy enough. And you expect her to help you?"

The argument escalated from mutual accusations to dredging up old grievances.

One blamed the other for being too harsh to Eleanor; the other countered that neither of them had been any better.

At the height of their fight, Grace grabbed a bowl from the table and hurled it at Jack.

Jack couldn't dodge in time. The rim of the bowl struck his forehead, opening a gash. Blood streamed down along his brow bone.

He clutched his forehead, staring at Grace in disbelief. "You... you crazy woman! You actually attacked me?"

Then he raised his hand and delivered a hard slap across Grace's face.

The entire dining room descended into chaos.

Watching this scene unfold, Sophia felt an indescribable irritation and disgust welling up inside her.

She didn't step in to break up the fight. Instead, she stood up and headed upstairs without looking back.

Once in her room, she dialed Wendy's number.

A cold voice answered. "What is it?"

Sophia asked urgently, "Ms. Wendy Mitchell, when exactly are you planning to make your move against Eleanor? Why haven't you done anything yet?"

"Do you realize the Mitchell family has already started publicly acknowledging her identity? Soon everyone will know who she is! Once she becomes the legitimate Ms. Mitchell, you—as the adopted daughter—will have to share half of everything you have with her!"

"Ms. Wendy Mitchell, can you really accept that?"

Silence stretched across the line for several seconds.

Then Wendy's voice turned suddenly icy. "Sophia, I suggest you remember your place."

"Even if we're working together, there's still a hierarchy. And you are clearly my subordinate. If you dare speak to me in that tone again, don't blame me for what happens next."

Sophia froze at her words.

But Wendy didn't give her time to respond, continuing coldly, "As for Eleanor, I'm already working on dealing with her. You don't need to worry about it, and you're in no position to judge how I handle things."

"Shut up and wait for my signal."

With that, the call was abruptly disconnected.

Crestview Estates.

Wendy threw her phone onto the bed, breathing hard with rage.

That idiot Sophia actually dared to speak to her like that!

Who did she think she was?

The angrier Wendy got, the more worked up she became. She grabbed a nearby pillow and pummeled it viciously, teeth clenched as she cursed, "Eleanor, just die! Die! Die!"

Just then, someone knocked on her door.

Startled, Wendy quickly composed herself, tossing the pillow back onto the bed.

She took a deep breath before calling out coldly, "Come in."

The door cracked open, and Kenna slipped inside.

Seeing it was Kenna, Wendy's tense nerves relaxed slightly.

She leaned against the headboard, irritation still evident in her voice. "How are the preparations coming along?"

Kenna approached the bed and lowered her voice. "Ms. Mitchell, everything's ready. We can move whenever you give the word."

A cold smile crept across Wendy's face.

"Good."

Suddenly, a commotion of lively chatter drifted up from downstairs.

Wendy frowned. "What's going on down there?"

Kenna looked uncomfortable, hesitating as if unsure whether to speak.

Seeing her like this only increased Wendy's irritation.

She snapped, "I told you to speak! What's happening?"

Kenna finally bit her lip and answered reluctantly, "It's... it's Mrs. Mitchell preparing for Eleanor's family introduction dinner. They've invited Sovereign City's most famous gown designer to the house to custom-make her dress."

Wendy went rigid.

After a long pause, she asked in a hoarse voice, "Just for her?"