Chapter 612: The Hand That Struck, Chop It Off

Chapter 612: Chapter 612: The Hand That Struck, Chop It Off

Hearing this, Annabelle Linton was moved beyond words.

He took her hand and led her forward.

’Prosecute... until I’m in jail?’

A roar filled Tina Chapman’s ears, and her body went limp as she sank helplessly into her chair.

Arthur Ainsworth scrambled after them, pleading anxiously, "Young Master Grant, please be the bigger person and let us off the hook this once. I’ll be sure to keep a close watch on her in the future."

When Leona Grant didn’t respond, Arthur Ainsworth turned his pleading gaze to Annabelle Linton. "Annabelle, what are your thoughts?"

Annabelle Linton pressed her lips together, saying nothing.

As Annabelle Linton remained silent, Arthur Ainsworth turned back to Leona Grant and asked nervously, "Young Master Grant, is there really no way to handle this privately?"

Leona Grant watched him for a moment before letting out a laugh. "Fine. We’ll consider it a favor to you, Mr. Ainsworth."

Arthur Ainsworth breathed a sigh of relief and immediately gave his assurance. "Then what would you have me do? I’ll do whatever it takes!"

Leona Grant scoffed again, his glacial eyes sweeping over them. An overwhelming cold seemed to instantly blanket the world. He chuckled softly. "Three conditions. Take your pick, Mr. Ainsworth."

Arthur Ainsworth had a terrible premonition...

He steeled himself to look, forcing a dry laugh as he followed Leona’s lead. "Go on, please... tell me..."

"First, and this is the simple one: give up the Ainsworth Group. After what she did to my wife, you have to let us blow off some steam, right?"

Arthur Ainsworth frantically waved his hands. "No, no, no, Young Master Grant, please show some mercy! The Ainsworth Group is my life’s work! The next one... what’s the next condition? I’ll agree to it, I promise!"

"Oh." The syllable that answered him was a flat, toneless sound from deep in the man’s throat, stirring not a single ripple of emotion.

Leona Grant raised a single eyebrow, his tone nonchalant. "That hand your wife uses to hit people—chop it off. It’s an eyesore."

His tone was utterly devoid of inflection as he stared impassively at the man, as if he were discussing something as mundane as the weather or whether he’d eaten yet.

It was a line that might have sounded like a joke, but coming from Leona Grant’s mouth, it was impossible to take as one.

Because he had the power to turn any joke into reality!

Tina Chapman tumbled out of her chair. She stared at her own hand in terror, then snatched it behind her back, shaking her head wildly. "No! I don’t want to!"

Arthur Ainsworth’s eyes widened in terror. "Young Master Grant, you can’t possibly... How is a person supposed to live without a hand? My wife... she was just acting on a rash impulse! Please, give us a way out..."

’A rash impulse...’

Hearing this, Leona Grant couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

’If that were really all it was, the hitting and cursing are already over. Would I really have the spare time to be here talking to them?’

’He had looked into this Tina Chapman. Along with that Yvonne Miller—Annabelle Linton’s stepmother—she had targeted Annabelle plenty of times.’

’Bully my wife? They’ll have to get through me first!’

’Oh, that’s right. There’s also Vivian Yates’s mother. Her turn is coming.’

Leona Grant sneered at the thought.

’Vivian Yates, you’re really something. All three of these hags are connected to you!’

’But no rush. We’ll settle all the scores, new and old, in one final reckoning.’

"Fine." Leona Grant continued where he’d left off. "There’s one last choice."

By now, Arthur Ainsworth had given up hoping for a simple option. But clearly, he couldn’t do either of the first two, could he?

"Young Master Grant, please... tell me..."

Leona Grant glanced at Tina Chapman, the corner of his mouth twisting into a contemptuous smirk as he said flatly, "Divorce her."

Undoubtedly, this was a baffling condition.

Arthur Ainsworth thought he must have misheard. He couldn’t stop himself from asking, "Young Master Grant, what do you mean?"