Chapter 146: Chapter 144: He Really Wants to Slap This Idiot to Death (3)
Ethan Ellsworth reluctantly forced himself to drink all the soup, leaving only a piece of bull penis untouched in the bowl.
"Now that’s my good boy." Mrs. Ellsworth beamed and dumped the piece of bull penis into the bowl. She picked up the lunch box and stood up. "Chloe, you two better not use any birth control. Hurry up and conceive my grandchild so you can have the wedding at the same time. A double blessing—how wonderful!"
She pulled open the door and left. Chloe Marshall stood there holding the bowl, dumbfounded.
She turned her head to look at Ethan Ellsworth. "Boss Ellsworth—your mother—what—what did she say?"
Ethan Ellsworth pointed at the thing in the bowl. "Throw it in the trash!"
Only then did Chloe Marshall look closely. "Boss Ellsworth, what is this? It looks like a dried-out turd."
Ethan Ellsworth nearly threw up on the spot. His face was a mask of disgust as he roared, "I told you to do it, so get moving! Say one more word and I’ll deal with you myself!"
Chloe Marshall giggled. "Boss Ellsworth, I remember now! This looks like a male dog’s penis!"
Ethan Ellsworth promptly threw up. He felt a desperate urge to slap this idiot to death.
"Hurry up and throw it out!"
Seeing that he was truly angry, Chloe Marshall took the bowl and chopsticks to the break room to wash them.
When she came back out, Ethan Ellsworth was sitting in his chair, his expression as foul as could be.
Chloe Marshall walked over and tried to console him. "Boss Ellsworth, if I’d known what you were drinking, I would’ve drunk it for you. You couldn’t tell from the top! Who knew there was a piece of turd-like stuff at the bottom of the soup."
"Chloe Marshall!"
"Hm? Huh? What is it, Boss Ellsworth? If there’s something on your mind, just say it."
"Are you trying to anger me to death?" Ethan Ellsworth stood up. "Go empty the trash can."
Chloe Marshall nodded. "Okay."
He opened the window to get some fresh air. Remembering the scene from a moment ago, his stomach churned with acid.
"Boss Ellsworth, what effects did that soup have?"
Ethan Ellsworth turned to look at her. "Do you suffer from a yin or kidney deficiency?"
Chloe Marshall thought for a moment. "I don’t think so."
"It’s for strengthening the kidneys. It’s fine. After drinking it, your endurance will be much higher." Ethan Ellsworth sat back down in his chair.
Chloe Marshall had no idea what he meant by "endurance." Looking blank but pretending to understand, she said, "Your mom is so good to you, even making you restorative soup. And I got to benefit from it, too."
Ethan Ellsworth laughed. "She’s just gone crazy wanting a grandchild. Did you think she made that for you? My mom made it for her grandchild."
Chloe Marshall’s face turned beet red. "Grandchild? Us?"
"Of course she means us. But did you know your face is redder than a monkey’s butt right now?"
Chloe Marshall muttered, "Boss Ellsworth, can’t you say something nice for a change?"
Ethan Ellsworth shot back, "Compared to what you said just now, my words are a million times nicer!"
Chloe Marshall could only retreat. "Boss Ellsworth, I’m going back to work."
Ethan Ellsworth waved his hand. "Go on, go on."
The moment the door closed, Ethan Ellsworth rubbed his temples in weary frustration. ’Oh, Mother, for heaven’s sake. Can you please stop all this nonsense!’
But once it was quiet, his playful expression faded, revealing what was underneath.
’Her wedding is set, so she’ll probably get married soon, right?’
’This way, she’s truly gotten her wish.’
’Then why does it feel like countless insects are gnawing away at my heart, an unbearable torment?’
He opened a drawer. Inside lay a photo frame holding a picture of them together when she was ten and he was thirteen.
She wore her hair in two little braids, her smile pure and flawless. He stood there, trying to look cool. She was holding his arm, her head resting on his shoulder. That smile... after he rejected her, she had never smiled at him like that again.
He leaned back in his chair, picked up his phone, hesitated, and then put it back down.
Finally, he closed the drawer.
When Nora Ainsworth woke up, it was already eight o’clock.
She sat up, washed up, and went downstairs to find Quentin Grant coming out of the kitchen, holding a pot of congee.
"You’re up?"
Nora Ainsworth sat down and looked at the breakfast on the table. "Quentin, did you make this?"
"I don’t have to go to the office today, and I saw you were still asleep. I wanted to let you taste your husband’s cooking."
Nora Ainsworth blushed and picked up an egg to peel it. "Today isn’t the weekend. Why don’t you have to go to the office?"
Quentin Grant ladled a bowl of congee for her, his expression placid. "Jean is marrying Marlon Marshall."
Nora Ainsworth was taken aback. "So soon? Aren’t they waiting until after graduation?"
"I don’t know what’s gotten into her, but she’s dead set on marrying Marlon Marshall. My mom was so angry yesterday she nearly fainted. Jean said they’re already together, so they have to get married. My mom is afraid it’ll be even more humiliating if she starts showing, so she decided they’ll get married on the eighth of this month. Apparently, they’re going to take their wedding photos today. The plan was for them to live with Marlon’s mom in a small two-bedroom apartment, but my mother wouldn’t allow it. So she bought Jean a villa here in our neighborhood and is buying furniture for it now."
Nora Ainsworth suddenly lost her appetite. "I don’t know why, but I’ve always felt that Jean and Marlon Marshall aren’t a good match."
Quentin Grant mused, "Whether they’re a good match or not, it was her own choice."
After a moment, he added in a low voice, "This has probably already hit the news. Ethan Ellsworth has likely seen it."
"It’s already the third of the month. Isn’t that really soon?"
Quentin Grant was about to reply when he looked up and saw his mother standing ghost-like at the living room entrance.
"Mom."
Nora Ainsworth quickly stood up. "Mrs. Grant, please have a seat. I’ll pour you some tea."
Mrs. Grant waved her hand. "No need. I’m not thirsty."
Nora Ainsworth nodded awkwardly. Mrs. Grant sat down a short distance from Nora, eyeing their breakfast. "Why are you only eating now?"
Quentin Grant explained, "Didn’t you call me around six? I figured since I don’t have to go into the office today, I’d sleep in. Mom, has everyone been notified?"
Mrs. Grant spoke languidly, "They have. I came by for two reasons. One, to see how the furniture is being arranged in the new house. Two, Quentin... Catherine has suffered so much in prison. She’s lost so much weight, and you haven’t visited her even once. I’ve already made the arrangements. She’s getting out tonight. I’m going to have her get plastic surgery on her face, and she’ll change her name and become my goddaughter until her parents come back."
When she finished, she shot a cold glance at Nora Ainsworth, a look that clearly said: If it weren’t for you, she never would have ended up like this.
Nora Ainsworth knew exactly what the look meant, but she said nothing. ’Right now, no matter what I say, Mrs. Grant won’t believe me,’ she thought. ’So it’s better to say nothing at all.’
Quentin Grant sipped his congee unhurriedly. "Mom, since you’ve already made the decision, why are you asking me? Just handle it yourself."
Mrs. Grant nodded. "I’m just giving you a heads-up. When Catherine comes here, you can’t stop her from coming in."
Quentin Grant’s patience ran out. "Mom, you getting her released has already pushed my limits. And now you want her to come and go from my place as she pleases? Absolutely not. I won’t allow her to set one foot through my door. This is not up for discussion. Mom, Nora and I have to go out soon. You should head back now."
