Chapter 422: Chapter 419: Humiliating Her to Her Face
Quentin Grant hummed in acknowledgment. "It’s good that you’re self-aware."
Nicholas Ainsworth’s smile froze on his lips, but he still extended a hand in an inviting gesture. "Big Brother, after you."
Quentin Grant strode ahead without a second thought. Secretary Lynch followed close behind, making sure to glance back at Nicholas Ainsworth.
Nicholas Ainsworth followed closely, feeling incredibly uncomfortable. It wasn’t just because of what Quentin Grant had said, but also because of the man’s innate air of nobility. ’It’s something I can never hope to match,’ he thought.
They walked into the venue and took their seats. Quentin Grant toyed with a pen, his expression indifferent and aloof, as if he had nothing on his mind.
Nicholas Ainsworth turned to look at him from time to time. Seeing his calm and composed demeanor, he couldn’t help but anticipate the look on Quentin Grant’s face when he lost the bid. ’It will definitely be a spectacular sight.’
"Boss, your brother-in-law keeps looking at you."
Quentin Grant looked down at the documents in his hand and replied lazily, "Let him look."
Secretary Lynch nodded and glanced at Nicholas Ainsworth. "Boss, if he loses the bid, do you think he’ll take his anger out on your sister?"
"Whatever. She’s not a child anymore. No one can protect her forever. She has to protect herself."
「A short while later, the public bidding began.」
...
Jean Grant had made a point of going into the kitchen to prepare lunch with her own hands, waiting for Nicholas Ainsworth to return.
She could just imagine his reaction. ’He’d probably be so excited he’d pick me up and spin me around a few times.’
At the thought, Jean Grant couldn’t help but laugh out loud. The matter of the abortion a few days ago seemed to have blown over.
But, it seemed, she was the only one who thought so.
Mr. Ainsworth knew about her abortion. Although he restrained himself from losing his temper, he had barely been seen at home for the past few days. Sharon Ainsworth had also been away for several days straight.
She checked the time. It was almost noon, but there was no sound of a car returning outside. She couldn’t help but feel anxious, as he was usually home by eleven-thirty.
’Could he have gone out drinking and celebrating with people from the company?’
With that thought, Jean Grant took out her phone and dialed Nicholas Ainsworth’s number, but it went unanswered.
She waited another half hour, but when he still hadn’t returned, she had no choice but to drive to Ainsworth Group Enterprises herself.
She walked up to the front desk on the first floor. "Is your president in?"
"Yes, he is."
Jean Grant nodded and stepped into the elevator, still wondering to herself, ’Could he be so swamped with work that he’s going crazy?’
’Otherwise, how could he not even have time to answer his phone?’
The elevator doors opened. She stepped out and walked straight toward his office.
The secretaries weren’t there. It looked like they had gone to lunch.
She pushed open the door to Nicholas Ainsworth’s office. "Nicholas..."
The name had barely left her lips when her smile froze.
Standing there, she could clearly see a woman’s body crouched under the desk. As the movements grew more intense, it was obvious at a glance what was happening. He just sat there, motionless, showing no reaction at all to her arrival.
Jean Grant slowly walked further inside and stood to the right of the desk, getting a very clear look at the woman crouched by his legs.
"You... How could you..." Jean Grant never imagined her second marriage would so quickly repeat the mistakes of the first.
Nicholas Ainsworth said nothing. It was as if he wanted her to watch.
"Nicholas Ainsworth, I’m talking to you!"
"Get on the desk," he said, but not to her.
The woman by his legs stood up, a triumphant smile on her face.
She pulled down her pants and willingly bent over the desk.
He indifferently penetrated her body. Jean Grant stood to the side, dizzy and reeling.
’Cheating on me so brazenly right in front of my face... Is he already tired of me?’
’Love... it really is unreliable.’
The rage in Jean Grant’s heart surged like a roaring river.
The fire blazing in her eyes was unstoppable. She lunged forward and grabbed the woman’s hair in a death grip.
A scream rang out. Jean Grant grabbed the woman’s arm with her other hand and forcefully dragged her away, forcing Nicholas Ainsworth to pull out.
"Let go of me!"
Jean Grant threw her to the ground, straddled her, and began slapping her face wildly.
SMACK! A crisp sound, and her own face received the same treatment.
Her body was yanked up and thrown as if she were a piece of trash. Jean Grant fell to the ground as well.
She looked up. Nicholas Ainsworth was staring at her. "You bitch!"
Those two words were like a sharp dagger stabbing into her heart.
"Nicholas Ainsworth! Is this how you treat me?! And after I went to my brother’s company to get the bid information for you! You..."
He pulled her up, grabbing the front of her clothes and hoisting her into the air. His eyes were cold and sinister. "Are you sure what you saw was real? Jean Grant, today you not only made me lose the bid, but you also made me lose face! Don’t think I don’t know that the baby you aborted a few days ago was yours and Marlon Marshall’s. And don’t think I don’t know what happened between you two dogs in that hotel room during the banquet! Jean Grant, don’t think you covered your tracks perfectly, and don’t think that just because he’s dead, no one knows! He’s dead, but I’m still alive, and you’re damn well going to know what this feels like!"
Jean Grant’s heart turned to ice, and her face went deathly pale. She didn’t know how he found out, but she wouldn’t admit it.
"You have a real gift for slander, Nicholas Ainsworth. After doing this yourself, you still have the nerve to blame me? What is this about? Are you looking for an excuse to divorce me?"
"Denying it won’t change the facts, Jean Grant. Do you think if I wanted to divorce you, I’d go to all this trouble? I simply wouldn’t have married you in the first place."
He released his grip, and Jean Grant gasped for breath.
At that moment, she didn’t know what else to say.
She turned around. "I see now. We can’t live together anymore. Let’s get a divorce."
"Divorce?" Nicholas Ainsworth glanced coldly at the woman on the floor. "Get out! And if you want to live, you’ll take what you heard today to your grave."
The woman nodded, scrambled to her feet, and fled out the door.
Then, he slowly approached her. "Say that again. I dare you."
It was the first time Jean Grant had seen his face look so stormy. It made her feel as if his very presence brought the apocalypse.
His aura sent an inexplicable chill down her spine.
"We’ve only been married a few days, and you’re already doing this in your office? Heh. Am I supposed to just let this go instead of divorcing you? Nicholas Ainsworth, I won’t spend my whole life swallowing my pride. Even though I’ve been divorced once, it doesn’t mean just anyone who wants to can marry me."
Nicholas Ainsworth looked at her, then grabbed her by the head. "Jean Grant, you’re not someone just anyone can marry, and I’m not someone just anyone can marry either. Remember this: I will not divorce you. You may have no shame, but I still have my pride. Otherwise, I would have humiliated you back at the hotel on our wedding day."
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