novelraw Chapter 432: To the man she loved with all her heart in her youth, it’s like a disaster she can’t see through
Chapter 432: To the man she loved with all her heart in her youth, it’s like a disaster she can’t see through
Delphine looked at the familiar, refined man standing before her, her whole body stiffened, and her expression changed slightly as she spoke, "Attorney Gray?"
For a moment, it felt as if her blood had frozen into ice. During the incident in Vancouver last year, it was this very lawyer who bailed her out and used Isaac Leclair as bait to force her back to the Southern Isles.
"You work for Ignatius Leclair?" Delphine’s hands and feet felt cold. So her return to the Southern Isles had been orchestrated by Ignatius all along? Had she been under his control this entire time? Did he know everything she’d gone through, yet still chose to remain distant, watching from afar for five years?
Her face suddenly turned pale, her body swayed slightly, but she managed to hold herself together and avoided collapsing.
Brock Gray had just flown back from Vancouver with his team, unaware of the recent events in the Southern Isles. When he saw her pale complexion, he hesitated before speaking, "I am part of the Leclair family’s think tank, ranked third. Miss, you should have met Maximilian and Arthur White before; they’re ranked fifth and sixth. As for Arthur White, he used to follow Mr. Leclair closely back in the day. You should have seen him too."
Delphine closed her eyes slightly. Of course, she had seen Arthur White. Back when she and Ignatius were deeply in love, Arthur was his most trusted confidant. She let out a low laugh, tinged with self-mockery. So she had been nothing but a complete fool, played by this man as if she were in the palm of his hand. All these years, she was still so naïve, stubborn even.
"Although this incident is troublesome, rest assured, Miss, you won’t be blamed for it. Can you tell me exactly what happened that night?" Brock asked her.
"That’s unnecessary. I’ll handle this matter myself. I won’t trouble you, Attorney Gray." Delphine rested her hand on the table beside her, her face drained of all color, her demeanor cold as she spoke.
Brock froze mid-action as he reached for his recording device, stunned for a moment. He seemed about to say something, but Delphine had already walked away on her own.
Outside the hospital, journalists crowded the area, making it impossible for her to leave. Not wanting to worry her father inside the hospital room, Delphine wandered, dazed, into the adjacent resting lounge, where she shut the door tightly and collapsed to the floor, struggling to hold back her sobs.
These past years, had she truly been nothing but a joke? That man had plundered her, banished her, controlled her, manipulated her, and ignored her—and yet here she was, vacillating between seeking revenge and wanting to be near him. She cried, her voice low, understanding all too well that women can be fools, especially when it comes to the first man they loved with all their youth and fervor. It’s like a calamity they can’t see through, burdened by pain that refuses to fade.
If Ignatius Leclair truly had feelings for her, how could he stand by so coldly and watch her struggle in darkness for five years? And then deceive her into returning to the Southern Isles?
Her vision dimmed, and she fumbled for her phone to call Leah.
Leah was at her garden villa. Last night, Griffith Squire had called her out, so she had returned home. By noon the next day, she excitedly bought a bunch of snacks favored by children and carried them to the villa. There, she saw the somber man in the wheelchair, alongside Casimir Shaw squatting near the entrance as though defending the doorway. Beside the young boy was a solitary luggage case.
"Mommy." Casimir Shaw was squatting on the ground, counting ants and flowers. The moment he caught sight of Leah, he immediately pouted and sobbed, calling out, "Old Shaw said we can’t live at Mommy’s house."
What? Leah was confused, carrying the heavy snack bags as she approached. Casimir had already succeeded in squeezing out a few tears, pitifully clinging to Leah’s pant leg, twitching as he spoke, "Old Shaw said we’re poor and can’t afford to live in such a garden villa. Boo-hoo-hoo."