The Returned Heiress Who Never Fit In

820 Guess Who Hates You Now

When Victor finally stepped out, Dale’s expression darkened to the point of near black. The look Victor gave him–it wasn’t just cold; it was contemptuous. What kind of look was that supposed to be? Was that the look a future son–in–law should give?

Trevor, clutching his stomach, forced himself to straighten and moved behind Dale. “Sir.”

Dale met Victor’s gaze–those eyes brimming with murderous intent–and his voice dropped to a grim chill. “Mr. Victor, what’s the meaning of this?”

His tone was razor sharp.

“The meaning?” Victor’s lips curved faintly, the mockery in his eyes unmistakable. “Mr. Dale, perhaps you should tell me what your meaning is. Is this how you come to visit someone?”

“So Mr. Victor thinks my attitude is the problem?”

Dale’s aura turned glacial.

He had come to question Victor, but somehow it was Victor who was now questioning him. The audacity left him seething.

Victor gave him a sidelong glance, pulled out a cigarette, and lit it with a flick of his lighter. He took two slow drags, the smoke curling between them like a living thing. He didn’t speak–but his silence carried weight, the kind that pressed down on the air itself.

Dale inhaled deeply. “Who was behind the strike against the Ashen Pact?”

Lately, Victor, Derrick, and Abraham had all been tearing into the Ashen Pact with terrifying precision.

Of the three, Derrick and Marie had made the first move. Derrick… and Marie–do they represent the Dawson family?

And Victor had always been Abraham’s man.

In this storm of chaos, Dale was desperate to draw a clear line, to see who was truly pulling the strings. He needed to know whether it was Victor acting on his own, or Abraham using him as a

weapon.

thin plume

I recall, the Ashen Pact and Mr. Abraham have no personal

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said no grudge was thin and uncertain;

dared challenge Abraham openly,

to hide anything. His answer came like a

have a grudge or not, I

Dale froze.

hitched; his chest

“You?”

single word fell heavy with disbelief–and anger.

his own, sure–but he’d always

into it too, bending them to his will in this reckless

entire body tensed, his voice

Victor’s tone was cutting.

what about you and Tess?”

here he was, destroying

that

a cold,

I’ll spare the

word dripped with scorn. His tone, his smile–it was all pure

to Dale, it was like salt

in a harsh breath. “What grudge do

“None.”

stared at

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said flatly.