The Divorced Heiress Revenge (Bella Thompson) novel Chapter 2419

Justin descended the stairs with long, rapid strides. Each of his steps felt more urgent than the last. Trailing behind him was Ian, running to keep up.

As they entered the living room, Justin caught sight of Grant seated alone in his wheelchair, with an upright and composed posture. Their gazes locked, tension crackling like a drawn blade.

“Going out so late, Justin? Where are you heading?” Grant’s lips curled into a faint smile, his tone light yet probing.

Ian clenched his fists, barely suppressing the urge to kick over the wheelchair and wipe the smug expression off Grant’s face.

“You? Awake at this hour?” Justin’s voice was cold, his thin lips parting briefly. “Seems your half-disabled body has quite the stamina.”

“You look anxious, Justin. Is there something urgent? Do you need my help?” Grant ignored the sarcasm, his smile unwavering.

“It’s none of your concern.” With that, Justin strode past him like a cold gust of wind.

“Justin,” Grant called out, his tone calm yet sharp. “Many things and people have nothing to do with you. Why insist on wading into the muddy waters and inviting trouble for yourself?”

Justin’s steps faltered briefly, a chill creeping into his chest.

This so-called elder brother of his never wasted words. Behind his gentle facade was a sophisticated mind capable of causing chaos without lifting a finger.

To the outside world, Grant appeared to be a saint. But beneath that polished exterior lurked a cesspool of corruption, gnawed away by deceit and cruelty.

Justin’s sharp eyes narrowed. He turned and approached his brother.

Bang!

Without warning, Justin kicked the base of Grant’s wheelchair.

Grant’s body jolted violently. He barely managed to steady himself after clutching the armrest, but the incident left him disheveled and humiliated.

Ian’s heart leaped with glee. ‘Serves him right!’

“I don’t discriminate against the disabled,” Justin said coldly, leaning closer, his tall frame looming over Grant. “But I despise those who fake being crippled to garner sympathy. If you’re truly paralyzed, I wish you a swift recovery. If you’re pretending, then I hope you’re stuck in that chair for life.”

With those words, Justin turned and left, vanishing with Ian through the front door in mere moments.

Grant sat motionless for a long time. Finally, he rose from the wheelchair, his eyes blazing red. With a roar, he kicked the chair over, sending it crashing to the ground.

At that moment, his phone vibrated. Breathing heavily, he answered, his voice dripping venom.

“I’d love nothing more than to send you to join him. A quick death, though... That’s too good for you,” Clarice added, her smile venomous.

“Then... Do it already... Stop wasting breath!” Yvonne screamed hoarsely; her breath labored as she screamed with what strength she had left.

“Who are you really?” Yvonne forced her heavy eyelids open, her breath forming thick clouds in the freezing air.

Clarice ignored the question, her tone icy as she gave an order.

“Search her.”

One of the men stepped forward, roughly stripping Yvonne’s blood-soaked clothing to ensure nothing was hidden.

Clarice watched with satisfaction as Yvonne lay defenseless, helpless. A laugh escaped her lips, a sense of long-awaited reprieve spreading through her chest.

Still, Clarice could not help but think. ‘If only Yvonne still had Bella’s face, this would be even more satisfying!’