CHAPTER 90: CHAPTER 90 THE FIRST DAY AS A DAUGHTER-IN-LAW (3)_1

"Grandma," Henry Horne exclaimed in an injured tone, "I’m your grandson. If you can’t trust me, who can you trust?"

"Henry, Grandma trusts my brother the most," Adele Horne joined in as well. She sat down on the other side of the old lady, affectionately wrapping her arm around the old lady’s, cooing, "Isn’t that right, Grandma?"

The old lady merely smiled. She had no secrets; her eyes were simply sharper than anyone else’s.

Gian Horne and his brothers rarely gathered during the year, so after dinner, they retreated to Gian Horne’s study to share some brotherly bonding.

Mila Anderson and her two sisters-in-law, along with the old lady’s daughter, were tremendously bored. Someone suggested playing cards, and so the women began a game to pass the time.

James Horne sat quietly to the side, silently observing everyone, occasionally offering a faint smile.

"James, you were drunk last night. You still don’t look well. Why don’t you go back to your room and rest?" the old lady said with concern, having noticed him.

"Grandma, I’m fine now."

Now that the attention was on him, James quickly smiled and responded.

Suddenly, his phone rang.

He hurriedly took it out and saw an unfamiliar number. His faint smile disappeared as he answered.

"Brother James, is that you?" came a sweet, gentle voice.

It was actually Orlando Evans’s voice.

James Horne’s face slowly tightened, and his tone became distant and icy as he asked, "Why is it you?"

Why was Orlando Evans calling him? That woman who desperately wanted to climb into his big brother’s bed but couldn’t manage to get his proper attention. In front of everyone, she was quite nice to him, always greeting him. But behind their backs, she looked down on him just like Adele Horne did, disparaging him for being a bastard. She would never verbalize the insult, but she was skilled at doing it with her eyes, which was enough to drive someone insane.

"Brother James, are you free?" Orlando Evans asked, unconcerned with his icy demeanor. Her voice was sickeningly sweet, a type that only Adele Horne could stand; everyone else disliked it.

"I’m not free," James harshly dismissed her with two cold words and cut off the call.

On the other end, Orlando Evans sat in a spacious and rather luxurious living room. It wasn’t her parents’ apartment in the courtyard complex but a villa her uncle had bought in Blue Sky Garden.

Looking at the phone displaying the ended call, her face flushed an angry red and black. She furiously tossed the phone aside. "What’s so great about him, putting on airs like that?" she swore resentfully. "He’s nothing but a bastard, just lucky enough to be a Horne."

"Yo, who’s got my dear sister all riled up?" A sleazy voice came through, and a young man around twenty-one years of age—dressed in a floral-patterned long-sleeve shirt and black trousers, sporting blonde hair, with a handsome face and a height of about 173 centimeters—sat down next to Orlando Evans. As soon as he sat, he pulled her into his embrace and asked with mock concern.

"Othiel Evans, keep your disgusting hands to yourself! I’m your sister!" Orlando Evans forcefully shoved her cousin’s hands away. Her cousin, relying on the family’s wealth, was a young playboy who was always chasing women. Sometimes, he would even make inappropriate advances toward her. In short, he was a total pervert.

"Who could resist when you’re so adorable?" Othiel Evans leered. "If you weren’t my actual cousin, you wouldn’t escape my clutches."

"Keep talking, and I’ll tell Uncle to freeze your bank card. Then we’ll see how you manage to pick up girls," Orlando Evans warned, her beautiful face stern.

"Alright, I surrender," Othiel Evans quickly raised his hands, dropping the sleazy act. He asked seriously, "Sis, who were you just cursing? I heard something about a bastard. Whose bastard? Oh, right, Young Master Horne had his wedding with Miss Julia Bluen yesterday. You’ve been in and out of the Horne Family; do you know why such a grand wedding was made into a private ceremony?"

"It’s a display of doting on his wife," Orlando Evans said, a mix of love and hate in her voice when speaking of the man she adored. As for Julia Bluen, who had married Glades Horne in her sister’s stead, Orlando was jealous to the point of madness. She would have been willing to be his fourth or fifth mistress, but Glades Horne hadn’t even given her that chance, yet Julia Bluen had so easily become his wife! How could she not resent Julia Bluen?

"Doting on his wife?" Othiel Evans didn’t understand.

"I’m heading back," Orlando Evans said, not bothering to explain. She grabbed her phone and started walking out, her mind already scheming for ways to make James agree to meet her.

"Wait a minute." Othiel Evans quickly chased after her and blocked her path, grinning as he asked, "Sis, aren’t you quite close with Miss Horne? When can you hook me up with her?" He had met Adele Horne a few times and had taken a liking to her.

Staring at him, Orlando Evans suddenly let out a sinister laugh, one that could send chills down the spine.

Reaching out, she patted Othiel Evans’s shoulder and said with an ominous laugh, "Good brother, just you wait. Such a day will come." Laughing softly, she walked past him, got into an orange Chevrolet, and left the Evans villa.

「A Crown sedan slowly drove into the Horne Family villa.」

The Crown sedan stopped in the Courtyard’s outdoor parking lot.

The Horne Family had three parking areas. One was outdoors, and everyone preferred to park there when it wasn’t raining. Opposite the outdoor parking was a sheltered area, with large stone pillars supporting a thick roof to protect the luxury cars from the elements. Besides these two lots within the Courtyard, there was also a large garage next to the Main House, which the family members used when they returned home at night and didn’t plan on going out again.

The car door opened, and a tall, slender, middle-aged woman of about fifty-two or fifty-three, dressed in the latest fashions, climbed out. Even though she was in her fifties, she looked much younger due to excellent self-care.

She was Pheobe Rogers, Gian Horne’s mistress and James Horne’s biological mother.