CHAPTER 4: CHAPTER 4: THE GRANT FAMILY LINE WILL CONTINUE, JUST GO AHEAD AND CUT

The sorrow that welled up in Juliana’s chest was instantly frightened back by Old Mrs. Grant’s words.

She had never even killed a fish, yet they were asking her to do this.

George Grant was anxious, "Mom, this is just a little misunderstanding, it’s not necessary to bring out the knife."

Old Mrs. Grant snorted coldly, "The Grant family mansion under my watch has become a place of disgrace. A brother sleeping with his sister... If such a scandal spreads, where will the century-old reputation of the Grant family be?"

"Grandmother, Aunt is having delusions, that’s not the truth."

Evan Grant spoke up, and Old Mrs. Grant’s anger flared further.

"Then what is the truth? Are you planning to bring her back and force me to accept reality?"

"I never intended to bring her back."

Evan Grant paused, then added, "Besides, she’s never said she wanted to come back."

"Impossible!" Lily Windsor interjected, "Stella in a foreign country, depressed and suicidal, just wants to come home. Evan, don’t be fooled by them into not bringing Stella back, Juliana won’t dare to do anything!"

"If you really care about Stella, you’d say less," Evan Grant said with a gloomy face.

Seeing him try so hard to defend that woman, Juliana’s surging emotions froze inch by inch.

She picked up the knife from the ground.

"Grandma, if I go through with one stab, the Grant family won’t blame me for cutting off the bloodline?"

Old Mrs. Grant gave her grandson a look, "The Grant family lineage won’t be severed; you just go ahead and cut!"

Juliana looked at Evan Grant; for the first time, exposing her frustrations with a knife, her hand trembled.

Evan Grant stared at her for two seconds, then suddenly unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his sturdy chest.

"Come here, dig out my heart, and see if I’m telling the truth."

He was very brave, and Juliana did press the knife against his chest in earnest.

Lily Windsor stood up angrily and scolded, "Juliana, you’re a curse bearer, your parents were right not to want you, you’re a disaster wherever you go. Evan’s wise to divorce you, you’re not even a fraction of my Stella... cough, cough..."

Old Mrs. Grant interrupted her rant with a strike of her cane.

"Shrew, if Evan divorces Juliana, you’ll be the sinner of the Grant family!"

Juliana looked at the knife in her hand and calmed down.

Nonsense won’t solve their problems.

Juliana pushed Evan Grant’s hand away and turned to place the knife on the table.

"To become a murderer for you, it’s not worth it. What I want is..."

The word "divorce" had barely left her lips when Old Mrs. Grant’s words interrupted her.

"If you don’t take action, I’ll take it as you forgave him this time."

Juliana: "..."

Old Mrs. Grant didn’t wait for her to speak and turned to reprimand her grandson.

"Protecting your wife is a man’s responsibility. Don’t let some unworthy people chill the heart of the person beside you."

Evan Grant understood Old Mrs. Grant’s meaning, "I won’t divorce."

Old Mrs. Grant nodded with satisfaction, but Juliana couldn’t hold back anymore.

"You act like the perfect brother and the devoted husband; aren’t you exhausted?"

Evan Grant had been suppressing his temper all night, but looking at her now, the remaining tenderness in his eyes nearly vanished.

"Mrs. Grant, know when to stop."

Stop?

Did he think he was playing hard to get?

Juliana was infuriated.

Just about to speak, Lily Windsor sneered, "You got your way again, putting on a show with the knife, just waiting for a man to console you. It’s a good thing your parents aren’t here, or realizing they gave birth to such a cheap thing would have pissed them off to death."

Cold light flashed in Juliana’s eyes, she picked up the knife she had set down and swung it at Lily Windsor.

The blade grazed past Lily Windsor’s ear until a bunch of hair fell to the floor, and only then did Lily Windsor belatedly reach for the back of her head.

Juliana put down the knife, "You really thought I wouldn’t dare to cut off your tongue?"

Lily Windsor broke down instantly.

"My hair! I just spent over ten thousand on it... husband..."

George Grant was furious too, "Juliana, how could you cut your mother-in-law’s hair, get down and kneel!"

"Kneel for what?" Old Mrs. Grant stepped in front of Juliana, "You knew Juliana was most upset about not being able to find her parents, yet your wife kept poking at her sore spot. She’s been polite not to use the knife on her mouth."

"Mom, you can’t be so biased."

Old Mrs. Grant pointed at his nose and said:

"The things your wife said just now I couldn’t bear to hear; are you deaf?"

"Don’t think that just because I gave your stepdaughter the Grant surname, she can be compared to Juliana. I won’t allow her back; if she must die, it will be outside."

"Remember, anyone who tarnishes the Grant family’s name will be sent to meet the Grant family’s ancestors!"

Hearing this, George Grant felt a chill down his spine.

"Both of you, get to the ancestral hall!"

Old Mrs. Grant was furious, and George Grant dared not defy her, dragginh the unwilling Lily Windsor away.

"Grandma, be careful with your blood pressure," Evan Grant said.

Old Mrs. Grant took a few deep breaths.

"If you two kids are really filial, then hurry up and give me a great-grandchild. With a child, your hearts will be bound together."

Perhaps it was a psychological suggestion, but at the mention of children, Juliana felt a cramp in her lower abdomen.

She and Evan Grant had been trying to conceive for a year without success, which should have been upsetting.

But if this marriage was truly a sham, if she were just a shield for Stella, then not having a child was a blessing.

She instinctively covered her lower abdomen, and Evan Grant, thinking her wound hurt again, hurried to support her.

Juliana shrugged off his hand, saluted Old Mrs. Grant, and walked out alone.

Old Mrs. Grant shook her head.

Once a woman turns from doubt to disbelief, it’s hard to coax her back with just a few words.

"Peter Dawson, go and handle something for me."

...

Every time the topic of divorce came up, Old Mrs. Grant never let her finish the sentence.

Juliana almost reached the garage but suddenly felt uncomfortable sharing a ride with him, so she turned around and nearly collided with Evan Grant.

"Are you going back for something?"

Evan Grant casually embraced her waist.

Juliana pushed him away.

"I’ll call for a car myself."

Evan Grant’s tone lost its warmth, "Still being stubborn with me?"

Juliana was speechless.

"Because I can’t generously support you in protecting your sister, I’m being stubborn?"

Evan’s eyes were like thick ink, "Listen, my caring for Stella is purely out of responsibility, nothing else."

Juliana laughed, "I’d love to hear what kind of responsibility makes you abandon a wife who nearly died in surgery to rush to her side without hesitation?"

A shadow passed in Evan Grant’s eyes, "I’ll tell you what you need to know."

Juliana laughed at his words, a laugh filled with disappointment and melancholy.

"Four years of marriage, and I’m not even worthy of a single truth, is this our marriage. Evan Grant, I’m no saint, I can’t just stand by and watch as you care for another woman without being moved. We..."

The intention to divorce was again interrupted by the butler chasing after them.

"Ma’am, these are some pieces the Old Lady recently purchased from The Jadeite Gallery, but she realized they didn’t suit her, so she wants you to have them."

The butler handed her a Black Sandalwood box.

Juliana took it and opened it.

A jade bracelet with excellent translucency, its design ancient, fitting for the Old Lady but not for her.

Evan Grant saw through the Old Lady’s intention and sighed.

"Grandma is trying to cheer you up in her way, don’t let her efforts go to waste."

Efforts?

Wasn’t the Old Lady reminding her that she needed the Grant family’s monthly check of a million to support her own "maiden family"?

Sure enough, the next second, Peter Dawson said, "Young Mistress, the Old Lady said if you truly dislike this bracelet, feel free to smash it. If it breaks, it breaks, that’s fate, can’t be forced."