?Chapter 1621:

Corrine let the silence linger for a moment before speaking again. “I will take care of the rest. You two…” She paused and nced at Jolene. “Could you help take my uncle to the hospital?”

Earlier, Jolene had suggested it herself, but Waldo had refused stubbornly. Now, with Corrine asking, Jolene hesitated, ncing at him before giving a small nod.

They turned to leave, but not without their usual bickering.

“I am perfectly capable of walking. No need for your assistance.”

“If Corrine hadn’t asked, believe me, I wouldn’t be here holding your sorry self.”

Corrine watched them disappear into the distance, their childish banter fading behind them. She sighed softly and then turned in Jonathan’s direction.

That was when she took a closer look at the man on his knees. The scene was so bizarre that her mind initially refused to ept it. The man was picking up shards of ss from the floor… and pushing them into his mouth.

For a moment, she thought her mind was ying tricks. Her eyes squeezed shut. But when she opened them again, the sight remained unchanged.

He was still there, hunched over, blood streaming from his lips as jagged ss tore through his flesh. Red streaks trickled down his chin, staining the floor like spilled wine.

Her brows furrowed. A chill crept up her spine.

Jonathan did not say a word. He merely turned slightly and gave Bleacher a nce.fn7b49 The source of th?s content is find[f]ovel/fn7b49

Without hesitation, Bleacher moved in with two other men. Together, they grabbed the man by the arms and dragged him away like a sack of garbage. Just before they disappeared, a flicker of light caught the man’s face. Corrine caught a clear glimpse of it.

Swollen. Unrecognizable. The man’s features had ballooned grotesquely, his face puffed up like a bruised pig’s head.

No. That was not Waldo’s doing. She knew it without question—this was Jonathan’s work.

Her eyes met his, and her voice was steady. “Thank you, Jonathan.”

Upon hearing those words, Jonathan shifted his gaze toward Corrine. A faint smirk tugged at his lips. “The Ford family heiress thanking me? That is a rare honor I did not expect.”

Corrine’s expression remainedposed, her posture unshaken by his sarcasm. “Tonight’s incident was my uncle’s doing,” she replied evenly, her voice calm and precise. “I am prepared to cover the damages caused at the scene.”

Leaning forward, Jonathan reached for the fruit tter, drove the knife into a ripe apple, and let it rest there. His gaze darkened slightly, the gleam in his eyes sharp and unreadable. “Are you concerned that I mighte after Waldoter?” After all, Waldo had caused a disturbance on his turf—an affront Jonathan could easily turn into a deration of war. And if he chose to escte, Waldo would have no defense.

Corrine’s lips curved faintly, her voice cool and deliberate. “You and I both understand that if you hold my uncle ountable, it would be no different from dering a feud with the Ford family. I trust you are wise enough to see the bigger picture.”

She moved toward Nate and seated herself beside him with practiced grace, every movement measured, her thoughts sharpened by calction. “I offerpensation because my uncle’s recklessness disrupted your business. Nothing more.”

.

.

.