Marrying the Man in the Dark

Chapter 1213 Justice Served Cold

"Mhm," Jude nodded in confirmation.

He yawned lightly. "Handling you is like taking a leisurely stroll."

"The more pressing issue is..."

He sighed heavily. "Biting the hand that feeds you. After profiting from wealth handed down by others, you also deliberately caused harm to their whole family."

"Were I in your position, I wouldn't be trumpeting about the Gray Group's trillion- dollar assets to every nook and cranny of this land."

"Because I understand that this wealth is stained with your dirt."

"It's the reason why I declined to inherit the Gray Group and persuaded my mother to propose returning it to the Lenoir family in your presence."noveldrama

Anthony was stunned.

His typically composed demeanor faltered, replaced by a look of despair.

He staggered back a few steps, widening his eyes at Jude with a mixture of disbelief and incredulity. "You..." his voice began.

"From start to finish, you orchestrated every single detail?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

"That's right," Jude admitted calmly.

Jude's expression softened, a mixture of a half-smile and seriousness. "Kenneth's

hit-and-run accident was also something I had in my plans."

Anthony collapsed to the floor, his world crumbling around him.

He glanced around the room, at the figures before him-his son, Jude, his nephews, Colin and Damien, and Cherise.

They all harbored deep-seated hatred towards him, and there was no one left to support him.

He understood that this marked the end for his son Kenneth.

It wasn't just Kenneth; he and Florence, too... would never reclaim their former prestige in the years ahead.

When the Gray Group's assets and properties were given back to the Lenoirs... he would be left with nothing.

His eyes then settled on Dorothy, lying motionless on the hospital bed.

"Dorothy! I beg you to wake up!"

"The son you gave birth to me, your nephews, they're all plotting against me!"

"They aim to unravel two decades of my blood, sweat, and tears!"

"Dorothy, please, I urge you to open your eyes to this atrocity!"

Feeling utterly powerless, there was nothing else he could do but cry out Dorothy's name in vain.

For years, in moments of Anthony's deepest vulnerability, his instinct was to summon Dorothy.

She, a woman of kind and tender temperament, would unfailingly pardon him, console him, and exert every effort to untangle his troubles.

Yet now, she lay unmoving in her bed, her silence profound.

Like a figure carved in stone.

Anthony's heart weighed heavy with remorse.

Regret for the pain he inflicted upon Dorothy, regret for allowing greed to obscure his better judgment, hurting Dorothy in the process of yearning to make amends for Florence and his illegitimate son.

Anthony had overlooked a critical truth: his son, Jude, was no ordinary man.

"Mr. Anthony," Jude began, his voice laced with disdain, "it's not Dorothy you should be seeking now, but Florence."

As Anthony looked down at Jude, the light on his middle-aged face began to dim, hope slipping away before his eyes.

At last, Jude punched in a number.

Moments later, a team of uniformed officers rapped on the door.

Anthony's gaze turned vacant as they snapped the cuffs around his wrists.

"Mr. Anthony," one officer declared sternly, "we've received reports implicating you

in numerous financial crimes and suspicions of plotting a vehicular incident.

Please cooperate and come with us."

Once a towering presence in Yatesville, now led away in handcuffs by the hospital's law enforcement.

In Yatesville, the headlines erupted in that instant.

Seated in the hospital room, Lennon savored a banana Violet had peeled for him,

a chuckle escaping him as he followed the news.

Finally, he reflected inwardly.

Everything had been worthwhile, he mused, standing by Colin through it all.

"Lenn, why are your injuries taking this long to heal?" Violet inquired, her concern palpable as she pouted playfully. "I don't get why you're taking longer than others when I've seen who recovered from a similar injury within two weeks."

Lennon lifted his hand, brushing a stray strand of hair behind Violet's ear with tender affection. A faint smile graced his lips as he spoke softly, "Haven't you remembered? The knife that struck me before stabbed into my liver."

"I just need extra time to recuperate," he assured her gently.

"You're right... I'm sorry you had to endure that," Violet murmured, nestling shyly into his embrace.

Lennon's gaze wandered into the distance, a hint of concern knitting his brow.