The Ex-Wife's Triumph novel Chapter 94

Ethan paused, asking uncertainly, "You want to call my brother?"

Then, as if realizing something, he deliberately declared, "Just so we're clear up front—no crying 'bully' when you lose."

"We'll see about that. The bullies might be the ones crying in the end."

Thurston reached out and clapped a hand on Kingsley's shoulder, joking, "Mr. Sherwood, let's try to win all of Ethan's research funding tonight so he can't be so cocky."

"Get lost!"

Ethan immediately bristled, straightening up from the sofa. "I'm not playing! Touch anything you want, but don't touch my money—that's the lifeblood of my medicine!"

In the end, the three didn't play cards. They drank and chatted until the early hours of the morning.

When Kingsley returned to The Vista Gardens, Paula heard the commotion at the door and came out, draped in a jacket.

Before she even got close, the strong smell of alcohol wafted over. Paula frowned, her voice filled with concern. "Mr. Kingsley, how much did you drink? I'll go make you some hangover soup. You'll feel better after having some."

Kingsley's steps faltered slightly. He gave a low "Hmm" in his throat, then added, "Did they take the things?"

"Yes, they took them."

Paula had just turned to go to the kitchen but stopped and looked back. "Movers came this morning and cleared it out."

Kingsley didn't say anything more. He raised a hand to press against his throbbing temples, his brow showing the exhaustion of intoxication, and walked straight toward the living room sofa.

In Switzerland, the early morning air was still cool.

Lucy was sound asleep. She had stayed up until dawn with Seven—the little one had slept too much during the day and was full of energy at night, tossing and turning until the late hours.

"If you don't save it, your father will collapse along with it!" Irma refused to give up, trying to emotionally blackmail her. "Even if just for your father's sake, give him something to hold onto!"

"You want to save The Lynwood Group? Simple."

Lucy's tone was disdainful, and she deliberately slowed her speech. "Just marry off your precious daughter. I know an elderly tycoon—want me to make an introduction? Once he kicks the bucket, you'll inherit a handsome fortune. It's a great deal."

This remark hit Irma's raw nerve. She could no longer pretend to be kind, and her voice became shrill. "Who do you think you are? You're just a piece of discarded trash that Kingsley got rid of!"

She lowered her voice, adding a vicious threat, "Let me tell you, Kingsley said that as long as you talk to him in person, there will be plenty of compensation! Lucy, you'd better think clearly—otherwise, I don't mind digging up your mother's ashes. If I accidentally scatter them, don't blame me!"

Lucy's fingers tightened around the phone until her knuckles turned white. Her voice was cold enough to freeze water. "Irma, dare to touch them and see what happens. I guarantee you won't even have the chance to regret it."

With that, she hung up without waiting for a response. The morning breeze on the balcony blew past, but it couldn't disperse the chill in her eyes.