Shirley Thorne endured the pain in her foot and scrambled over to the car window, completely baffled by the scene before her.
Ethan Grant knelt ramrod straight, his torso as erect as a statue. His expression was impassive, as if he weren't kneeling on the ground but sitting in his office, waiting for an employee's report.
"You scoundrel, why did you get married again? Weren't three times enough? Do you have any idea what people were saying to me today?" The lavishly dressed woman panted, tears streaming down her face as if she had suffered a terrible injustice. "They said I'd raised such a 'good son'—marrying one woman after another, knowing full well he's a wife-jinx! If you actually cause one of them to die, how could I ever show my face in public?"
At this point in her tirade, the woman broke down into sobs, recounting who had said what and how they'd mocked her today. But with Ethan Grant now on his fourth marriage, she had no grounds to argue back.
Ethan Grant remained kneeling on the ground, perfectly still, his brow not even twitching.
"You will get a divorce! Now!" Having cried her fill, the woman delivered her ultimatum.
Ethan Grant lifted his gaze to the woman looking down on him, his expression impatient and his features cold. Just as he was about to speak, a graceful figure in red suddenly appeared in front of him.
"We can't get a divorce!"
Shirley Thorne, ignoring the pain in her foot, scrambled out of the limousine and placed herself between Ethan Grant and the woman.
'A divorce is out of the question. Absolutely not within the next five years. I have no intention of returning that hundred million.'
She said earnestly, "Ma'am, I married Mr. Grant of my own free will. Please don't misunderstand!"
Ethan Grant was momentarily stunned. He hadn't expected Shirley Thorne to suddenly intervene, especially with her injured foot.
"A misunderstanding?" The woman sized Shirley Thorne up with contempt, her gaze growing disdainful. "Girls these days will do anything to marry into a rich family. What, aren't you afraid my son will jinx you to death?"
Huh???
'Is that something a person's own mother would say?'
'It'd be one thing if it were strangers, but for Ethan Grant's own mother to believe he's a wife-jinx? And to say it so cruelly?'
"My fate is a strong one," Shirley Thorne answered, suppressing her anger while internally ranting.
'With a mother like her, the fact that Ethan Grant didn't turn out completely twisted just goes to show how good the Grant family's feng shui must be.'
Ethan Grant watched the slender figure standing before him, his expression dark and unreadable.
In his memory, Shirley Thorne was a classic clinging vine—no opinions of her own, no backbone, timid and cowardly, with absolutely nothing remarkable about her.
Before they signed the contract, that had been his unwavering image of her. But for some reason, the Shirley Thorne of today was bold, vivacious, and sharp-tongued, completely unlike the timid woman she'd been before the wedding.
He glanced down and saw her red, swollen ankle, and felt something stir inside him.
'Her personality has changed, but she's still just as foolish. Doesn't it hurt, standing so straight?'
"Hmph!" The woman's contempt was unabated. Acting as if Shirley Thorne wasn't even there, she commanded, "Get out of the way!"
She wanted to continue scolding her son.
A rebellious streak Shirley Thorne didn't know she possessed took over, and her tone was uncharacteristically firm. "I'm sorry, Ma'am, but my husband and I are going to rest now. Please go home."
Susan Langley's eyes widened in disbelief, and she was overcome with fury. "I'll say it again: get out of the way!"
Shirley Thorne shook her head and lifted her chin slightly, her posture radiating an intent to defy her to the very end. Susan Langley had been pampered her whole life. Born into a powerful family, she considered herself superior to all others. Being contradicted by this nobody, she reacted without a second thought, raising her hand to slap her.
Just as the slap was about to land on Shirley Thorne's stunned face, Ethan Grant shot up from behind her, catching Susan Langley's hand just in time. "That's enough. Go home."
Before Susan Langley could react, Ethan Grant ordered a nearby bodyguard, "Get the car."
"Ethan Grant, how dare you!" Susan Langley was beside herself with rage. She started punching and kicking the bodyguard who was getting the car ready. "Fine! Just fine! You think you're all grown up now, do you? You won't listen to me anymore! I'm telling you, I won't leave you a single cent! You just wait!"
Ethan Grant watched this farce unfold with a blank expression. Only after Susan Langley had left did he turn to Shirley Thorne and say, "If this happens again, don't interfere."
"How could I do that?" Shirley Thorne rattled off her twisted logic. "We're supposed to be a loving couple now. My husband was on his knees. How could I, as his wife, just stand by and do nothing?"
For some reason, her words struck him as funny. A rare, warm expression crossed his face as he explained, "I kneel so that she'll leave sooner."
Huh?
Shirley Thorne was visibly confused. She clearly didn't get it.
Ethan Grant had to explain again. "My misery makes her happy. When she's happy, she stops making a scene."
Oh, so that was it. This time, Shirley Thorne understood.
Even though she understood, her heart ached for him for some reason. 'Even as the wealthiest man in the country, he can't be very happy, stuck with a mother that unreasonable.'
"Don't just stand there. Let's go inside." Ethan Grant sighed, wondering what was wrong with himself today. He'd never talked this much.
When the richest man in the country told her to go inside, of course Shirley Thorne complied. But the moment she lifted her foot, the movement jarred her ankle. A piercing pain shot through it, and she gasped, sucking in a sharp breath.
Ethan Grant heard her sharp gasp from behind him. He glanced at the male bodyguards surrounding them, sighed, then turned and swept her into his arms.