"I said I didn’t kill anyone!"
Christopher Weaver roared, "Get out of here! You married soone nad Hunter, and now you’re arrogant enough to hit your sister! Will you hit next ti?"
Isabella Weaver suppressed her thoughts about Leon Hunter, picked up a chair, raising it in the air: "Hand over all my mother’s belongings!"
"You you you!"
Christopher Weaver’s eyes nearly bulged out!
"Are you going to smash ?!"
"Hand them over!"
"Weren’t they already given to Harry Hunter? There’s nothing left!"
With a loud crash, the chair Isabella held smashed into the coffee table in front of Christopher Weaver.
The glass tabletop, along with the teapot and teacups placed atop it, all shattered.
"Will you hand them over or not?"
"I already said there’s nothing left!"
"Bang! Bang! Bang!" Another series of crashes, as Isabella smashed the living room’s LCD TV, refrigerator, and vase ornants to pieces.
"If you don’t say anything else, I won’t just smash the house, I’ll smash you. You might end up in the hospital for half a year!"
Christopher Weaver’s vision darkened repeatedly!
Isabella Weaver must have taken sothing today, acting crazed after returning ho!
The infuriating part was that all the bodyguards in the house were taken away by Alexander Parker, claiming Isabella Weaver had gone missing, and they were needed for search efforts!
Missing, my foot!
Christopher Weaver cursed inwardly, ultimately fearing that Isabella Weaver might actually lose her mind and smash him too, so he took out Shiely Morrison’s belongings.
"Here’s the letter she wrote for you, and her diary! That’s all I have; the rest are gone, so take them and get lost!"
Inside the old leather envelope were the yellowing envelope and the torn journal.
Isabella’s fingers trembled as she picked up the items, glanced at them, then turned and walked out.
She thought she would confront the furious Ella Weaver and Rose Parker, but unexpectedly, waiting for her outside the door was the cold-faced Harry Hunter.
Rose and her daughter shrank in a corner of the Garden Estate, shivering, daring to be angry but not express it.
Harry reached out to her, his tone as calm as ever: "Madam, are you hurt?"
Isabella placed her bandaged right hand into his palm, her body gradually warming: "No."
"That’s good."
Harry gently held her hand and gave her a hug.
He cast a cold glance at Christopher Weaver in the living room, then left with Isabella Weaver getting into the car.
Outside the villa door, Alexander Parker stood there. He watched Isabella Weaver sitting in Harry Hunter’s car driving out, glanced at him just once and left, a hint of regret flashed in his dark pupils.
A hand suddenly rested on his shoulder, and a head drew close: "Hey, Peter... what’s your na again?"
"Forget it, Peter. Let give you a piece of advice; don’t compete with my boss for a woman. Look, you can’t fight Connor, your resistance is also diocre, and when you two fight and get hurt, I have to treat you, making very stressed these days!"
"Johan Niles, get your filthy hand off of !"
"My hands aren’t dirty; I disinfect them every day! If you don’t believe , take a whiff, they still have the sll of disinfectant!"
Johan Niles put his hand under Alexander Parker’s nose, about to gloat, when suddenly his face changed: "Oh crap... let go!"
Connor saw Johan Niles’s hand was bleeding, delivered a chop to the back of Alexander Parker’s neck, and knocked him out.
Johan Niles finally pulled his hand free, cursing loudly: "This bastard, born under the year of the dog? Too ungrateful! I fixed his broken ribs for him! Next ti I save him, I’ll be the dog!"
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