Ben Hunter finished scolding Connor, his cold gaze slowly lifted, fixing on Isabella Weaver: "Isabella."
Isabella Weaver quickly kneeled by Harry Hunter’s side: "Grandfather, it’s my fault."
Ben Hunter’s voice was sowhat aged: "Harry was raised by . In these twenty-six years, he’s only defied the family twice: first was breaking off the engagent with Cherry Lewis, and second was marrying you."
"He’s never been rebellious. The hardships he’s endured are unimaginable to outsiders, and his excellence is unmatched! I never stopped him from marrying you because I hoped that, although he couldn’t choose his birth, at least he could choose a companion, so his life wouldn’t be like a walking corpse."
"However, if your existence endangers his life, then I would also make you disappear from this world!"
"Grandfather!"
Harry Hunter spoke indifferently: "It’s not related to her, you can’t harm her."
Ben Hunter slowly stood up, the old silhouette showing a bit of the sharpness he had in his youth: "Then you better not get into trouble. If it happens again, you’ll never see Isabella Weaver again!"
Harry Hunter still wanted to say sothing, but Isabella Weaver held his hand, silently shaking her head, gesturing for him not to speak further.
Ben Hunter regarded Harry’s life above all else. Even though Leon Hunter had died, his first move was to use thunderous ans to protect his grandson.
Isabella Weaver didn’t want Harry Hunter and his grandfather to have unnecessary disputes because of her.
Ben Hunter noticed Isabella Weaver’s action and felt satisfied with her understanding and sensibility, relieved that he wasn’t marrying a willful and reckless woman.
"The three of you, stand up."
Ben Hunter spoke faintly, "Harry, sit down."
He still felt sorry for his grandson, knowing he was injured, unwilling to let him kneel or even stand.
"Now, let’s handle your father’s affair."
His gaze swept over, and the won kneeling on the floor were all terrified, trembling in fear.
"Isabella, were these people sent by you to your father-in-law?"
"Yes."
Ben Hunter slamd the table: "Ridiculous! What kind of daughter-in-law sends won to her father-in-law?! He died because of these won!"
Isabella Weaver lowered her eyes, her voice steady: "We’ve brought Director Valley; Grandfather, could you let Director Valley first examine the cause of death?"
"I’ve already had the coroner examine it; he died of a sudden heart attack during intercourse! He was killed by these won you sent!"
Isabella Weaver looked up at the six won.
These people were brought by Connor upon her request; all were hostesses from the Royalton Club, not only beautiful but also skilled in dance, perfectly matching Leon Hunter’s tastes.
Because she had so understanding of their backgrounds, Isabella Weaver dared to let them co.
Leon Hunter’s accident shocked her more than anyone, yet she hadn’t lost her mind.
Among the six won, Irene led them, with the most outstanding appearance and figure, and at this mont, she seed relatively calm.
Isabella Weaver walked over, her voice cold: "Irene, describe the process in detail."
"We were only accompanying with singing, dancing, and drinking. We were instructed beforehand to win the boss’s favor, not to wear him out physically. He’s not young anymore, we all know that, there’s no way we’d act recklessly!"
"We didn’t dare let him drink too much. The rule at our club is not to drink the boss to death; we’re the ones drinking! We just played gas, where the loser drinks or takes off a piece of clothing, and we all deliberately lost to make the boss happy!"
"We are really wronged; we truly didn’t kill anyone! I had just coaxed the boss onto the bed, hadn’t even finished undressing, and he lost consciousness. I was scared to death!"
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