With these thoughts, Anton Wallace quickly touched his neck, confirming his head was still attached and he was still alive. But his heart had already turned cold.
His aunt was domineering, and so was his older cousin. Being caught between them was the worst.
"Go, see where there’s the most dust, and throw him out there!" Hansen Ruiz ordered without even glancing at him, his voice dripping with nace.
Anton’s presence here ant that the old dowager of his family was once again scheming. Hansen wouldn’t show any rcy to her pawns, not even if they were cousins.
"Cousin Hansen... Don’t drag ! Cousin Hansen is just joking with , right?" Anton struggled desperately, not wanting to be dragged out by the two n, but he couldn’t overpower them both. In a mont, they had lifted him up and were carrying him outside.
The two n in gray threw Anton outside, and his clothes were instantly covered in dust. They even closed the villa’s gate, not allowing him back in. When he managed to stand up, he saw the gate was shut. Those two n had already gone back inside to report. This left him, the young master of the Wallace Family, to climb over the fence to get back in.
Watching him climb back over the fence, the two n in gray considered throwing him out again.
"Cousin Hansen, I’ll talk!" Anton hurriedly cried out, conceding.
Hansen’s treatnt was actually ant to force him to confess his intentions. Otherwise, next ti, they would stuff him into a garbage can. Thanks to their cousinly relationship, Hansen wouldn’t actually kill him, but Hansen had countless ways to tornt soone. Anton had a touch of OCD, and Hansen knew this well. If Hansen really stuffed him into a garbage can, he’d probably wash himself for three days and three nights and still not feel clean.
What he feared most was Hansen dragging him to the countryside, finding so farr’s outhouse, and tossing him in. That would be the death of him! Just thinking about it made his skin crawl.
Only then did Hansen wave his hand, and the two n halted their preparations to throw Anton out again.
Anton hurried over to sit beside Hansen, putting on an ingratiating smile. "Cousin Hansen, you’re becoming more and more like my grandfather in his pri! No, you’re even more formidable because you can handle my overbearing aunt..."
"Get to the point!" Hansen shot him a sideways glare, his smile not reaching his eyes. This cousin of his had a tongue as sweet as honey; no wonder he was always surrounded by won. Won could never resist sweet talk.
"Aunt asked to pursue Rachel Bailey!"
"Throw him into the outdoor garbage disposal unit!" The smile on Hansen’s face hadn’t even faded when his voice turned icy.
"No, no, no, Cousin Hansen! I’ve told you the truth, please don’t torture anymore. I haven’t gone after her, have I? Even if you gave the courage of the heavens, I wouldn’t dare try to steal Cousin Hansen’s woman. My aunt forced into this! Cousin Hansen, you know how overbearing your own mother is. She wishes she could control the entire Ruiz and Wallace families. And you know our Wallace Family currently depends on your Ruiz Family to survive. If Aunt stops caring about us, how can I keep my art gallery running peacefully? My paintings might not sell, not even one a year," Anton desperately clung to Hansen’s arm, hastily explaining his predicant.
Besides, he, Anton Wallace, really couldn’t stomach soone of Rachel Bailey’s caliber. Although he was nice to all won, deep down, he preferred beauties. He’d even made a secret vow to marry the most beautiful woman in the world!
But he wouldn’t dare say *that* out loud, or Cousin Hansen would surely wring his neck.
Hansen shook off his hand and pulled out his phone to call Rachel Bailey. It was already close to midnight.
Rachel Bailey, thinking it was an ergency, answered quickly. A barrage of concerned words shot out like a machine gun, and the sound of them made Hansen’s expression visibly soften. Anton watched, his eyes nearly popping out of his head.
"Darling, do you know Anton Wallace?" Hansen asked with utmost tenderness. Sitting beside him, Anton shivered, goosebumps scattering all over the sofa.
"I don’t know him. Who is that?" Rachel Bailey asked, puzzled.
"If you don’t know him, then it’s nothing. Go to sleep. Good night," Hansen said softly. Rachel Bailey not knowing Anton Wallace proved that Anton really hadn’t started pursuing her yet. Hansen could finally relax. This cousin of his was a smooth talker; many won had been captivated by his words.
After hanging up, Hansen turned his head to look at Anton beside him. "Seeing as you were honest, I’ll spare your life this ti. Go back and tell that old empress dowager aunt of yours: if she dares to interfere with and Rachel again, don’t bla for turning on her and destroying everything she cares about!"
"Cousin Hansen, I finally understand why Aunt can’t do anything about you. It’s because you’re ruthless enough!" Anton said, flattering him while sighing inwardly. Everything his aunt cared about, wasn’t it also what belonged to his cousin? His cousin was willing to destroy it all; one had to admit he was truly ruthless.
Hansen shot him a sidelong glance, then stood up. As he walked upstairs, he said, "Leave tomorrow!"
"Got it. But where do I stay tonight?"
Anton actually couldn’t wait to be driven back to A City. He never wanted to break up Hansen and Rachel Bailey in the first place. Hansen was thirty-five; it had taken him so long to find a woman who moved his heart. Even if that woman was a bit ordinary, who cared how ordinary she was? If she could move Hansen, she was extraordinary.
"There are so many guest rooms. Pick whichever one you like," Hansen’s lazy voice drifted down from the stairs.
Anton touched his lips. In that case, he wouldn’t be polite. He’d definitely pick the largest, cleanest room and have a comfortable night’s sleep. Tomorrow, he could be sent back.
Anyway, his cousin was the one sending him back, so Aunt couldn’t bla him. He wouldn’t have to offend Cousin Hansen, and he wouldn’t be blad by Aunt. Perfect!
「The Horne Family.」
The night was deep, and all was quiet.
The surroundings were utterly silent; only the streetlights still guarded the cold night.
Glades Horne stood alone on the balcony, smoking a cigar. He rarely smoked. It was only recently, due to encountering too many troubleso matters, that he had thought of smoking to relieve stress.
He didn’t dare smoke in the room, afraid that Julia Bluen would inhale the secondhand smoke.
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