Remarried Wife: Mr. Ex, We Will Never Reconcile!-Chapter 115: Ian Kane, You’re the One Who’s Truly Trapped

Chapter 115: Chapter 115: Ian Kane, You’re the One Who’s Truly Trapped

Rosalind Morgan berated with harsh disappointment, but her "good son" Noah Grant, not only remained unmoved but instead leisurely lit a cigarette in front of her.

The smoke rose and blurred his deep features, silently dissipating her anger and reprimands into nothingness.

Noah Grant took a deep puff, exhaling smoke rings slowly through the haze that created a distance between them, his tone indifferent:

"Ms. Morgan, have you finished?"

Rosalind Morgan’s well-maintained face turned red in an instant, her chest heaving violently, her fingers clutching the silver scissors turning pale from exertion.

Noah Grant flicked the ash, his steady voice carrying an undeniable weight:

"Outsiders fear the Grant Family, Mr. Grant, that’s their business. All I know is that I, Noah Grant, have built my standing over the years based on the ’Wall Street Gold Medal Finance Lawyer’ title."

"To deal with Ian Kane, I use my own resources, my own methods, completely unrelated to the Grant Family!"

His sharp gaze pierced through the smoke as he stared straight at Rosalind:

"Regarding the photos, I guarantee it will not involve you in the slightest."

He paused, the cigarette in his fingers flickering, reflecting in those bottomless black eyes.

He extinguished the cigarette butt, sparks splattering on the bluestone slab, his voice coated with ice:

"Ms. Morgan, listen closely—"

"Vera Sheridan, I am determined to marry in this lifetime!"

"Her past, because of your interference, I missed; but her future, I, Noah Grant, will protect! If you dare to use the Grant Family name to pressure her or cause her trouble again..."

He stepped forward half a step, an invisible sense of oppression instantly enveloping the entire courtyard, speaking each word deliberately:

"I can change my name and surname, making the ’Second Master Grant’ identity disappear and publicly sever ties with you."

"I mean what I say."

Having said that, he turned away without a trace of reluctance.

The leather shoes fiercely crushed the cigarette butt, still sparking on the ground, the sound of footsteps on the bluestone slab, each echo heavier, colder, more resolute than when he arrived, straight into the light outside the door.

Rosalind Morgan froze in place, watching helplessly as his determined and resolute silhouette disappeared around the corner of the porch, the blood on her face quickly drained, even her lips turned ashen.

"Ka-thunk!" Her well-maintained hand could no longer hold, and the silver scissors dropped directly next to the dwarf pine bonsai, the piercing sound thoroughly ripped apart the false silence of the courtyard.

For the sake of Vera Sheridan, he was even willing to sever ties with the family!

What he said was definitely not an empty threat.

These past seven years, he would rather fight underground boxing matches, earning blood-stained hard cash, and never bowed his head to them!

This moment of resolution was even more intense than back then!

—— Seven years ago, Noah Grant confessed to Vera Sheridan, mistakenly thinking he was rejected by her, yet still refused to give up. But at the critical moment of Mr. Grant’s election campaign, the Grant Family feared Vera’s mother’s criminal record, forcibly made him let go.

Returning to his car, Noah Grant had just settled when his phone rang—it was Caleb Lewis.

He pressed to answer.

"Attorney Grant, Ian Kane pulled a real tough move, cutting off his wrist!" The assistant Caleb Lewis’s voice carried a hint of tremor, his speed rapid.

"He just issued an urgent statement on behalf of the Kane Group, actively revealing that there indeed existed stock price manipulation during a certain past period, directly pinning all responsibility on Hugo Kane personally, claiming ’unauthorized illegal operation, group oversight failure.’ At the same time, he promised to compensate all shareholders who suffered losses during the incident period in full at three times the legal limit."

Hugo Kane—Ian Kane’s cousin, absolute loyal confidant.

Throwing him out as a scapegoat was akin to cutting off an arm, but Ian Kane executed it cleanly, without any hesitation.

Noah Grant’s eyelid barely perceptibly narrowed, a cold, sharp light instantly flashing in the depths of his eyes. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝙚𝔀𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝒐𝒎

Ian Kane’s move successfully transformed the "stock manipulation evidence chain" he held, once a blade directed at the heart of Ian’s interest group, into an exposed and officially recorded "old case clue," greatly weakening its threat.

Noah Grant’s icy sharp light in his eyes did not fade, his voice cold and deep, "How’s the evidence of Ian Kane bribing the doctors?"

Caleb Lewis’s voice came through clearly: "Several key doctor accounts have had large irregular deposits within the past six months."

He paused for half a second, his tone serious, "But the source of funds is still under investigation, the other side is very clean."

Ian Kane has always been cautious, certainly wouldn’t use his own account.

Noah Grant slightly squinted his eyelid, "Continue investigating."

...

Ian Kane had just finished the news conference that shook the finance circle and got into the Maybach.

The expensive suit jacket was casually tossed onto the opposite seat.

He leaned heavily against the backrest, a heavy exhaustion emanating from his entire being.

Jasper Crowe had already been waiting in the car, seeing him come in, handed over a cigarette, and lit one for himself as well.

"Cutting off your wrist," Jasper Crowe took a drag, his voice low, "Brutal enough! Quick, precise, absolute! Mr. Grant’s side has stabilized, the connections are in place, this mine has been defused by you."

His gaze swept across Ian Kane’s tense jawline, carrying confusion and latent concern.

"Just, Kane," Jasper Crowe’s voice dropped even lower, "The cost...was too great. Billions in real money and Hugo...pretty much ruined him. Was it worth it for a woman?"

"Do you still plan to release that photo?" Finally, Jasper Crowe’s voice carried a hint of disagreement, "Truly insane."

Ian Kane didn’t respond.

Long fingers abruptly tore at the elastic tie, the movement weary and irritable.

The expensive tie instantly loosened, draped around the neck, revealing a protruding Adam’s apple and taut collarbone.

Only then did he take the cigarette, lighting it.

He took a deep drag, the crimson tip flaring bright, illuminating the deep-set eyes and the high arch of his nose’s profile.

Amidst the swirling smoke, the gaunt outline exuded a decadent beauty, yet his gaze was sharp as a knife, extremely aggressive.

"Jasper Crowe," he spoke, his voice low, carrying a calm that crushed everything, "Is there anything in this world that Ian Kane can’t gamble on?"

"Money?" The thin lips moved slightly, smoke escaping, "If the Kane Group falls, I can build another one."

"Trusted aides?" His eyes flashed with almost merciless indifference, "Just pawns. Useful, but can be discarded."

His fingers holding the cigarette lightly tapped his temple, staring through the smoke into the void.

"But Vera..." His Adam’s apple rolled silently, "She’s different."

"She is mine." His tone was calm, yet every word carried weight, "Everything about her... can only be decided by me."

He suddenly leaned back against the chair, closing his eyes. His Adam’s apple rolled fiercely along the tense line of his neck. When he reopened his eyes, there was only resolve:

"She, Vera, cannot do without me."

As he spoke, the news of the air disaster flashed in Ian Kane’s ear, his tone revealing a stubbornness ingrained in his bones.

Jasper Crowe looked at him, a chill running up his spine.

"Kane," Jasper Crowe’s voice was dry, "Stop it. Is it worth fighting Noah Grant to the death for a woman whose heart isn’t here with you... Not worth it. See clearly now..." His voice was bitter, "You are now the trapped prey."

"Her heart isn’t here with you"... Ian Kane felt a sharp sting in his heart.

In an instant, a cold curve curled at the corner of his lips, "Nonsense. She can’t escape my grasp."

He still had that photo.

With that, Ian Kane leaned back against the chair and closed his eyes.

The compartment was deathly silent.

...

Late night, an old alley.

A red brick villa, its third-floor window emitting a dim yellow light.

Upon hearing Vera’s foot could be cured, Maeve Holloway was excited all day, and the two friends celebrated together in the evening.

At this moment, under the light, the remaining joy on Vera and Maeve’s faces had faded.

Recalling Ian Kane deliberately withholding treatment for the foot, Maeve Holloway felt a shiver of fear.

"He... just to control you, even doesn’t allow the foot to be treated." She said angrily, "Before, I thought he was just NPD, but now it seems he has an obsessive-compulsive personality disorder mixed with pathological narcissistic attachment."

"Crazy! He should be subjected to mandatory psychological treatment!" Maeve Holloway grew more indignant as she spoke.

Half a year...

Vera, an outstanding principal ballet dancer, had been crippled for half a year, enduring the despair of never being able to be cured.

Vera’s lips curled into a bitter smile, she didn’t speak, lowered her head to flip through the foot injury records she brought back.

The pages were turned.

Next to the initial report, the pen’s pressure was evident:

"Spare no expense, seek the best solution worldwide. I want her to be as good as new."

Vera’s fingertips paused.

Here Ian Kane was willing to treat her foot...

She continued to flip forward.

On another blank page, the handwriting was cold and hard:

"Delay aggressive treatment, maintain the status quo."

Beside it, there was another line of small script, the pen tip had pierced the paper:

"She belongs only to me. Her condition can only be defined in my eyes."

The light was dim yellow, the room deathly silent.

Vera’s complexion suddenly turned pale.

Initially, Ian Kane was willing to treat her.

Later, he changed his mind.

Maeve Holloway returned with water, looking at her daze, her eyes filled with resentment fixed on a certain point, she touched her arm: "Vera?"

Vera finally came to her senses, lowered her eyes, swept over the page, lips curling into a mocking smile:

"These words—"

"are the evidence that Ian Kane deliberately didn’t let me treat the foot..."