Remarried Wife: Mr. Ex, We Will Never Reconcile!-Chapter 126: Forced Divorce

Entrance of the city police station.

Noah Grant’s Cullinan had just come to a stop at the police station entrance when a pack of ravenous reporters swarmed forward, their cameras practically pressed against the car window.

The blinding flashes formed a continuous chain, the dense shutter clicks sounded like a downpour.

"Attorney Grant! Mr. Ian Kane accuses you of doing nothing while he fell off a cliff, and even deliberately causing his fall. Is this true?" A sharp female voice pierced through the noise, carrying an unmistakable tone of accusation.

Immediately, more questions bombarded like artillery:

"Attorney Grant! Rumor has it you interfered in Mr. Kane and Mrs. Kane’s marriage, is that true?"

"Attorney Grant, it’s said that you sought revenge for Miss Sheridan’s divorce from Mr. Kane. Is that right?"

The car windows were tightly shut, blocking out most of the noise, but these malicious questions still clearly penetrated inside, pounding against Vera Sheridan’s eardrums.

She instinctively looked towards Noah Grant beside her.

The man’s demeanor was calm, his deep eyes scanning the frenzied crowd outside through the one-way glass, showing no emotion.

Only when he heard the word "interfered," did his Adam’s apple bob slightly, but no emotion was discernible.

At this moment, he turned his face towards her.

Their eyes met, and he gave her a silent reassurance as he picked up his phone and dialed a number: "We’re at the entrance. A bunch of reporters are blocking the way, deal with them."

As soon as the call ended, several police officers rushed out to forcibly disperse the crowd.

The electric barrier gate opened, and the Cullinan smoothly drove in.

The second-floor elevator doors opened.

Vera Sheridan and Noah Grant had just stepped out when they ran into Owen Sheridan.

Owen looked worn out, with heavy dark circles under his eyes and bloodshot eyes.

Seeing Vera, he rushed forward, scrutinizing her up and down, grabbing her arm, his voice hoarse and tense: "Sis! Are you okay? Did he hurt you?"

"Noah!" After speaking, he nodded a greeting to Noah Grant.

Vera was pained by his grip but even more distressed by his appearance, gently shaking her head: "I’m fine. What about you and Carla Thorne? Are The Thorne Family’s parents giving you a hard time?"

Owen’s eyes flickered slightly, "Sis, Carla and I are doing well, don’t worry."

Vera keenly sensed his guilty conscience, considering how Carla’s parents were always so sycophantic to Ian Kane, it was impossible for them not to make things difficult for Owen...

At this moment, a steady figure walked out from a nearby interrogation room.

It was Jasper Crowe. 𝒻𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝘯𝘰𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮

His gaze swept past Vera, finally fixing on Noah Grant’s face, with a hint of playfulness at the corners of his mouth.

"Barrister Grant." Jasper Crowe approached slowly, "May I have a word?"

Noah Grant nodded to Vera and Owen, then followed him to the smoking area.

Jasper Crowe had been tirelessly working over the removal of Ian Kane, his exhaustion evident between his brows.

He pulled out a pack of "Golden Leaf," extracting one and offering it to Noah Grant.

It’s said that this was the only brand he smoked.

Noah Grant didn’t even lift an eyelid, raising his hand to indifferently brush it away.

Jasper Crowe’s hand paused briefly, retracting the cigarette, lightly tapping the butt in his palm.

"The noble and upright, coming from a family of legal luminaries, Second Master Grant..." he sneered with a hint of sarcasm, "That ’let him die’ from the dashcam, was really loud and clear. Ruthless!"

"No matter how crazy Ian Kane was, he risked his life to protect Vera Sheridan. No matter how much Vera hated, she couldn’t bear to get out of the car. But you..." his tone suddenly deepened, "the moment you came, you put a guillotine to his neck!"

"If I hadn’t pulled him back from death’s door last night, Second Master Grant, your life would be tainted forever! Not even the waters of The Ochre River could wash you clean!"

Noah Grant’s gaze remained unmoved, coldly uttering a few words, "Spare me the roundabout talk."

It was as if Jasper Crowe was merely stating an irrelevant weather forecast.

Jasper Crowe was momentarily at a loss for words by this impervious attitude.

His eyes churned with a lurking coldness, and he ripped off his facade:

"The accusation over Vera Sheridan’s foot injury, a misunderstanding entirely. The evidence chain? Fictional." He stepped closer, his voice low and laden with palpable threat, "If Second Young Master Grant is willing to be lenient... that record will naturally vanish."

This was about exchanging the foot injury case being dropped for Noah Grant’s fatal "let him die"!

Noah Grant stood tall, slightly towering over Jasper Crowe, eyes piercing straight into Jasper’s own.

"Jasper Crowe." His voice was low, carrying an overpowering force, "Truth is not a transaction.

The air instantly thickened, a pin dropping could be heard in the silence.

Their gazes clashed intensely in the air, an invisible smoke of war spreading.

Jasper Crowe’s face fell completely, coldly saying, "Noah Grant, the Crowe and Grant families have stayed out of each other’s business! But Ian Kane is a pillar of our Crowe Family! You want to take action against him, and you’re crossing the Crowe Family!"

"For a woman, are you willing to become enemies with our Crowe Family? Is it worth it?"

Noah Grant’s lips curved slightly, giving him a sidelong glance before striding away.

Jasper Crowe watched his decisive back, biting his molars: They’re all fucking crazy, every single one of them!

In the inquiry room, Vera cooperated with the police to make a statement.

She had just stepped out when her footsteps halted.

At the other end of the corridor, Ian Kane was walking over with two police officers accompanying him.

He was wearing loose casual clothes, with a heavy plaster cast on his left arm, suspended by a sling across his chest. A small piece of gauze was taped to his temple, and a few strands of hair hung loose, adding a touch of dishevelment.

The moment Ian Kane saw Vera Sheridan, his gaze turned icy cold.

His lawyer quickly stepped forward, whispering, "President Kane, Madam... Miss Sheridan’s recent statement proves that Noah Grant pulled out a rescue rope as the vehicle was falling, attempting to save you, indicating no direct motive for intentional murder. As for those words... she explained them as words said in the heat of the moment."

"Words in the heat of the moment?" Ian Kane spat out the words through clenched teeth, his chest heaving violently, agitating his injury, causing his face to turn even paler, yet the hatred in his eyes burned even fiercer.

He walked step by step to stand in front of Vera Sheridan, looking down, a deeply sarcastic curve appearing at the corner of his mouth, his voice low:

"Ha... our black-and-white, no-dust-allowed-in-the-eyes Ms. Sheridan, the pure artist..." He dragged out his words, each one dripping with sharp mockery, "To cover up for your despicable lover, you can barefacedly... make baseless claims?"

Before he had finished speaking, the corners of his eyes turned blood red.

Vera Sheridan met his hate-filled gaze, without a hint of avoidance.

"Ian Kane!" Her voice was clear, her demeanor stern, "Stop using your vile mindset to judge a gentleman’s heart!"

She stepped forward, unafraid, staring straight into his ominous eyes, every word loud and clear:

"Last night, don’t say Senior Grant intended to save you from the start! Even if he hadn’t saved you—"

"Whatever ends you meet, it’s all your own doing!"

The last four words, like a cold verdict, echoed in the empty corridor, thoroughly severing the last shred of hope in Ian Kane’s heart.

The man’s tall figure swayed almost imperceptibly.

A surge of rage burst forth, as he was about to step forward again.

The police immediately intervened, separating the two: "Mr. Kane, please continue to cooperate with our investigation."

Ian Kane was forcibly led towards the interrogation room.

As he turned the corner, he sharply glanced back at Vera Sheridan.

In the interrogation room.

The door closed, isolating them from the outside world.

Ian Kane immediately saw Jasper Crowe looking grim.

He leaned in, his voice extremely low, carrying a destructive intensity: "Release the recorder contents! I want Noah Grant’s reputation ruined!"

Jasper Crowe’s face darkened, his chin gesturing towards the wall.

Ian Kane followed his line of sight—on the wall, a projector was playing a video:

In the footage, Noah Grant swiftly and deftly fastened a thick rope to the car’s front towing hook, then without hesitation, gripped the other end of the rope, and sprinted towards the edge of the cliff, where the Phantom was.

A police officer spoke at the right moment, with an official tone: "Mr. Kane, based on your previous accusations, we reviewed Mr. Noah Grant’s vehicle’s dashcam."

"The records show that after your vehicle went off the cliff, Mr. Grant took immediate rescue actions, including taking out a professional rescue rope and attempting to secure and perform a rescue. His actions were coherent and clearly directed, significantly contradicting the accusations of ’not aiding’ or ’intentionally causing the fall.’ The existing video evidence does not support the conclusion of a subjective intent for murder."

Ian Kane stared intensely at the frozen image—the silhouette of Noah Grant gripping the rope, charging towards the abyss.

His eyes were filled with incredulous shock.

At the same time, his mind recalled the scene where Vera Sheridan had justly judged him...

After a long while, remembering Noah Grant’s resentful gaze, he raised the corner of his mouth in a sneer, "Just a performance after the fact."

Jasper Crowe frowned tightly, tiredly pinching the bridge of his nose, "Morally, you have your reasons to doubt, but legally..." his voice lowered, "With this video released, we can’t do anything to him. If you broadcast this further, he’ll sue us for false accusations, and this whole thing... we’ll have to drop it."

Ian Kane clenched his fists heavily.

Just then, his lawyer hurriedly pushed the door open, face serious, handing a document to Ian Kane: "President Kane, urgent matter.

Ms. Vera Sheridan has filed an emergency personal protection order and a forced dissolution of marriage application in court, alleging your intentional delay in treatment caused her disability and seriously endangered her personal safety."

The lawyer paused, his tone grave, "The court summons has been delivered. If you have objections to the forced dissolution of marriage application, you need to appear in court the day after tomorrow to present your defense."

"Forced dissolution of marriage"—immediate divorce!

Ian Kane slammed his fist into the wall, the joints making a dull, cracking sound...

...

Exiting the police station’s door, Vera Sheridan instinctively checked her phone again—still no news regarding Noah Grant’s "intentional murder."

Noah Grant, catching her action from the corner of his eye, spoke in a steady, low voice: "Don’t worry, no media dares to publish that."

Vera Sheridan instantly felt reassured.

At this moment, their attention was drawn to a few cars parked in the police station’s front yard.

Three top-class black sedans, silently exuding an overwhelming presence.

The license plate of the leading car, starting with Beijing A, ending with a string of 0s and a 9, signified that the person inside possessed an astonishing level of influence.

Noah Grant’s eyes narrowed slightly.

A driver in a neatly pressed uniform quickly approached, bowing respectfully to Noah Grant, "Second Young Master, the old master invites you to get in the car."

Vera Sheridan frowned lightly—it was Noah Grant’s father’s fleet.