Will the Aloof Billionaire Divorce Today?

Soon, someone brought over the shoes covered in sewage and sand.

Maxwell Saxon took the shoes.

He looked down at them, and after a few minutes of silence, he turned his head to look out the window.

Not far outside the window, there was a dark, somber sea.

As evening approached, the night sky seemed to be poured into the sea, blending with the dark blue waters.

"Uncle Thompson stays, the rest can leave," Maxwell Saxon’s face reflected the night outside the window, as if it were dyed with a layer of somber cold tones, a single glance instilling a deep sense of fear.

Soon, everyone except Uncle Thompson had left.

Maxwell Saxon threw the shoes onto the ground.

His gaze slowly returned from the window, his midnight black eyes meaningfully staring at Uncle Thompson. After a moment of silence, he spoke slowly, "Uncle Thompson, do you know why I only kept you here?"

Uncle Thompson was taken aback and shook his head, "Young Master, I don’t know."

Maxwell Saxon still held a wisp of a smile at the corner of his lips.

His deep, inscrutable eyes focused on Uncle Thompson for a while, as his smile gradually turned cold, "I called the others away out of respect for the years you’ve been with me, giving you some face. Throughout these years, you’ve been the person I trust the most by my side. I thought this trust was worth entrusting someone I care about to you. I hoped you could extend your affection by association, even if you don’t really like her, to be more tolerant for my sake, to accommodate her more, or to try slowly accepting and liking her."

"But now it seems, you’re not worthy of my trust."

"Uncle Thompson, haven’t I told you more than once how important she is to me? Haven’t I mentioned to you that she is the only woman I want to bring home, the woman I want to protect and cherish for a lifetime?"

With each question, his eyes grew colder.

Uncle Thompson’s expression became increasingly unpleasant, "Young Master..."

Maxwell Saxon looked at him with an extremely disappointed expression, sighed, shook his head, and laughed coldly, "I know you don’t like her, and I know you’re scheming something bad in your mind. That’s why I’ve repeatedly reminded you of how important she is to me. I thought you would understand my meaning and not do those foolish things, but you’ve still let me down."

Let me down...

When those words came out of Maxwell Saxon’s mouth, Uncle Thompson suddenly lifted his head. Under the light, his face was exceptionally pale.

Merely those two words, "let down," were more severe than any reprimand or punishment, making him realize the seriousness of the situation.

His lips moved several times, hurriedly wanting to explain, "Young Master, I..."

This man, usually mature, steady, and gracefully noble, now appeared a bit flustered.

Maxwell Saxon only looked at him coldly, eyes emanating a chilling aura that penetrated to the bone, "Where is she?"

Uncle Thompson shivered, "Young Master, I know you don’t want to believe Miss Yates fell into the sea, but she really did..."

"I’ll ask once more, where did you and Mother take her?"

With a loud bang, in a fit of rage, Maxwell Saxon punched a vase placed on the case, shattering it.

The blue and white porcelain vase fell to the ground with a crisp cracking sound, then broke into pieces.

The water inside the vase spilled onto the ground, and the roses placed inside also fell all over the place.

The red roses, brilliantly colored, each petal seemed to be dyed with blood.

One drop, two drops, three drops...