the two-faced Adopted Girl Who Melted CEO's Ice-Cold Heart
Chapter 220: Over the years, I see not only your legs have failed you, but your mind as well.

Chapter 220: Chapter 220: Over the years, I see not only your legs have failed you, but your mind as well.

Ignatius Leclair’s expression was cold and stern as he ordered the butler to dismiss the servants. He glanced at Bessie Leclair, and that single glance, filled with indifference and hostility, sent a chill through Bessie to her core. Her crying gradually subsided, and her complexion turned pale.

Delphine delivered a slap to Bessie with all her remaining strength, her body swaying slightly afterward.

Ignatius reached out from behind to steady her, silently picking her up and carrying her upstairs. He instructed the butler in a deep voice, "Bring the bruise ointment from the medicine chest upstairs."

Bessie stared at the scene in disbelief, trembling with fury before bursting into tears again, wailing, "You’re my real cousin, my blood relative! And yet, you don’t care when Delphine Carter hits me. I can’t stay in this house anymore; I’m going to find Grandpa!"

"Crying, crying, crying—it’s all you ever do," muttered Mrs. Beatrice Carter softly. Although she appeared calm, she was so thoroughly terrified of Delphine that her hands and feet were trembling.

Hit Bessie? All these years in the Leclair residence, Beatrice had endured countless grievances and had never dared to lay a hand on this "precious little Miss," let alone challenge Ignatius directly. Ever since she discovered that Ignatius held all her secrets in his grasp, Beatrice would reverse course whenever she saw him.

Delphine was dazed for only a moment before quickly recovering. Once upstairs, she lowered her eyes and pushed Ignatius away, entering the bathroom.

The man wasn’t annoyed. He stood at the bathroom door for a while, listening to the sound of the shower running inside, and eventually felt slightly reassured, heading downstairs.

When Ignatius descended, Maximilian and Jin Liu had already dragged the unconscious Ambrose River into the side hall.

"Wake him up," Ignatius said, pressing his throbbing temples. He sat on the sofa, his expression dark and fierce. Glancing at Beatrice Carter, he remarked, "Mrs. Carter, you’d best not listen in."

Beatrice was shocked and quickly went upstairs.

Ambrose was awakened with a direct splash of cold water. In the retro-luxurious side hall, his first sight was the lavish handwoven carpet. The old house was filled with treasures, every corner exuding refinement.

"I heard Mr. River belongs to the Shaw Family?" came a voice as cold and sharp as metal, from the man seated on the sofa. Overlooking him from above, both dignified and commanding, Ignatius radiated restrained nobility and an innate authority.

"Y-yes, yes, yes." Ambrose, his limbs shaking, knelt on the ground, stammering and nodding forcefully. His head hit the floor as he trembled uncontrollably. At this point, his only hope was that the man might spare his life out of respect for the Imperial City Shaw Family.

Ignatius let out a cold laugh, his voice deep and ruthless: "Summon Richard Shaw."

Maximilian quickly contacted the former Major General of the Shaw Family, glancing at the half-dead, overweight man sprawled nearby. It had been years since Ignatius personally dealt with anyone.

The night in Imperial City was dark and heavy. Richard Shaw, who had the habit of staying up late—or rather, since becoming a solitary retiree, spent more hours awake than asleep at night—answered the call.

"What’s the matter?" On the video screen, the resolute and battle-hardened man arched a brow. The recent turbulence in Nanyang must have been serious; Ignatius had sought him out more in the past year than in the previous five combined.

Ignatius stood up and replied indifferently, "The man kneeling on the ground claims he’s one of yours from the Shaw Family. Before I take action, perhaps you’d like to claim him."

The sight of Ambrose groveling on the floor had long reduced him to incoherence, clutching at this last straw of survival as he wailed, "Mr. Shaw, save me, please save me!"

Richard studied Ambrose for a while before finally recognizing him and asked in disbelief, "How did he provoke you? He’s the son-in-law of the housemaid at the main residence."

If Richard hadn’t undergone specialized training since childhood, developing an eidetic memory, he might not have recognized the man. Ambrose was rotund and amusing; Richard had seen him once years ago when the maid brought him to pay respects at a birthday celebration for the matriarch. He hadn’t encountered him since.

Ignatius curled his lips into a cold smile, his deep-set eyes sharp as knives, and his words merciless: "The Imperial City’s Shaw Family truly holds unrivaled power. Even the son-in-law of a maid manages to flaunt the Shaw name in Nanyang with impunity, committing countless wrongs. It seems you’ve not only crippled your legs these past years but also your brain."