the two-faced Adopted Girl Who Melted CEO's Ice-Cold Heart
Chapter 67 Ignatius Leclair is So Outrageously Savage

Chapter 67: Chapter 67 Ignatius Leclair is So Outrageously Savage

"You don’t have to be afraid." Jocelyn Yeager saw her reaction, seized her arm, and said in a low voice, "You know, from childhood to now, I would never hurt you. I just don’t understand, Delphine, how could you? How could you get entangled with someone like Ignatius Leclair?"

The final words were deep and indistinct, carrying a chilling undertone. He had investigated for more than a month, leveraging every connection he had, and only then did he vaguely uncover that Delphine was living at Emerald Lake. Things that had baffled him in the past suddenly became clear.

So, Ignatius Leclair—such a vile beast in human form. Over the years, Jocelyn Yeager had privately delved into his secrets. Ignatius’ return to the Southern Isles was not to inherit the century-old Leclair estate; he had ulterior motives.

Jocelyn’s eyes flashed with a trace of restraint, and his expression turned grim. Fixing his gaze on Delphine, he pronounced each word deliberately: "Five years ago, was that man him?"

The secret Delphine had hidden in her heart for years was exposed by his single sentence. Her entire body went cold, and she didn’t know how to respond. She reflexively shook her head, but Jocelyn had already discerned the answer he was seeking. Remembering how, years ago, he had rushed to the Leclair mansion upon hearing the news—how that man had personally driven out the just-of-age Delphine, dismissing her with cold cruelty beneath the sycamore tree—it was as if a knife had twisted in his heart. Fury and regret surged forth like a tidal wave.

Suddenly, he pulled Delphine into his arms, holding her tightly. His voice was compressed with pain as he murmured, "I’m sorry."

Delphine froze, and then tears cascaded down her face. She didn’t even know why she was crying. All these years, no one had given her a simple hug, no one had asked if she was doing well, and no one had ever apologized to her. She tilted her head back to force the tears away and said hoarsely, "This has nothing to do with you. Don’t pity me."

Jocelyn stroked her soft hair, released her, and then turned away with restraint, forcing the redness in his eyes to fade.

How old had Delphine been back then? Only eighteen when she was driven out. And when Ignatius had lured her in, she must have been even younger. That scum—how could he do something so utterly depraved? If Jocelyn hadn’t sensed something was amiss and started investigating in secret, such filth and darkness might have remained buried forever. And if, one day when Ignatius grew bored and decided to harm Delphine with even more insidious methods, what could a fragile woman like her have done?

Jocelyn’s handsome face was clouded with anger, his heart a turmoil of sorrow and rage. He viciously kicked the car door.

It was the first time Delphine had ever seen him lose his temper. She was somewhat frightened and remained silent.

"Does your aunt know about this?" Jocelyn lowered his voice, speaking with a hint of gloom.

Delphine shook her head and replied bitterly, "I’m not even sure myself. If my aunt knew about this, would she pretend not to, or would she choose to beat me to death?"

She dared not speculate on human nature.

Over the years, Madam Gu had never officially become Mrs. Leclair, in large part because of Ignatius Leclair. Madam Gu had once told her that the Leclair patriarch had always refused to let her into the family, simply because he didn’t want to upset his beloved eldest grandson.

"If that’s the case, why did you come back? After all these years, you could have stayed away."

"To settle the scores of the past." Her voice was slightly cold as she looked into the distance at the night. The Imperial City’s night was bustling and vibrant, no less than that of the Southern Isles. She had once asked herself: If young Zhen hadn’t fallen ill, would she have returned? The answer remained the same—yes. Simply because this was the Southern Isles, the turning point of her life’s fate.

No matter how far or long she traveled, if a person’s heart remained trapped in the past, unable to escape, living was no different from being a walking corpse.

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