Chapter 511 - 505: Scandal
"Holy hell, that’s disgusting. How did he end up like this?"
Herman Hawthorne’s eyes glinted. "I heard he’s planning to make a move on the Grant Group. Zoe, let’s go."
Zoe Ellsworth asked no more questions, simply hurrying alongside him toward the hotel entrance.
They followed Nicholas Ainsworth to the eighth floor and watched him enter Suite 8008. Seeing this, Zoe Ellsworth noticed Herman Hawthorne smile.
"Don’t tell me you’re..."
"Zoe, I’m going to give Young Master Grant a call."
Zoe Ellsworth nodded. As the two of them stepped into the elevator, Herman Hawthorne dialed Quentin Grant’s number and exchanged a few words with him.
After hanging up, he was in such a good mood that he planted two kisses on Zoe Ellsworth’s cheeks. She wiped them off and rolled her eyes at him. "You’re being weird again."
It wasn’t long after Herman Hawthorne’s call that reporters from the Alveria Group’s news weekly arrived swiftly.
Posing as hotel staff, they knocked on Nicholas Ainsworth’s door.
They captured every last moment on camera. Nicholas Ainsworth panicked, trying to block the reporters and offering an exorbitant sum for the photos. But to no avail—the news weekly wouldn’t sell, no matter the price.
Nicholas Ainsworth was no longer in the mood for any fun and games. He went straight home to come up with a plan.
Before he got home, Jean Grant had already received a call from her brother and was well aware of the situation.
So when Nicholas Ainsworth returned home, his face grim, Jean Grant was lying in bed reading a book, pretending she hadn’t seen him.
"Jean," he said, sitting hurriedly on the edge of the bed and grabbing her hand.
Jean Grant didn’t move. She glanced up at him. "What’s wrong? Didn’t you say you had business to take care of and would be back late?"
"Will you do me a favor?"
"What kind of favor?"
"I’m holding a press conference tomorrow. I need you to go up there and help me clarify something."
Jean Grant wasn’t falling for it. "You need to be clear. How am I supposed to help you clarify anything when you’re being so vague? I can’t make heads or tails of what you’re saying."
Nicholas Ainsworth seemed to find it difficult to speak, but he said it anyway. "I was at a hotel meeting friends tonight, and we ran into some reporters. They took pictures of us. One of them... was a man, a gay man, dressed as a woman. Jean, you know I like women. How could I possibly be with a man? They’ll probably publish the story tomorrow, so you have to help me set the record straight."
Jean Grant took out her phone, browsed for a moment, and then showed him the screen. "You don’t have to wait until tomorrow. It’s already been published."
Nicholas Ainsworth’s face went pale as he looked. He knew that a scandal of this magnitude involving the company’s top leadership would make the stock price plummet tomorrow.
"Jean!" Nicholas Ainsworth pinned all his hopes on his wife. "You have to help me clear this up tomorrow. Just say you were there too, that you just arrived late. Otherwise, the Ainsworth Group is going to be affected by this news."
Jean Grant sneered inwardly. ’It wasn’t easy to get this kind of dirt on you. If I help you clarify things, you’ll just be more careful next time, and it won’t be so easy to catch you again. Do you think I’m an idiot?’
Even while she was thinking this, Jean Grant’s mind was already turning to something more: how to deal Nicholas Ainsworth an even more devastating blow.
Suddenly, a smile touched the corners of her lips. She had an idea.
"You’re holding a press conference tomorrow?"
"Of course."
"Fine, I’ll be there."
Hearing this, Nicholas Ainsworth relaxed considerably. He kissed the back of her hand. "Thank you, darling."
"Don’t thank me. It’s what I should do."
Nicholas Ainsworth didn’t think much of it and got under the covers. When he tried to embrace her, Jean Grant pointedly refused. "Don’t. I haven’t been feeling well at all lately."
He awkwardly pulled his hand back and said nothing.
That evening, the news was playing in the Grant family’s living room.
Just as Quentin Grant was about to head up to bed, a news anchor’s latest report caught his ear. He stared at the screen, watching intently.
"Several years ago, a woman’s foot suddenly surfaced in the river by the suburban bridge. In the years since, the police have worked tirelessly to crack the case, but to no avail. The reason is that no one in the country has been reported missing a foot, nor have any such victims been discovered. This has become one of the biggest cold cases in recent years. If you know of any missing persons, please contact the police immediately..."
Quentin Grant went upstairs and knocked on Sierra Ainsworth’s door. "Sierra, are you asleep?"
"Not yet, Brother-in-law." She opened the door. "What is it?"
"Some time ago, when your sister was framed by Catherine Callahan, her car plunged into the river. A woman’s foot was found in that same river, and the case has never been solved. Your sister and I suspected it might be yours, but the timeline didn’t add up. Regardless, we need to have it tested to know for sure. We’re heading to Grestin tomorrow, but for now, I’m taking you to see it."
Sierra Ainsworth didn’t hesitate. "Okay. Wait for me downstairs, Brother-in-law. I’ll go change."
"Okay."
Quentin Grant glanced at his watch. It wasn’t too late.
After a few minutes, Sierra Ainsworth came downstairs, and he took her to the police station.
After he explained their purpose, the police chief immediately led them away and called for a medical examiner to come over at once.
The moment she saw the foot, which had been preserved in a freezer, tears instantly fell from Sierra Ainsworth’s eyes. No further proof was necessary.
She knew her own foot better than anyone.
She reached out to cradle it, touching the foot that was frozen like an icicle. Then, she took off her shoe, removed her prosthesis, and placed the foot against what remained of her own leg.
It was a 99 percent match. The chief was dumbfounded.
Quentin Grant explained the situation to the chief, who was deeply moved upon hearing the story.
When the medical examiner arrived, they ran the tests anyway and confirmed that it was indeed Sierra Ainsworth’s foot.
"When it was pulled from the river a few years ago, Sierra’s foot had already been missing for several years. How could it still have been floating on the water? The timeline doesn’t match."
The chief waved a hand. "That’s what’s so clever about the criminal. It’s been preserved in our freezer for years since we found it, but it’s no different from the day it was pulled out of the water, right? If we can do that, why couldn’t the criminal?"
Quentin Grant understood instantly. "You’re saying the perpetrator didn’t dispose of the foot immediately. They preserved it in a secret location for years, afraid the police might find it with tracking dogs, and only recently decided to throw it away. They just never expected that they’d throw it into a river in Fravia, and that we would be the ones to find it."
"That’s the gist of it. But who is this criminal? Do you two have any ideas?"
Just as Sierra Ainsworth was about to speak, Quentin Grant shot her a meaningful look. He pulled the chief aside for a private word, then led Sierra back to the car.
"Brother-in-law, what did you say to the chief?"
Quentin Grant replied, "I told him to close the case immediately. That we know who the real culprit is."
Sierra Ainsworth didn’t understand. "Why not have them arrest Claire Sinclair?"
Quentin Grant turned to look at her. "Sierra, do you want Claire Sinclair to serve a few years in prison, or do you want her dead?"
"Dead, of course! I want her torn to a million pieces!"
Quentin Grant snapped his fingers. "Then that settles it."
Sierra Ainsworth instantly understood. "Brother-in-law, no wonder you stopped me from talking earlier. You already had a plan."
"If we’re going to get them all, we can’t be hasty. I won’t let her serve a few years in prison only to get out and harm you all again. If you want to eliminate a threat for good, you have to remember that only the dead can’t make a comeback."
Sierra Ainsworth felt a thrill of excitement. "Okay, Brother-in-law. You can take your people over tomorrow morning. I’ll stay home and take good care of the two little ones."
Quentin Grant smiled at her. "Good. We all need to come back safely, so we can reunite our family with Mom."
Sierra Ainsworth nodded. Reunion. Such a beautiful word.
Hearing that word again, it no longer felt so distant. On the contrary, she felt a special sense of anticipation.
Heavy rain fell the entire night.
By morning, the rain had stopped, and the weather had cleared.
When he got up, Nicholas Ainsworth immediately put on a suit and tie. His phone was ringing off the hook, but his expression was much calmer compared to the previous night.
Jean Grant got up soon after. She opened her closet, picked out a clean outfit, washed up, and then sat at her vanity to meticulously apply her makeup.
Within minutes, her bare face was transformed into a vision of exquisite beauty.
Seeing that she was taking a long time, Nicholas Ainsworth came upstairs to hurry her along. When he saw her, he was visibly taken aback for a moment.
Jean Grant had been going without makeup for a long time. Now that she was all done up, her face was stunning.
Good genes ran in the family.
She bore a strong resemblance to Quentin Grant, especially in the shape of her face and eyes. At first glance, one might even mistake her for him.
"It’s getting late. Hurry up and come down."
"Okay."
Jean Grant went downstairs and sat at the table to eat breakfast.
Sharon Ainsworth shot her a glare, but with Nicholas Ainsworth present, she didn’t dare say anything more.
Mr. Ainsworth and Catherine Callahan were being as nauseatingly lovey-dovey as ever.
Jean Grant knew she would be leaving the Ainsworth family after this press conference. Therefore, she had no intention of leaving with all her pent-up frustrations unsaid.
She would be letting it all out.
"Father-in-law, for you to act like this with a woman your daughter’s age, right in front of your own children... it’s truly disgusting."
Mr. Ainsworth’s face stiffened. Catherine Callahan paused and retorted, "You can just close your eyes. No one’s forcing you to watch."
"When a young woman gets with an older man, she’s either after his money or his... well, you know. I really can’t see any other reason to be with a man like that, especially at his age. Or perhaps she has other uses for him, who’s to say? In any case, you two have truly made me sick more than once." She picked up her glass and downed her milk in one gulp.
Catherine Callahan sneered. "Disgusting? Jean Grant, you’re a real piece of work, aren’t you? How many abortions did you have before you married into the Ainsworth family? And how exactly did your ex-husband, Marlon Marshall, die? Don’t you know best? Stop acting all high and mighty and lecturing others. If your brother hadn’t been there to clean up your messes, you’d be rotting in a jail cell right now!"
"You said it. It’s a shame everyone doesn’t have a great brother like mine, isn’t it?"
"You..."
Jean Grant wiped her mouth. "Time to go."
Nicholas Ainsworth frowned, sensing that Jean Grant was not acting like her usual self this morning.
He followed her out the door.
Catherine Callahan huffed indignantly. "Look at your daughter-in-law. She thinks her powerful background gives her the right to be so sarcastic and passive-aggressive."
Sharon Ainsworth, having finished her drink, chimed in, "Sooner or later, my brother will kick her to the curb."
"The sooner the better."
Nicholas Ainsworth and Jean Grant got in the car and drove straight to the Ainsworth Group Company.
The moment their car arrived, it was swarmed by reporters.
Nicholas Ainsworth got out, and without a word, he took Jean Grant by the hand and pushed through the crowd into the building.