Chapter 423 - 420: Got Married
"It must have been so hard for you, holding it in all these days."
Nicholas Ainsworth laughed. "You’re one to talk. You slept with your ex-husband, yet you still get into bed with me every night without the slightest hint of shame. Now that I’m giving you a taste of your own medicine, you can’t take it? Jean Grant, if you just wanted to mess around with men, why did you even bother getting married?"
Jean Grant refused to admit it. "I didn’t. That’s all there is to it. No matter how many times you say it, it didn’t happen."
Nicholas Ainsworth let out a cold laugh, forcing her over to the computer desk. He turned on the computer and played a video.
Jean Grant’s eyes widened in disbelief. She never imagined it would be a video of her and Marlon Marshall in a hotel room. There was no sound, but from the look on her face, she was clearly enjoying every moment.
In an instant, her steadfast denial became a slap in her own face.
The palms of Jean Grant’s hands grew icy cold, and her face turned deathly pale.
"You... How could you...?"
"What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue? Jean Grant, don’t assume everyone is as idiotic as you are. I had surveillance cameras installed in that room a long time ago. And not just there—in the banquet hall, too. I didn’t plan on it, but then I saw Marlon Marshall show up at our wedding. That shit-stirrer... did you really think he came to wish you well?"
His words left Jean Grant utterly mortified.
"I was forced."
"But here’s the thing. I watch this video every day. Every day, I watch my wife underneath another man, and I can’t help but wonder... That expression on your face, that compliance... it doesn’t look like you were being forced at all. Isn’t that strange?"
Jean Grant met his gaze. "If that’s the case, then let’s just part amicably. I’ll have my brother send you the divorce papers."
He sneered. "Divorce papers? Did you really not understand what I just said, or did it just go in one ear and out the other? I’m not divorcing you. If you get your brother involved, I’ll post this shameless video of yours all over the internet. How does that sound?"
’Threatened again, but this time by a different person.’
Jean Grant despised this feeling—this helpless, binding sensation, this inability to struggle, this forced submission. It cast a dark shadow over her entire life.
"Nicholas Ainsworth, are you trying to torture me?"
"No. I just want you to know what true emotional pain feels like. And don’t thank me. I’m doing this for your own good. After all, it’s easy for a good woman to become a whore, but for a whore to find redemption... that’s easier said than done." His hand stroked her hair, but each touch felt like the light scrape of a knife’s edge.
Jean Grant violently wrenched herself free, grabbed her bag, and rushed out.
The door remained open. Nicholas Ainsworth stood there, watching the rest of the video play on the computer screen, his gaze growing darker and more intense.
「The next few days were deceptively calm.」
Soon, Saturday arrived.
It was a joyous occasion for the Ellsworth family, the likes of which hadn’t been seen in ages!
Ethan Ellsworth and Chloe Marshall were getting married.
They had already registered their marriage the previous morning.
Today was the wedding ceremony itself.
Ethan Ellsworth hadn’t slept a wink the night before.
But when he got up this morning, he was still full of energy and in high spirits.
His energy earned him scornful looks from the other two groomsmen. ’Being the groom really is something else, huh?’
Dressed in a white wedding suit with a bow tie, his hair styled impeccably, and even wearing a bit of makeup, no one could deny Ethan Ellsworth’s charisma at that moment.
Quentin Grant and Herman Hawthorne, both in sharp black suits and white bow ties, stood beaming on either side of Ethan as they posed for photos with the two bridesmaids.
As the bride’s party, bridesmaids Zoe Ellsworth and Nora Ainsworth headed to the church together after the photos were done.
Dylan Grant and Dorothy Ellsworth were the flower children.
Everyone was radiating happiness.
Most celebrity weddings are either simple, private affairs or are closed to the media entirely.
But Ethan Ellsworth’s wedding not only featured a procession of 99 luxury cars, it was also open to the media for a live broadcast.
He had only one reason for doing this: he wanted to tell the entire world that Chloe Marshall was marrying him, and he wanted everyone to be his witness that for the rest of his life, he would never let her go.
Thanks to Ethan Ellsworth’s immense popularity, swarms of fans brought traffic to a complete standstill. This was where Quentin Grant’s Men in Black came in handy. Thousands of them were stationed along the entire route—from the church to the hotel, and all the way to their new home in the upscale residential complex—preventing fans from getting too close.
Quentin Grant leaned against a table, swirling a glass of red wine as he looked at Ethan with a grin. "I actually caught the news for once yesterday. Congrats on making the headlines. The number of comments on that story was staggering. You really are incredibly popular—a heartthrob for women of all ages!"
Herman Hawthorne slipped his phone into his suit jacket. "I was just checking Weibo. One of your fans, a woman in her thirties, tried to kill herself by jumping into a river. They rescued her. Said she couldn’t handle the news of you getting married."
Quentin Grant rubbed his forehead. "Ellsworth, you’re a real menace."
Ethan adjusted his tie. "Even if I am, I’m still not as bad as you."
"What did I do?"
"What did you do? Quentin, have you forgotten? Back in high school, that girl who jumped off a building for you? She died, and you didn’t even spare her a single glance."
Herman Hawthorne clapped his hands. "Oh, I remember that! She was really pretty, too. What a shame."
Quentin Grant cleared his throat a few times. "I refuse to acknowledge that this cold-hearted person you speak of is me."
"Deny it all you want. We all saw it with our own eyes."
Just then, Mr. Ellsworth came in. "The ceremony is about to start. I’m going to get Chloe."
Quentin Grant set down his wine glass and clapped Ethan on the shoulder. "Congratulations on stepping into the grave of matrimony. I’ll just hang around outside for a bit while you go on in and test the waters."
Ethan gave him a look of disdain. "You don’t even qualify to test the waters. I’ll just assume you’re green with envy."
Quentin calmly retorted, "I’m just observing from a safe distance. Look at Young Master Hawthorne—he went in, came back out, and now he’s desperate to get back in. Seriously, man, I hope you never come out. You and Chloe stay in there together. Forever."
"Hmph. You finally said something decent."
The three men walked out together. Just as they reached the head of the aisle, they saw Chloe Marshall emerge, looking radiant in a pure white wedding gown, her arm linked with Mr. Ellsworth’s.
Her makeup was exquisite, her expression a mixture of bashfulness and bliss, and her smile was utterly genuine.
Ethan looked at her and smiled. The sight of their eyes meeting brought tears to Zoe Ellsworth’s.
Mr. Ellsworth placed her hand in Ethan’s and then returned to his seat among the guests.
He held her hand tightly as they stood side by side, taking one step after another down the aisle.
The flower children followed close behind them, with the bridesmaids and groomsmen after that.
The real scene-stealer, however, was Dorothy Ellsworth.
She kept striking cute poses, a small, blissful smile on her face as she held the train of the bride’s gown, scattering flower petals as she went.
Finally, they reached the pastor at the altar.
The flower children, bridesmaids, and groomsmen took their places, and the eyes of every guest fell upon the bride and groom.