Prosperous Marriage: Married to My Brother-in-law-Chapter 557: Pheobe Rogers’ Crushing Defeat (4)_1

On the fourth-floor balcony, James Horne stood silently, his gaze fixed on the scene below. He witnessed his mother striking someone, as well as Mila Anderson hitting others. He didn't understand how he could still be standing there, motionless, watching as his biological mother was harshly slapped twice by Mila Anderson. With each slap that landed, his heart clenched. He was an unfilial son; his mother was being beaten, and yet he just stood there at a higher vantage point, watching. He desperately wanted to run downstairs, to stand by his mother's side and comfort her. But as he turned to leave, his feet seemed nailed to the floor, unable to take a single step—all because the events of the previous night echoed in his ears.

He resented his mother's greed. His father had already provided her with a life of utmost ease; even without a formal title, her material comforts were splendid. Yet, she still coveted the Horne family's assets, claiming it was for his sake when, in reality, she desired to be the mistress of the Horne family. He loathed even more that his mother dared to target Julia. Both Julia and his eldest brother were his sacred ground, his Achilles' heels; he would not permit his mother to touch them!

His mother even had the audacity to have Julia sent to his bed! Yes, he did deeply desire Julia, but she was already his brother's wife, and he would never again entertain thoughts of possessing her in this lifetime. However, if his mother's plot succeeded, Julia would suffer immense harm. Given how much his brother cared for Julia, if he ever found out that she had lain in his bed, his brother would be furious, and out of jealousy, might even hurt Julia.

His mother had made too many, too grave mistakes, leading him to be increasingly disappointed in her—so disappointed that now, as he watched her being hit by Mila Anderson, he felt no urge to go downstairs to help her.

However, when he saw Julia return, he could no longer remain still. He turned away from the balcony, left his room, and headed downstairs.

He knew Julia would surely side with Mila Anderson against his own mother. Considering his mother's hatred for his eldest brother, he worried she might harm Julia. Before leaving, his brother had entrusted the safety of Julia and her unborn child to him, and he was determined to protect them well.

"Adele, shut your mouth! It's not your place to meddle in adult affairs!" Gian Horne, his face livid with rage from Adele Horne's barrage of retorts, immediately scolded her.

"Am I wrong? Dad, ask yourself, did I say anything incorrect?" Adele Horne, even more incensed, was angry that her father always criticized her.

Should she smile and say to Pheobe Rogers, the woman who stole her father: "Aunt Pheobe, oh how fortunate you are, to be so old yet still so loved by my dad!" Sorry, she couldn't say it, nor could she do it.

"Gian, look at this. Your wife, your daughter, they're all bullying me. My life is so hard. Why is my life so miserable, Gian..." Seeing that Gian Horne was admonishing Adele Horne on her behalf, Pheobe Rogers suddenly began to cry and wail, putting on a very realistic performance that was heart-wrenchingly pitiful.

"Pheobe..." Gian Horne felt both heartache and embarrassment. He did still have feelings for Pheobe Rogers.

Mila Anderson let out a cold laugh as she watched him coolly. This man, who had recently been trying so hard to please her and save their marriage, was like a fence-sitter, swaying from side to side. She had completely seen through him now. Such a man, she truly did not want anymore. If Pheobe Rogers wanted him, she could have him.

"Adele, let's go inside. Momma's tired." After her cold laughter, Mila Anderson let out a long sigh, took Adele's hand, and turned to leave.

"Mila." Seeing Mila turn to leave, Gian Horne immediately pushed Pheobe Rogers away. He rushed forward, grabbing Mila's arm, his face flushed. "Mila," he called out, "I... I'm sorry."

"Don't touch me!" Mila Anderson fiercely shook off his grasp, turned her head, and growled coldly.

Sorry? It was laughable. Thirty years of infidelity, and only now did he have the nerve to say sorry. Did he really think those two words could erase thirty years of betrayal?

"Gian." Pheobe Rogers shamelessly clung to him again.

And so, this picture formed: Mila Anderson wanting to leave, Gian Horne holding on to her, and Pheobe Rogers clinging to Gian Horne.

"Get the camera! Capture this embarrassing scene!" Julia's voice suddenly rang out.

Hearing this, all three of them stopped their tugging, each wearing a different expression.

Indeed, this scene was utterly embarrassing. In the eyes of outsiders, the majestic Horne Family compound, akin to a royal palace, played host to such an ugly scene: a lover, a wife, and a man—three people intertwined in a messy struggle. And their combined ages tipped over a hundred.

A bodyguard, seemingly from nowhere, found a camera and indeed captured these moments.

"Julia!" Gian Horne called out in a low voice.

"The fine daughter raised by the Bluen Family! She doesn't even respect her own in-laws! Mila, look, this is your wonderful daughter-in-law. See, she's capturing all your ugly sides! Heh, I don't care if I'm ugly in your eyes. But you... heh, you deserve this!" Pheobe Rogers suddenly laughed.

"Ms. Rogers, rest assured, with today's advanced technology, I'll have some exciting photos produced for your review. Should they show my parents embracing while watching you get beaten? Or perhaps, my parents joining forces, each slapping you across the face? I wonder which scene you'd like to see?" Julia said, a smile playing on her lips that didn't reach her eyes.

"You..." Pheobe Rogers's face turned green.

Mila Anderson, however, began to laugh. "Julia, the scene I'd like to see is her getting beaten. It would be best to have it produced and put on the internet as a warning to the world that those who become mistresses never meet a good end," Mila Anderson chimed in, picking up on Julia's cue.

"Well, I think turning our thick-skinned Ms. Rogers into a beggar woman—disheveled, hair a mess, and barely clothed—would send an even clearer warning to the world," Julia continued. As she spoke, the three bodyguards began to close in on Pheobe Rogers, looking as if they were truly about to turn her into such a state.

"Julia Bluen, if you dare harm a single hair on my head, my James won't let you off! You demon! You're just like Glades Horne—both of you are demons, devouring people without spitting out the bones! I don't even know how my James could..."

"Mom!" James Horne called out coldly, interrupting Pheobe Rogers just as she was about to reveal his feelings for Julia.