THE DISABLED HEIRESS, MY EX-HUSBAND WOULD PAY DEARLY.-Chapter 314
The guard whimpered under his breath, not daring to fight back. His feet stumbled over the glossy tiled floor as Lisa pulled him forward mercilessly. The hallway was long, decorated with priceless antiques and family portraits, but neither Oliver nor Lisa cared. They walked with the air of people who owned the place
or were about to.
Some of the maids inside the house had been carrying flower vases, trays of tea, or folding towels. One of them froze in place, her eyes wide, the teacups on her tray rattling as her hands trembled. Another let out a small shriek and turned on her heels, rushing off in panic toward the main living room, her slippers slapping loudly against the floor as she ran. Whispers flew from one corner of the house to another — "Strangers! Intruders! Someone just broke in!"
In a matter of seconds, the mansion buzzed with unease.
And then, just like that, Oliver and Lisa pushed open the doors to the grand living room.
Inside, Mr. Jackson had been calmly sipping his wine with his legs crossed, seated like a king on his throne. At his side was Robert, who had been glancing through some documents on a tablet. Across from them sat a stranger — a man in a black suit with silver streaks in his hair, his eyes cold and calculating. He had clearly been an important guest.
But the moment Oliver entered, silence fell.
All three men stood up instantly.
Mr. Jackson's hand was still holding his wine glass mid-air as his brows furrowed. Robert slowly straightened up, his body tense as if instinctively preparing for danger. And the stranger with silver hair narrowed his eyes with sharp alertness.
No one said a word yet.
Lisa walked in right behind Oliver, still dragging the guard, and with a flick of her wrist, she shoved the trembling man forward. He crashed to the floor and quickly knelt without being told, his face red with shame, fear, and confusion.
The entire room was now frozen in a heavy silence.
Every eye was on Oliver.
The guard stumbled forward like his legs barely belonged to him. His chest was rising and falling fast as he half-ran, half-crawled toward the center of the room—towards Mr. Jackson.
The moment he reached him, he dropped to his knees with a loud thud, both hands raised as if begging for his life. His voice trembled as he spoke, words tumbling out one after the other in sheer panic.
"Sir! I—I'm very, very sorry!" he cried, practically choking on his own breath. "I didn't mean to let them in, I swear! They took us by surprise. I tried to stop them! I told them right there at the gate, this was the greatest mistake of their lives! I warned them! I told them this is the Jackson family residence! I said it loud and clear, but they didn't listen, sir. They just laughed, then they started fighting—fighting us! They pushed us aside and forced their way in. I know I failed you, sir. I know I did. I'm very, very sorry. Please forgive me, sir."
He lowered his head to the floor and stayed there, breathing hard and shaking. But Mr. Jackson didn't say a word.
He sat still in his chair like a man carved out of stone. His expression didn't change. His eyes didn't even blink. He simply stared at the man in front of him, silent, cold, unreadable.
The tension in the room grew heavier. Everyone could feel it. The guard was clearly waiting for something—anything—but none came. 𝒇𝓻𝓮𝓮𝙬𝙚𝒃𝒏𝓸𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝓬𝓸𝒎
Then, Robert's voice cut sharply through the silence.
He stepped forward, his hand raised, his finger pointing directly on Oliver.
"Father…" he said with a tone that was tight and bitter. "This is the same man I told you about. The one who came to the office to threaten me. And now… now he's here."
At that moment, upon hearing what Robert just said, a thick silence swept across the entire hallway. All eyes turned to Mr. Jackson, and the atmosphere suddenly grew heavier—like a storm was about to break loose. The expression on Mr. Jackson's face darkened instantly, and everyone could see the fire behind his eyes. His jaw tightened as he slowly turned toward Oliver. His stare was sharp, cold, and deadly, like a blade drawn in quiet anger.
"So you mean," Mr. Jackson said, his voice low at first, but thick with fury, "this is the same boy… the very same thing that came into your office to threaten you—and now… now… he dares to step foot in my house? To cause a nuisance right under my roof?!" His voice rose with each word, trembling with rage. "How dare you!"
Oliver didn't say a word. He stood still, his expression unreadable, but his eyes were calm, as if he wasn't surprised by the outburst. But that calm only angered Mr. Jackson further. Before he could say another word, his gaze snapped to the other man in the room.
It was Abigail's father.
Mr. Jackson was about to apologize to him for this little drama, the humiliation that just happened right in front of him, and wanting to assure him, that it was just another shameless accomplice. But then he noticed something strange.
Abigail's father wasn't standing anymore, but kneeling.
Immediately Mr. Jackson's brows furrowed.
He hadn't even spoken yet. No one had told him to kneel. And yet here this man was—kneeling in the middle of the Jackson family residence, head slightly lowered, hands at his sides. There was no pride, no arrogance, only shame and silent submission.
It wasn't a coincidence.
He was begging.
Before Mr. Jackson could even demand an explanation, Abigail's father looked toward Oliver and quickly spoke, his voice cracking with panic.
"Mr.Oliver… please," he said, "I know how this looks, but I swear—I didn't come here to support any of this. I didn't come here to disrespect your family. I… I came to warn them. I told them they should leave my
family alone."
