Shirley Thorne could figure out anything Ethan Grant could. She couldn't just take his hundred million for nothing; she had to play her part.
'Maybe if President Grant is in a good mood, he'll toss in a few more million!'
The reporters below were stunned for a long moment. When they finally came to their senses, their cameras began clicking and flashing furiously. They already had tomorrow's headline figured out: *Fourth Wife's Tenacity Proven: Unharmed After Falling Chandelier.*
In reality, she wasn't completely unscathed. Shirley Thorne had leaped too forcefully, the floor was slick, and her heels were high. She didn't land steadily and twisted her ankle.
The reporters were more than happy to capture the richest man's wife looking perfectly fine after her narrow escape from death. For a moment, the atmosphere in the venue was more congenial than a New Year's Eve party.
The only exception was the weaselly-looking reporter. From his expression, you'd think the sky had just fallen.
'The mission failed. He wouldn't get the money, and if Ethan Grant found out, he didn't even have the funds to flee the country.'
At this thought, the reporter shot a few fierce glares in Shirley Thorne's direction before taking advantage of the confusion to slip away dejectedly.
With the chandelier shattered, the press conference naturally couldn't continue. Other than the reporters scrambling to get more footage, no one wanted to stay.
Shirley Thorne certainly didn't. Her ankle was probably already swollen, and if she stayed any longer, the reporters were bound to get a picture of it.
Ethan Grant navigated around the shattered glass on the floor, took off his suit jacket, and draped it over Shirley Thorne. He whispered in her ear, "How are you?"
Shirley Thorne kept a smile on her face, posing for the reporters as she whispered back, "My foot hurts. I can't keep this up much longer."
The moment she finished speaking, she felt the human-shaped refrigerator next to her start up again. The chill made her clutch the suit jacket tighter.
'It was no wonder Ethan Grant was angry. If something had really happened to her, the billionaire's reputation as a wife-jinx would have been set in stone!'
"Endure it. There's medicine at home," Ethan Grant said before scooping her up in his arms. To the reporters' dumbstruck expressions, he strode across the venue and straight for the exit.
Shirley Thorne barely managed to stifle a scream.
She took a deep breath, her heart aflutter with a mix of embarrassment and nervousness.
'This was the first time a man had ever carried her in his arms, and such a handsome one at that. She had to admit, a woman's vanity was surprisingly easy to satisfy.'
A man is most handsome when he's serious. Shirley Thorne tilted her head to look at Ethan Grant. His handsome brows were slightly furrowed, and a hint of anxiety flashed through his pitch-black eyes. The arms holding her were strong and powerful, making her feel incredibly secure.
Looking at Ethan Grant like this, Shirley Thorne felt a daze come over her. 'Is he walking this fast because he's worried about his reputation, or is he worried about my injury?'
Ethan Grant placed her in the back seat of the Lamborghini and ordered the driver, "Back to the villa!"
"Yes, sir," the driver replied.
Behind the car, a pack of tireless reporters was still snapping pictures relentlessly. With a skillful reverse turn, the driver quickly left them in the dust.
Looking in the rearview mirror, Ethan Grant could no longer see any sign of the reporters.
Shirley Thorne's ankle throbbed with pain, making her hiss. She reached down to rub it, and the agony immediately brought tears to her eyes.
'A woman in high heels has it rough!'
"Don't move!"
A cold, domineering voice came from beside her. Shirley Thorne pulled her hand back, looking bewildered.
Ethan Grant's brows were furrowed so tightly you could kill a fly between them. "The doctor is at the villa," he said.
Hearing this, Shirley Thorne relaxed. 'This billionaire might seem cold,' she thought, 'but he's actually quite considerate. He called for a doctor ahead of time.'
However, when they arrived at the villa, it wasn't a doctor who greeted her.
At the entrance of their new villa, before the driver could even bring the car to a full stop, another vehicle cut them off on the driveway.
It was a diamond-studded Audi. From inside, a lady dressed in a cyan qipao emerged.
The woman was fair-faced and carried herself with poise, but her aura was like the prelude to a volcanic eruption. It seemed she was just one spark away from unleashing an earthquake.
Shirley Thorne didn't recognize this person, so she turned to look at Ethan Grant.
Ethan Grant's brow was knitted tightly. He opened the door, got out, and instructed her, "Stay here. Don't move."
"Oh," Shirley Thorne replied obediently.
Through the car window, she watched Ethan Grant walk up to the woman and stand before her in complete silence.
The woman didn't say much either. She simply raised her hand and slapped Ethan Grant across the face, roaring, "You bastard! Kneel!"
Shirley Thorne was so shocked she forgot all about the pain in her foot.
'Who was this woman? How dare she hit Ethan Grant?'
But then, to her utter astonishment, something even more shocking happened. Ethan Grant actually did as the woman said, sinking stiffly to his knees on the ground.
Shirley Thorne's foot completely stopped hurting.