Cannot Bear To Let Go Of My Rich Wife
Chapter 411 - 427: You’re Investigating Me? (9)

Chapter 411: Chapter 427: You’re Investigating Me? (9)

Percy Stanton’s anger grew as he read the nonsensical replies from strangers on his mobile phone, and he couldn’t help but scoff, "What the hell is all this crap?!"

Percy was a person of quality, and he rarely used swear words. So faced with these low-quality, indiscriminate online replies, his first thought was to address them reasonably. He directly shared the post and commented: "I am an insider who can testify that Miss Isabel Smith has no relations with Mr. Joseph Wood, and the slap Mrs. Wood gave Miss Smith was completely unreasonable. An apology is due."

Percy’s polite reply was soon shared by Joseph Wood’s legal wife, and then, unsurprisingly, Percy was once again bombarded with even nastier comments.

Looking at those replies, Percy wondered why there were so many unreasonable people online.

When he saw a comment that directly insulted and personally attacked Isabel, his anger reached its peak. He stood up from his rattan chair, held his phone, and replied to the person: "You just wait, I’ll find out who you are in minutes and send you to jail!"

As he replied, Percy thought about noting down the person’s ID so that he could really investigate who they were.

Just as he finished typing his comment and was about to reply, suddenly, a notification appeared: "Sorry, the topic you are discussing no longer exists."

Percy thought it was a problem with his mobile phone’s signal, so he refreshed the page, but the same situation persisted. Irritated, he returned to the previous page and searched for Joseph Wood, only to find nothing.

As he was confused, his phone suddenly rang. It was his assistant. Percy answered irritably, listening to the assistant on the other end of the call, who said respectfully: "Mr. Stanton, as per your instructions, everything has been taken care of. All the posts related to Isabel Smith and Joseph Wood have been deleted, and some users who left vicious comments have been blocked."

Percy had completely forgotten that he had been the one to give those instructions. All he could think about was not being able to reply to that extremely offensive post about Isabel, so he angrily yelled, "Who asked you to meddle and block this information?!"

His assistant, on the other side of the call, was left breathless after being yelled at, and after a while, he finally spoke cautiously, saying: "It was you, Mr. Stanton, who gave the order!"

Percy was at a loss for words, feeling even more suffocated. He snorted coldly and hung up the phone with a "click."

He felt like there was a ball of fire burning in his heart. He knew he was genuinely angry; he had agreed not to care about that woman, but he always ended up empathizing with her more than anyone else.

Seeing those insulting words on the posts directed at Isabel, he felt as if the insults were directed at him, and it was unbearable.

Wasn’t it his own fault, after all?

Isabel was his heart’s desire, and now that his heart’s desire had been verbally abused like this, how could he feel alright?

Percy frowned, unable to help himself from picking up his phone and reopening Facebook. He knew that the Thompson Empire Group worked efficiently, but he still couldn’t help but search for Joseph Wood’s legal wife again. As expected, there were still no results.

Percy felt suffocated and gritted his teeth. Unable to bear it any longer, he raised his hand and violently smashed it against the balcony railing. His flesh and blood collided with the sturdy white jade railing, causing his knuckles to bleed. Yet he still felt unsatisfied, so he lifted his foot and kicked the flower pot, breaking the rattan chair in the process. Finally, he angrily threw his phone off the balcony with a clenched jaw.

The mobile phone traced a perfect parabola, hitting the wishing pool girl’s head on the ground floor fountain, then bouncing off and falling heavily into the water, splashing a large spray.

Percy Stanton paced restlessly on the balcony, but the anger in his heart still did not dissipate. He finally turned back to the bedroom, took his car keys, went downstairs angrily, fetched his car, and drove directly to the "Royal Palace."

John Quincy was hosting a gathering at the "Royal Palace" that night. When Percy arrived, John and a few others had already enjoyed several drinks together, lounging on the soft sand and chatting lazily.

Percy pushed the door to the private booth. Without saying much, he sat down next to John with a hint of frustration, picked up a clean crystal cup, added some ice cubes, filled it with whiskey, and drank it all in one go without making a fuss.

The cold, stimulating liquid rolled down his throat, slightly easing the blazing anger in Percy’s chest.

John raised his hand, one on Percy’s shoulder, the other pouring more whiskey for Percy. "Little Marion, I called you out to play this afternoon. You said you wouldn’t, so why did you come now?"

Percy curled his lips, lightly laughed twice, clinked his cup with John’s, drank the wine, then took the bottle and filled his cup again, continuing to drink another cup.

After three consecutive cups, Percy’s tense mood slightly loosened. He reclined lazily on the sofa, idly playing with the purple crystal cup in his hand, listening to the nonsense talk of others while remaining silent, only occasionally picking up the cup and downing drinks for himself.

From time to time, someone tried to engage Percy in conversation, but he seemed somewhat preoccupied. He thought about Isabel in Bellshire City now, how she was dealing with such gossip.

As he thought about it, the wine he had just drunk made him feel slightly queasy.

He raised his hand, took out a cigarette from his pocket, and lit it with a match. He failed several times before John finally moved closer and lit it for him with the cigarette in his mouth.

Percy closed his eyes, leaned against the sofa, slowly inhaling, exhaling a beautiful smoke ring. He looked up, watched the smoke swirl and gradually dissipate. Deep down, he felt a lingering ache like something was missing. After a while, he felt a sudden pain in his fingertip. Looking down, the cigarette had burned to his finger. He quickly raised his hand, extinguished the cigarette in the ashtray, rubbed the burn on his finger, and leaned toward the seated John Quincy, asking, "John, have you ever met someone you’ve tried countless times to let go, but can’t help but hold on to in the end?"

John paused for a moment, thinking of the proud, queen-like Charlotte Thompson, then laughed softly and said, "No."

"I have..." Percy stared at the wine glass on the table filled with red liquid, reflecting an amber glow under the colorful lights, his eyes becoming somewhat lost. "All this time, I’ve been deceiving myself that I’m happy, but now I realize that I can deceive others, but I can’t deceive my own heart. I am not happy after leaving Bellshire."

"Is it Bellshire or the girl you met there?"

"Is there a difference?" Percy softly retorted, and then said, "To me, Bellshire is nothing more than her."

John didn’t respond; he just refilled Percy’s glass.