the two-faced Adopted Girl Who Melted CEO's Ice-Cold Heart
Chapter 235: Your deed of sale is still with me, when will you come to be my little maid?

Chapter 235: Chapter 235: Your deed of sale is still with me, when will you come to be my little maid?

Wade Family’s in trouble? Delphine was completely oblivious.

"What happened? How could they be in trouble? Wade Family is considered one of the top elites." Delphine asked in astonishment.

Leah scrutinized her expression carefully, seeing that she truly didn’t know anything. Only then did she unwillingly let out a sneer and say, "Your darling has a vindictive nature. He’s using Wade Family as an example, I guess. I heard Ignatius Leclair even publicly said that any business Wade Family had previously invested in with the Leclair Family would have all their shares withdrawn.

Quite a few families followed suit and divested. No one wants to provoke Ignatius Leclair. In just a few short days, Wade Family’s cash flow chain broke. In a few days, I fear the Wade couple might actually end up banging on coffins at your family’s doorstep."

The Wade couple banging on coffins had become the hottest gossip in town these past days—told as jokes in the upper circles. Leah even heard multiple versions floating around.

Delphine paused for a moment before saying, "The Leclair father and son have been at odds for years. Wade Family aligned themselves with Stone Leclair’s camp. This time, taking advantage of my matter, they wanted to bring down Ignatius Leclair. But with that man from the Shaw Family overseeing the situation, it didn’t work out."

"Someone from the Shaw Family?" Leah asked curiously—it was her first time hearing about this. "An old guy from Imperial City? Your darling really has some skills, pulling in reinforcements like that."

Leah subconsciously imagined some solemn old man—decades of military accolades, a background so deep no one even dared to imagine.

"He’s a close confidant of Ignatius Leclair’s. A pity, really." Delphine didn’t wish to bring up Richard Shaw’s injured leg.

"So it was all stirred up by father-son feuding? I thought it was for you—courageous rage at great injustice." Leah snorted twice and said, "But then again, makes sense. That man wouldn’t suddenly change his ways and start treating you well."

Delphine gave a faint smile, dimples shallow yet charming: "Why do you hate Ignatius Leclair so much?"

"I just think he’s insufferable." Leah thought back to a few meetings with Ignatius Leclair and felt an inexplicable fury brewing inside her. Outwardly, he was said to have a refined gentleman’s demeanor, an aristocratic aura. But in her eyes, everyone must be blind—deep down, he was pure chauvinist, arrogant, self-absorbed, and hadn’t treated little Delphine well enough. Just meeting him made her dislike him.

"Let’s not talk about him—bad vibes. Stay for dinner tonight." Leah coquettishly clung to her arm, pleading.

Though Leah’s exterior projected sultry poise, she had the innocence and whimsy of a young girl when it came to those close to her. Every time she acted spoiled, Delphine couldn’t resist.

"Someone should see what a little rascal you turn into." Delphine smiled gently, the worry that had been etched between her brows recently dissipating.

Just then, the servant’s voice rang out, "Mr. Griffith is back."

Griffith Squire entered clad in a long brown trench coat that fell to his ankles, accentuating his tall and imposing figure. His handsome and resolute face was, as always, unreadable. On spotting Delphine, his peach blossom-shaped eyes smiled, voice low and seductive: "Little Delphine, here to see me?"

When it came to shamelessness, Griffith ranked second—and no one dared claim first.

Delphine hurriedly stood up, her body slightly tense.

Leah shot Griffith a glare and grabbed Delphine’s hand to make her sit back down.

The smile in Griffith’s eyes grew deeper. Truly, she was like a frightened little bunny around him—tensing up and not daring to move at the sight of him. Back then, he hadn’t done anything to her; he merely enjoyed scaring her every now and then.

Griffith shrugged off his coat and had his accompanying trusted aides leave the room. Smiling leisurely, he sat on the opposite sofa.

The man stroked his angular chin, his peach blossom eyes glinting flirtatiously as he deliberately dropped into a rich, velvet voice, teasing the little bunny: "I remember your contract of servitude is still with me. When are you going to come be my little maid?"