The Divorced Heiress’s Revenge

The grand and imposing gates swung open with deliberate grace, allowing the car to proceed unhurriedly toward a medieval European-style castle.

Once the car stopped, Jace and Clarice stepped out first. Soon after, Grant emerged from the car, his long legs carrying him to the ground with an effortless poise.

His sharp, refined features bore no trace of emotion, but his dark eyes exuded an intense chill with a sharpness enough to unsettle anyone.

His stride was steady and confident, similar to Justin's. Just before he got out of the car, he had Clarice inject a dose of adrenaline newly developed by RC Biotech. He wanted to present himself not as a fragile patient but as a man of commanding presence, one worthy of standing before that man.

"This is a private residence. Please halt here." Outside the door of the castle, armed guards in immaculate suits and white gloves blocked their way.

Grant's gaze turned icy, his lips curling into a faint smirk. With a graceful motion, his slender, pale hand reached into his jacket, producing a card. The gold-trimmed card, held delicately between his fingers, gleamed as he extended it toward the guards.

The guards glanced at it, their expressions shifting instantly to alarm. Without hesitation, they both bowed deeply at a perfect ninety-degree angle. "Esteemed guest, please forgive our lack of hospitality. This way, sir!"

closely behind Grant, her confidence soared. It was not every day that

glance at the card in Grant's hand. What she saw left her stunned --it

displayed the face of

led the trio into

at the opulent surroundings. Every corner of the castle exuded luxury beyond her comprehension. She marveled at the extravagant decor, though she worked hard to mask her awe, determined not to

Shannon without restriction. Later, under Grant's employment, she had seen the grandeur of his mansion in Meridan-an

she felt her past experiences paled in comparison. The artworks, paintings, and antiques scattered throughout the castle shimmered under the dim lighting, each exuding

any longer, she leaned closer to Grant.

at her, Grant answered coldly, his voice as frigid as a winter wind. "The

of the "King's Club" from foreign dignitaries and elites. Supposedly, mere wealth was not enough to