Chapter 813: Scheming

Ethan Hawthorne’s face hardened as he issued a dark warning. “Don’t be too greedy, Bernice!”

“I just want what I’m owed,” Bernice demanded. “I don’t want your money. Give me the two properties on Varden Road and Morson Road, and we’ll go our separate ways. We’ll never cross paths again!”

She knew perfectly well that Ethan couldn’t produce any cash right now, nor did she want it. Real estate was far more valuable. With those houses and her remaining savings, staging a comeback would be easy using her connections down in Capria. She could live a lavish life perfectly fine without him.

Ethan laughed aloud, staring at her as if she were completely out of her mind. Those properties on Varden Road and Morson Road were the largest and most valuable assets he currently owned. This woman had an enormous appetite, and she was clearly delusional.

“If you’re sick in the head, go take your medicine. Who the hell do you think you are to demand my houses? So what if you slept with me for five years? The money I’ve given you is more than enough to buy the highest-class escort. Get out!”

He was done dragging this out. He needed this woman gone immediately so he could hire a cleaner to scrub every trace of her from his home. Just the sight of her made him sick to his stomach.

“I’ve done too much for you! Don’t think you can brush me off with pocket change,” she shrieked. “You will give me those two houses, or I’m reporting your black market profiteering to the authorities! I’ll have you sent to a labor camp!”

Bernice was completely unhinged now. Every last thread of her affection for Ethan had snapped.

Ethan stared at her coldly, saying nothing. Mistaking his silence for fear, a smug expression crept onto her face. “Buying Pax with two houses is a great bargain. Just transfer the deeds to me, and Jacqueline and I will leave immediately. You’ll never see us again.”

“Go ahead and report me. Do you need a ride?” Ethan laughed in exasperation. He had severely overestimated her intelligence. How had he never noticed how hopelessly stupid and full of herself this woman was?

The color drained from Bernice’s face. Why wasn’t he terrified?

“You think I won’t do it? I have the receipts and ledgers from your dealings with Boss Mad! The moment I hand those over, Ethan, all your assets will be confiscated and you will go to prison. Try me!”

“Be my guest. Go right now. But let me remind you of one little detail,” Ethan mocked. “The name on all those receipts is yours, Bernice. You were the one who went to Boss Mad to pick up the goods. I don’t know any ‘Boss Mad,’ and I certainly don’t know anything about illegal profiteering.”

He leaned back on the sofa, his expression dripping with disdain. He had taken precautions against this five years ago; that was the only reason he had partnered with her in the first place. Bernice was the sole public face for their operations down in Capria, while he merely handled the sales. Even if the authorities investigated, she would be the one taking the fall. It had absolutely nothing to do with him.

Bernice stood frozen like a wooden post, struck dumb by his revelation. For a long time, she couldn’t process the reality of her situation. Then, his past whispers echoed in her ears.

“We’ll divide the work. You handle the supply from Boss Mad, and I’ll handle the sales. A united couple can conquer anything.”

“Don’t worry. If anyone looks into this, they’ll arrest me. You’re just my assistant. I could never bear to see you suffer!”

It wasn’t that she had been careless, but his sweet nothings had been too intoxicating. He had coaxed her into believing every lie, making her a willing pawn. She had even felt a smug sense of pride over it, reveling in the fact that everyone in Capria assumed she was Mrs. Hawthorne, granting her the authority to manage everything.

“You… you were using me from the very beginning?” Bernice asked through gritted teeth.

Ethan merely smirked. “We both got what we wanted. You should be thanking me for still caring about our history, Bernice. Otherwise, black market trading is a crime that usually ends in front of a firing squad.”