Chapter 403
The Bishop Manor was vast, and demolishing it was hard work. But Penelope was tireless. She moved from the dining room to the living room, from the first floor to the second, smashing everything in her path. Still not satisfied, she went to the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of soy sauce, and splashed it all over the walls. She took bottles of red wine from the cellar and poured them over the sofas. Finally, she grabbed toilet bowl cleaner from a bathroom and flung it at the stunned family, spattering their clothes and faces.
“She’s insane! Completely insane!”
The Bishops trembled with fury, but as long as Hans remained still, they dared not
move.
Having vented some of her rage, Penelope spotted a large family portrait on the living room wall. She picked up a chair and hurled it.
With a loud crack, the portrait crashed to the floor, shattering into a thousand pieces.
She surveyed her handiwork with a grim sense of satisfaction and took out her phone to snap a few more pictures.
“Penelope, you will pay for what you have done today,” Hans said, his voice dangerously low.
Penelope shrugged. “I was just about to say the same thing to you. To all of you. Not a single one of you will escape this. I’ll be coming for you, one by one.”
With that, she took a long, deep breath and walked out.
“Ms. Laurier! Ms. Laurier!”
Donald chased after her. “I’m so sorry. I am truly sorry. I never imagined it would turn out like this!”
Penelope looked at him. She had seen him try to protect her, to hold them back. But he wasn’t strong enough. Just like he hadn’t been strong enough to protect her mother all those years ago. If she, with the powerful title of Mrs. Stapleton, could be brutalized like this, she could only imagine the humiliation her mother, an orphan with no one to defend her, must have endured.
“I will not forgive them,” she said coldly.
“Ms. Laurier, do whatever you must. Take your revenge on me. I can bear the full force of your anger!”
“I won’t take it out on you. Just don’t stand in my way.”
“Ms. Laurier…”
“I truly pity your weakness, Mr. Bishop. You failed Edith.”
At the mention of Edith, Donald’s face filled with guilt, but then a look of confusion crossed his features.
“Do you… do you know Edith? Or are you related to her somehow?”
It was the only explanation for why she would defend Edith so fiercely, especially today.
Penelope had considered telling him the truth, but in that moment, she changed her mind. She wanted nothing to do with the Bishops. They disgusted her.
“I wish you the best of luck with your exhibition.”
With that, she walked away.
It wasn’t until she was back in her car that she felt the burning sting on her face and the throbbing pain all over her body. That man, Hans, had sat on his throne for so long he truly believed he had the power oflife and death over others. She would make it painfully clear to him that he was nothing.
She didn’t go back to the Johnson estate. Instead, she drove directly to Theodore’s townhouse in the city center.
When she walked in, Theodore was on the phone.
“You’re telling me my wife demolished your house?”
“And she hit Yvonne?”
“There must have been a reason.”
Penelope knew it had to be Hans, calling to spin his version of the story before she could get home. She let out a frustrated huff and strode over to Theodore.
He was lounging on the sofa, one leg crossed over the other. Seeing her, he uncrossed his legs and pulled her into his lap. The movement tugged at a cut on her arm, and she winced in pain.
Theodore’s demeanor changed in an instant. He looked up, his eyes first landing on the red handprint on her cheek. His gaze turned glacial. He w gently pushed up her sleeve, revealing the angry purple welts left by the belt, then checked her other arm, finding several more.
His expression was dark, his eyes filled with a terrifying fury.
“You hit my wife?” he asked, his voice laced with ice.
“She hit Yvonne first,” Hans’ voice crackled through the phone. “As much as it pained me, I was willing to let it go out of respect for the Stapleton family and because she’s a junior. But then she went on a rampage and destroyed our home. You’ve seen the photos sent you. Even a vengeful enemy wouldn’t have been so thorough. I tried to reason with her, but she wouldn’t listen. Only then, in a fit of anger, did I lay a hand on her. It was simply to teach her some discipline. I didn’t use much force.”