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Chapter_782
Kaitlyn had no talent for the arts of ancient warrior lineage. She could barely protect herself under
the watchful eyes of her peers, and now she was the most relaxed among them. “I don’t really pay
attention! I follow Vivienne’s lead!”
Vivienne’s smile grew even brighter. “It’s just a couple of urns of ashes. If you want to smash them,
go ahead. I just hope Mr. Grimshaw and Gavin don’t live to regret it!”
With that, Vivienne turned to Leopold. “Let’s bounce, Leopold!”
“What?”
As Gavin and Asher gaped in shock, Leopold ripped off the latex mask from his face, his smile wild .
“You got it, Vivienne!”
“Not good!” Asher’s keen eyes spotted the red cartridge in his hand. Breaking free from Vivienne’s
clutches, he dashed forward, intent on stopping him.
“Gavin, are you out of your mind?” As he charged ahead, he didn’t forget to glance at Gavin,
frowning and lost in thought. “If Miss Hawthorn doesn’t give a damn about the peace of her friends’
parents after death, why should we care? Stuff like ashes, better to scatter them to the winds!”
“You’re right.”
Vivienne’s fingers flashed with a cold gleam, and a sharp silver needle plunged into Asher’s
acupoint as he was caught off guard. “Ashes, indeed, are better scattered.”
“Ugh…” The pain was like being torn apart, forcing Asher to his knees.
Vivienne didn’t think it was enough, stomping hard on his shoulder. “Especially for a man like Mr.
Grimshaw. Perfect for grinding to dust!”
“Asher!” Gavin’s grip on the urn tightened. He might not respect Asher, but he couldn’t let him be
harmed on his watch!
“Freeze!”
A dagger with a cold glint was pressed against Asher’s throat, the blade cutting through his skin,
with blood dripping down the silver edge onto the ground.
Gavin’s eyes bulged as he raised the urn higher. “Vivienne, stop! If you dare hurt Asher, the
Grimshaws won’t let you off!”
Sweat rolled down Asher’s forehead, the pain causing his eyes to roll back. As sweat trickled down
his neck onto the wound, the stinging pain tormented his nerves, but he had to muster his strength.
“Let them go!”
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His angry voice was laced with an indistinct resentment. His gaze, heavy as a specter at midnight,
struggled to focus on Vivienne.
She seemed unphased, even smiling down at Asher. “Mr. Grimshaw, you’re quite the sport.”
With that, Vivienne glanced at Asher’s bodyguards. “What’s up? Doesn’t your young master’s word
count for anything?”
The Grimshaw bodyguards exchanged looks. With their young master in someone else’s grip, they
dared not make a move.
Their weapons clattered to the ground with a series of crisp sounds.
Vivienne dragged Asher step by step out of the factory, only to be interrupted by the screech of
brakes.
Gavin looked up to see a stranger in black, rolling down his car window. His gaze was fixed solely
on Vivienne. “Ma’am, get in!”
Several SUVs were parked at the entrance, and Vivienne, seeing this, was in no hurry.
After an exchange of glances with Leopold, who was protecting Kaitlyn in the middle, they led the
others away.
Once everyone was in the cars and the doors were shut, Vivienne slowly removed the dagger from
Asher’s throat. Then, with a sharp knee to the man’s lower back, she snapped, “Scram, you waste!”
“Vivienne… I will have your head!”
The roar was lost in the roar of the cars speeding away and the sound of the urn shattering. The
dust kicked up choked everyone, causing them to cough incessantly.
Gavin covered his nose and mouth, retreating as he looked at the white spread on the ground, his
heart pounding violently.
An indescribable discomfort welled up within him, as if a heavy stone weighed on his chest, his
body trembling involuntarily, as though he’d been plunged into an ice cellar.
Asher, clutching his chest, watched as the medic pulled the silver needle from his acupoint, the
trembling and urge to faint slowly subsiding.
He frowned, swearing non-stop. His eyes, bloodshot, glanced at Gavin standing to the side, his
mood plummeting. “What are you waiting for? Get moving, or do you expect me to help you? What
a waste! Can’t even handle a young girl, and she leads you by the nose!”
He seemed to forget his recent beating at Vivienne’s hands as he ranted, “I don’t know how the
Abernathys ever put you in charge, you useless trash!”
Gavin’s chaotic thoughts were abruptly interrupted. His fists clenched tightly, his cracked lips taut.
His cold gaze lingered on Asher for only a moment before his expression changed. He didn’t reply,
simply following Asher out of the factory.
Stepping onto the solid ground outside, he couldn’t help but look back.
Why?
Why did he feel this inexplicable unease?
“Sir! Bad news, something’s happened at the cemetery!”
Just as he stepped through the Abernathy gates, the disciple responsible for guarding the
Abernathy Graveyard came tumbling over, rolling in the mud without care, collapsing at Gavin’s feet.
His face was a mess of snot and blood, his forehead swollen and bleeding, looking utterly frightful.
Gavin’s heart skipped a beat, the unease growing. “What happened?”
“The old lady’s grave, it’s been… been dug up!”
With a thud, the kneeling man was sent flying, coughing up blood, rolling his eyes back, and
collapsing without a breath.
Yet, no one cared for his life or death, as the Abernathy butler rushed over. He gestured for the
servants to take the grave keeper away and cautiously stood ten meters from Gavin. “Sir, we’ve
sent people to look. I believe it won’t be long before…”
“Sir! Where are you going?”
Before he could finish, Gavin shot off like an arrow released from its bow.
The car that had dropped Gavin off hadn’t even pulled away when he yanked open the door and
leaped inside. “Back to that factory, and step on it!”
“Sir!”
The butler chased after him, taking a couple of hurried steps. The stench of exhaust fumes hit him
square in the face, forcing him to come to a halt.
Asher, supported by someone’s arm, walked over and caught sight of the butler, frozen in place,
unsure whether to follow or return.
He couldn’t help but let out a spiteful chuckle. “I knew it. That little witch Vivienne didn’t give a damn
about those two urns of ashes for a reason. They were switched. Hah, Gavin, never thought you’d
see the day, huh?”
Wait a second!
Realization struck, and Asher’s smile stiffened. “How many urns of ashes did you just say your
family has missed?”
“Just one,” the butler replied, shrinking under Asher’s suddenly fierce glare.
Mindful of Asher’s status, the butler stammered, not daring to show any disrespect. “It’s our late
madam’s grave. Woke up one morning, and it was empty, just like that.”
“What’s in the other urn then?” Asher pressed.
The butler’s eyes glazed over in confusion. “I—I don’t…”
How could he possibly know that? Asher was asking the impossible.
