The Divorced Heiress’s Revenge

"What happened, Quentin? What's wrong with Dad?" Bella sat by the sofa and held her father's cold hand, her heart going out to
him.
"I'm fine, Bella." Wyatt pulled himself together to smile at his daughter.
Panic stirred within Bella. "You're fine? You're whiter than Casper the Friendly Ghost!"
The three men were lost for words.
The tension in the air somehow dissolved into something comical.
Bella asked indignantly, "Why was Christopher here? Did he get you worked up?"
Wyatt and Quentin said nothing.
"I saw Christopher holding a box, Chairman Thompson. Did you threaten you with a drug?" Justin's eyes flickered.
Quentin murmured, "Mr. Iverson brought a drug and said Chairman Thompson was able to get better because of him. He came
to set up a deal with Chairman Thompson. If Chairman Thompson agrees to his terms, he can guarantee a supply of drugs.
Chairman Thompson isn't quite himself yet, and Mr. Iverson's aggression only rubbed him the wrong way. Chairman Thompson
took his medicine in time, and he's feeling better now."
Bella asked, "What are the terms?"
Wyatt glared at Quentin.
Quentin made things vague. "He talked about a partnership. The terms do not matter. The thing is his arrogance. His ugly
attitude is showing."
Bella squeezed her father's hand. "Justin and I ran into him just now, Dad. He acted innocently with us. Don't be scared. We'll
sort out the drug. Don't listen to him. If he can acquire the drug, so can we." The sight of his daughter's angry and adorable face
made Wyatt forget all the pain.
It was true that he wanted to live a few more days for Bella's sake.
Justin drew a deep breath and said, "I need to step out to make a phone call. I'll be right back."

In the basement parking lot, Christopher, with Taylor in tow, walked grimly to his ride.
"Mr. Iverson, Wyatt sure acts like he's above us."
Behind Christopher, Taylor whined, "He can't hang on much longer. Yet he doesn't want to accept your grace. Hmph! It's only a
matter of time before he comes crawling back to you."
"It's alright. Even if he doesn't beg me, I don't want to take advantage of an old man on his deathbed.
Christopher smirked. "Besides, it makes no difference whether he takes the drug. He's just experiencing different levels of pain."
"Christopher."
A husky, stern voice boomed.
Christopher stopped and looked back.
Justin stood proudly a few steps away from him, his eyes burning with rage.