Free Web NovelChapter 390: Chapter 387: I’ll Make Her 18 Generations of Ancestors Crawl Out of Their Graves to Kneel to My Mommy
BANG! The sudden gunshot stunned everyone.
The bullet hit Catherine Callahan squarely in the stomach.
She screamed, pointing at him in terror. Clutching the wound, her face twisted in agony as she cried out frantically to Mrs. Grant, "Godmother, quick, stop him!"
Looking down, she saw her stomach was already stained red with blood.
Mr. Grant never imagined the boy would have a gun.
He was shocked too, but with a life on the line, he immediately called for the family doctor to come remove the bullet from Catherine Callahan.
When Mrs. Grant came to her senses, she rushed to snatch the gun from Dylan Grant.
But when he pointed the gun at her, she lost her nerve and didn’t dare try to take it.
Instead, she shot a furious, exasperated glare at Nora Ainsworth.
"Get that gun back from your son right now!"
Nora Ainsworth was perfectly calm. "My son doesn’t just randomly hurt people, provided they’re friendly."
Mrs. Grant was livid. "He’s just a child! Nora Ainsworth, what were you thinking, giving him a gun? Are you trying to let these two boys be ruined by your own hand?"
"I wasn’t thinking much of anything. It’s just that when you can’t seem to get rid of a pest like Catherine Callahan, you have to protect yourself. My children are well-mannered. They won’t hurt anyone who doesn’t provoke them first. But if someone refuses to back down, time and again, then that’s a different story."
Nora Ainsworth calmly said to her two boys, "It’s getting late. Go find a room upstairs and go to sleep."
The two boys nodded. "Good night, Daddy, Mommy."
Quentin Grant gave them a small smile. "Go on."
He hadn’t expected Dylan Grant to open fire either, but he wasn’t surprised. ’My two sons,’ he thought, ’will definitely be more capable than me when they grow up.’
"Stop!" Mrs. Grant was clearly not ready to let this go. ’If I say the wrong thing in the future,’ she worried, ’the consequences...’
"Is there something else, Grandma?" Dylan Grant turned back, clearly displeased, tilting his head up to look at her.
"Be a good boy and give the gun to Grandma. Children shouldn’t handle such dangerous things."
Dylan Grant clenched his fist, his inner fury blazing. "Grandma, I don’t think it’s dangerous at all. This is a first warning. Next time, it won’t be this simple. I’m genuinely worried I might just blow her head off next time I see her."
"Why must you be so disobedient? Your older brother is so well-behaved. Look at you, threatening people at your age."
He corrected her with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. "Excuse me, Grandma. He’s my younger brother, not my older one."
Mrs. Grant continued awkwardly, "That’s what I’m saying. Your younger brother is so obedient. As the older brother, how can you set such a—."
Before she could finish, Mrs. Grant was about to faint from rage.
Because Elmer Grant was now also holding a handgun, casually tossing it from one palm to the other.
"Grandma, it’s lucky my brother acted so fast. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have shot her in the stomach—I would have aimed for her heart. She’s definitely not the first person to bully our mommy in front of us, but she is the first to do it so blatantly, right in front of our daddy. My brother was right! This was letting her off easy. If there’s a next time, I’ll make eighteen generations of her ancestors crawl out of their graves and kneel to my mommy!"
Mr. Grant tried to smooth things over. "That’s enough. The children just got home, don’t make such a fuss. Boys, go on upstairs and rest."
Dylan Grant went and took Nora Ainsworth’s hand. "Mommy, my brother and I were just so scared. Our little hearts are hurting. Can you come sleep with us upstairs, pleeease?"
The corner of Nora Ainsworth’s mouth twitched. She glanced at Quentin Grant. "Let’s just go back to our own home."
She really didn’t want to stay here.
Quentin Grant nodded. "We’ll go back to my house..."
Mr. Grant frowned. "Quentin, it will be so inconvenient for me to see my grandsons if you leave. Just stay here. We have plenty of rooms in this house."
"I’d rather not, Dad. It’s too stressful here. I won’t move in unless Catherine Callahan moves out. Besides, my place is safer."
Mr. Grant thought for a moment, then shot a fierce glare at his wife before reluctantly agreeing.
The family of four got in the car and headed back.
Only Mr. and Mrs. Grant were left in the living room.
Mr. Grant’s pent-up anger instantly erupted.
"If it wasn’t for you, would Nora have had to hide abroad while she was pregnant? You suppressed her here at home, and now that she’s finally back, you’re still trying to drive her away, aren’t you?"
Mrs. Grant leaned back on the sofa with her arms crossed. "She can go wherever she pleases. As long as the children stay, that’s all that matters."
"Hmph." Mr. Grant thought she had lost her mind. "Without their real mother, do you think those two boys would just stay here quietly? I think it’s a good thing they know how to protect themselves at such a young age. If you don’t learn to control that temper of yours, you’re the one who’s going to pay the price."
"I just don’t like Nora Ainsworth. Even after giving birth to two sons, I still don’t like her."
"All that matters is that your son likes her," Mr. Grant said. "She’s going to be living her life with him, not you. What good does it do for you to dislike her?"
"Oh? Why are you defending her so much tonight? What’s the matter? Has she bewitched you?"
Mr. Grant found her utterly unreasonable. "You’ve always had a talent for spouting nonsense. After all these years of marriage, of you constantly holding me down, I’ve had enough. If it weren’t for the children and our family’s reputation, do you really think you’d still be The Grant Matriarch?"
With that, he returned to the bedroom.
Mrs. Grant slowly got to her feet, the words finally sinking in.
"You make yourself clear! What did you mean by that?!" she yelled, chasing after him.
Mr. Grant entered the bedroom and locked the door from the inside. Mrs. Grant pounded on the door, but he refused to open it.
Finally, she found the spare key and opened the door.
She stormed in and ripped the covers off him. "Feeling bold now, are we? Are you trying to divorce me?"
Mr. Grant couldn’t be bothered to deal with her, rolling over to go back to sleep.
This only made Mrs. Grant even more agitated.
"Get up!" She grabbed his arm.
But he continued to ignore her, which only made her push things further.
Finally, unable to stand her nagging any longer, Mr. Grant bolted upright. He stared at her, pointing a finger in her face. "Let me tell you something. Stop bothering me. You’ve been like this since the day I met you. It’s not that modern women are unreasonable; it’s that an unreasonable woman has simply grown old! And you’re right—I’ve wanted to divorce you for more than just a day or two!"
His words struck Mrs. Grant like a physical blow.
"What did I say that was so wrong? That child is so young, and he just picked up a gun and shot Catherine! How was I wrong? What did I do wrong?"
"You said plenty of wrong things, but your biggest mistake tonight was this: this afternoon, I specifically told you to arrange for her to leave, that she was not to stay in the Grant Residence. Why didn’t you listen? You know full well all the vicious things Catherine has done to Nora in the past, so what were you trying to accomplish by letting them meet?"
"I wasn’t trying to accomplish anything," Mrs. Grant flatly denied. "What could I possibly have been trying to do?"
