Isabelle's tears fell heavily. "Michael, look, she's always like this. She hurts people without realizing it and pretends to be innocent."
Michael looked at Isabelle's wound and recalled the message the assistant had relayed to him, his frown deepening.
Isabelle was the only daughter of the Richardson family. The last time Molly blamed her, the Richardsons had prepared to sue Molly over the words on it.
As for this wound, it would likely leave a scar, and the Richardson family wouldn't let the matter rest easily.
He turned to Molly, his gaze growing colder, saying, "Apologize."
"What did you say?"
Apologize?
Molly couldn't believe what she was hearing. "It was her who bumped into it..."
"If you hadn't dodged, she wouldn't have crushed into the fish tank." Michael frowned, as if he couldn't understand her unreasonable behavior.
So he saw it.
Should she have not dodged and let Isabelle bully her instead?
This was blatant favoritism.
Molly's heart trembled violently as her gaze gradually shifted toward Michael. For the first time, his handsome face seemed utterly unfamiliar and terrifying.
She looked at him as if he were an executioner. "What if I don't apologize?"
"Then you'll never leave the Gallagher family house again." Michael's tone was cold, as if he were stating a plain fact.
His words held two meanings.
One was that she couldn't escape the marriage, and life would be worse than death. The other was that she would face eternal retaliation from the Gallagher family.
Michael Gallagher, I never imagine you can be so ruthless.
Molly felt as if a gaping hole had been torn through her heart, with every breath bringing a rush of cold, searing pain.
She truly couldn't resist the power of the Gallagher and Richardson families.
After all, she was just an orphan, wasn't she?
Her eyes reddened, and she stared resolutely at Michael.
"Fine, I apologize."
She suddenly laughed.
Laughing and crying, tears streamed down her face.
"Isabelle, I'm sorry."
Grandma, I'm sorry. I'm incompetent and have caused your death.
Grandma, I'm sorry. I will seek justice for you.
With every word of apology, it felt like a steel knife piercing her insides.
Only such dull pain could sober her up.
Molly, you can't cry! You can't cry in front of these scumbags!
She bit her lip hard and fought to hold back the tears.
Unable to stay any longer, she turned and stumbled away. Just then, someone walked in from outside.
"Miss Walker."
It was a gently-faced caregiver in uniform.
"You said she saw Isabelle cause your grandma's death, didn't you?" Michael's voice came from behind her, cold as an icy pool and piercing to the heart. "Let's confront her face to face."
What did this mean?
Was he really willing to give her grandma justice?
Holly's heart raced wildly.
"Will you believe her words?" She asked Michael.
If he was willing to believe the caregiver's words, there was a chance for her grandma to get justice.
Michael didn't respond to her. Instead, he turned to the caregiver and asked, "Was it you who said Isabelle caused my grandma's death?"
The air fell silent. One could hear a pin drop.
Molly could hear her own heartbeat—thump, thump, thump—like it was about to leap out of her throat.
She looked at the equally nervous caregiver and gently reassured her, "Don't be afraid, just repeat what you told me before."
Encouraged, the caregiver took a deep breath, her face flushed. "No, I never said that."
With a click, Molly Walker's heart sank to the bottom.
"You clearly said last time that when Isabelle Richardson left, my grandma fell. Why are you changing your story now?"
"Miss Walker, I never said such a thing. There's no 'changing my story.'"
Isabelle's smugness, Michael Gallagher's indifference, and the caregiver's words felt like a basin of cold water, drenching her completely.
"Did someone threaten you?" Molly struggled to stay calm.
The caregiver shook her head with a mournful expression, "No one threatened me, Miss Walker. Please don't force me to accuse Miss Richardson, I can't do such a thing against my conscience. I can't afford to offend the Richardson family, please let me go, Miss Walker..."
The caregiver bowed deeply to her.
Molly suddenly felt a chill spread from her feet to her thighs and from her fingers to her shoulder blades.
She stared at the caregiver until her eyes grew sore, but the woman only dodged her gaze and fell silent.
The caregiver clearly had no intention of telling the truth anymore.
No wonder Isabelle and Michael felt bold enough to confront her with the caregiver by their side. They had already set a trap, waiting for her to step into it.
Molly looked at Michael with red-rimmed eyes. "Is this the result you wanted?"
Now, due to the caregiver's betrayal, she had one less piece of evidence to accuse Isabelle.
"You must have paid quite a bit of hush money."
Molly's words frightened the caregiver so much that her legs went weak, nearly causing her to kneel.
"Miss Walker, you must speak with a conscience. I didn't take any money. On the contrary, don't force me to falsely accuse Miss Richardson anymore."
"Molly, are you planning to extort a confession by torture?" Isabelle hissed from the side, shaking with anger.
At that moment, Doctor Leaford entered and quickly bandaged Isabelle and Michael.
Molly realized that staying here was pointless.
She looked at the caregiver and saw her shameless face, a rough guess forming in her mind.
Money could make the devil go away; how much more so for the Richardson family, which ranked among the top five in the city?
It was human nature to curry favor with the powerful and avoid danger.
She didn't blame the caregiver for choosing Isabelle. She only blamed herself for feeling isolated and powerless.
But people couldn't remain at a low point forever.
The Richardson family couldn't stay on top indefinitely, either.
Molly suddenly straightened her back and strode away with purpose.
As she watched her retreating figure, Isabelle felt an inexplicable sense of unease.
A thought flashed through her mind: "a person is most terrifying when they have nothing because they have nothing to lose."
The outdoor sunlight was dazzling; even on this early winter day, it felt hotter than summer.
Outside the villa, a bright Lamborghini sports car was parked.
"Molly!" The man in the car suddenly waved at her. When he saw her unresponsive, he got out and walked toward her.
The man had stunning features, including a diamond earring which was very eye-catching.
"Remember me?" Fearing she forgot him, he emphasized with a laugh, "I'm Joshua Thompson."
Molly pursed her lips in silence. Of course, she recognized that this was the man from the bar.
Not wanting to get involved with him, Molly smiled slightly and walked to the side.
Joshua seemed to know what she was thinking and followed her closely.
"I know you don't like Isabelle and I hate her too. How about we join hands?"
Molly stopped in her tracks, "Join hands?"
As expected, she was very concerned about Isabelle.
Joshua's smile reached the bottom of his eyes, "I found out that Isabelle has been looking for a lawyer recently, trying to sue you for defamation and false accusation. Even if you meet her in court, with the Richardson family's methods, you'll most likely be the one going to prison."
His words made Molly's heart sink.
Laws required evidence. Now she didn't have any solid evidence to counterattack Isabelle, but Isabelle could use the Richardson family's money and power to make her suffer.
Fighting a lawsuit and gathering evidence required money and connections—two things she lacked most at that moment.
She looked at Joshua. Under his earnest gaze, she asked hoarsely, "What do you, the third son from the Thompson family want in exchange for cooperation?"