?Chapter 847:


    “No!” Elissa cried, her eyes wide with dread. “I’m not going anywhere!”


    “Sir, please stop!” The housekeeper, rmed, barred the doorway. “She’s your wife, but that doesn’t give you the right to drag her off against her will!”


    “Oh, really?” Robin shot a nce at the housekeeper. “Elissa, how impressive! You can even afford a servant now? Where’s the cashing from?”


    His mind shed to the people who’d whisked her awayst time, and resentment gnawed at him. That was exactly why he’d shown up today.


    “Elissa, are you someone’s kept woman now? Tell me—who’s the guy? Cheating on me right out in the open? You’re leaving with me, like it or not!”


    He mped down harder, yanking her toward the door.


    “NO!”


    “Miss Hond!” The housekeeper shouted, voice spiking with urgency. “Mr. Flynn’s here!”


    Ernest, leaning on his cane, hastened over. From a distance, he saw Robin hauling Elissa along, her ashen face streaked with tears.


    “Mr. Flynn?”


    At the housekeeper’s call, Elissa quickly looked up—even though she couldn’t see anything.


    Her eyes met Ernest’s, and something in that look made his steps quicken.


    Robin saw it too, and rage surged through him. He raised his hand and struck her hard across Elissa’s face. “You shameless whore! Flirting with another man right in front of me— Aw!”


    Before he could finish, a sharp cry tore from his throat. He bent over, clutching his stomach in agony.


    Ernest had kicked him square in the abdomen. In the same breath, he stepped forward, gripped Elissa’s wrist, and pulled her behind him. “You…”


    Keep reading at g???????ν???????co??


    Robin looked up, his face pale and pain twisting his features. “Who the hell are you?”


    Ernest had spent years in aa. Back when he held power in the Flynn family, Robin was still a clueless boy. Hence, Robin had no idea who was standing in front of him.


    “Hah!” Robin let out a mockingugh and pointed straight at Elissa. “So you’re the one keeping her now? You’ve got some nerve. A woman like her… she’d sleep with anyone. Only a fool like you would—ouch!”


    Before he could finish, Ernest mmed a foot into Robin’s stomach again.


    This time, the kick sent him flying into the wall. He copsed with a groan, winded and stunned.


    Watching him writhe in pain, Ernest felt satisfied. Anyone who dared insult Locke’s mother was insulting Locke and, by extension, him.


    He gripped Elissa’s hand and turned to leave with her.


    “Don’t you walk away!” Robin’s voice came from behind, hoarse and panicked. He struggled to his feet. “I’m her husband! You have no right to take her!”


    He lunged forward, but Quentin’s men stepped in and forced him back down, rendering him unable to move.


    In the car, Elissa had calmed down and softly said, “Mr. Flynn, thank you.”


    He had saved her. Again.


    .


    .


    .