Before Ste could finish her hysterical sobbing, Martin cut her off with a low, furious voice.


    "Are you telling me you aplished absolutely nothingst night and simply handed Remington ckmail material on a silver tter?"


    His gaze was fiercely severe, making Ste tremble involuntarily.


    What could she say? It was the absolute truth-her entire night had been a catastrophic failure.


    The photographer had fallen into Remington''s hands. He had undoubtedly been interrogated, confessed that she was the mastermind, and handed Remington a solid reason to destroy her.


    Seeing Ste cowering silently, Martin demanded coldly,


    "Useless! Where is Ron?"


    "Ron... They refused to let me bring him back."


    Ste offered weakly. In a sh of absolute rage, Martin raised his hand, fully intending to p her across the face.


    But, remembering the maids were still present, he forced his hand down onto her shoulder instead, gripping it tightly.


    "To think Remington wouldpletely disregard your past friendship and do this to you. Don''t worry. Dad will make sure you get justice for this."


    He then ordered a maid to summon a doctor for Ste, turning back to his daughter with a grim smile.


    "Come with me to the study. I''ll help you clean up that wound first."


    Ste forced a trembling smile that looked worse than crying.


    The maids assumed Martin was genuinely concerned for her well-being. None of them realized that his grip on her shoulder was tightening relentlessly, so hard Ste felt her bones were about to shatter.


    Too terrified to disobey, she followed him upstairs.


    The second she stepped into the study and shut the door, Martin lunged, his hand mping like a vice around her throat.


    Ste''s airway was instantly crushed. Her eyes bulged, filling with blood.


    She stared at him in horrified, desperate plea. Only when her eyes began to roll back into her head did Martin finally release her.


    "Cough... hack! Cough!"


    Ste copsed to her knees, gasping and hacking violently for air.


    Martin red down at her with cial disgust. "You couldn''t even bring back a single infant. What use are you to me?"


    Still struggling to breathe, her face a bruised purple, Ste scrambled forward and clung to his leg.


    "Dad, it''s not like that... cough, cough... I deliberately left Ron there. I realized it''s better for him to stay at Oakridge Heights for now."


    Martin raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"


    Ste tipped her head up, speaking frantically. "Dad, Remington currently has zero goodwill toward our family. Ron is your grandson. But it seems Remington hasn''t et his anger toward us tarnish memory of myte brother Because of Quinn, Remington actually cares quite a bit about Ron.


    If Ron stays by Remington''s side, he acts as a crucial link for us. If they bond even more over time st gives. our family vital leverage over Remington. We know how heavily he vatues personal loyalty."


    Her reasoning was surprisingly sound. Martin''s expression softened slightly.


    "Get up."


    Only then did Ste dare pull herself off the floor. She followed him over to the sofas.


    Martin took a seat. Ste hurriedly poured him a cup of tea before gingerly perching next to him.


    "Dad, Liz lost her baby entirely because of the chaos surrounding Ron. Ron lived, and her child died. I refuse to believe Liz could ever genuinely love that boy.


    Calling the police at the hospital was just a stunt to maintain her ''perfect victim'' image in front of Remington Who knows what she''ll do behind closed doors? If something were to... happen... to Ron while under her care it would inevitably spark a massive conflict between her and Remington. It just depends on whether you''re willing to risk Ron..."


    Martin shot her a freezing re. "This is only necessary because you are ipetent. If you were capable, a baby wouldn''t have to suffer for our gains!"


    While phrased as a reprimand, it was, unequivocally, an agreement.