Richard Shaw's handsome and resolute face darkened slightly as he said, "The incident happened in your South Asian territory, so you can handle it as you see fit."
Ambrose River, kneeling on the ground and wailing, seemed struck by lightning; his eyes rolled back, and he fainted again.
"Wake him up," Ignatius Leclair commanded coldly, his voice steeped in anger.
To deal with this kind of scum, Ignatius didn't even need to consult Richard Shaw. In his fury, he wanted to shatter this man's every glimmer of hope, making him taste the flavor of utter despair. Beyond that, he intended to use this fat man's fate to reprimand Richard Shaw.
Ever since that woman's death, a man who might have had a promising future at the pinnacle of power had fallen into decadence, ignoring worldly affairs. Now, within the Shaw Family's inner quarters, even the son-in-law of a mere servant dared to stir up trouble. How could Ignatius not seethe with rage at Richard Shaw's obliviousness?
