Chapter 262: Good For Nothing
The moment George heard "Jexburgh," everything clicked into place. Manny had recently visited the Quixall residence, revealing that Yelena was, in fact, Harris Xiques' long-lost daughter. He'd invited her to return to the Xiques family and enjoy the life rightfully hers.
Back then, Yelena had refused. But now, after creating such a mess and provoking Chelsea's wrath, George was convinced she'd changed her mind. She was running—taking her mother and younger brother with her—planning to seek refuge under the Xiques name.
"Hehehe…" George suddenly started laughing. His fury was barely contained beneath the sound. On the other end of the line, his subordinate hesitated. "M-Mr. Quixall, are you… all right?"
"Oh, I'm wonderful," George replied, his voice laced with venom. "Never better."
In a sudden outburst, he kicked over a chair and shattered several antique porcelain pieces. His subordinate stayed silent, too afraid to breathe too loudly, let alone speak.
After three minutes, George finally spoke again, suppressing his rage. "Is there still time to intercept them?"
"Yes, sir," the subordinate replied quickly. "We've had eyes on Ms. Quixall's car the whole time. We can move in whenever you give the word."
George's expression twisted into a scowl. "Good. Bring them back. All of them. If they resist, use force."
"Yes, Mr. Quixall!"
After ending the call, George remained rooted in place, seething. The fury in his chest surged like a storm, but as it reached its peak, he began to calm down. The moment she learned she was a Xiques, Yelena didn't hesitate to run straight to them. And she didn't go alone. She took her mother and brother with her. What is this, a family reunion? And me? Where do I fit into any of it? Does she even still consider me her father? Once this gets out, people will laugh behind my back. That I, George Quixall, was played for a fool by my own wife and daughter. That I spent years bragging about my perfect family, blind to the betrayal under my own roof.
A suffocating weight settled in his chest. He waited restlessly for an hour until, finally, he heard movement outside. A black-suited man stepped out of the car. Upon seeing George, he gave a sharp, respectful salute, then moved to open the car door. Deborah and Jesse stepped out.
George shot a cold glance at the two of them. "Where's that good-for-nothing?"
The man replied respectfully, "Ms. Quixall was uncooperative. She resisted so fiercely I feared she might jump out of the car, so I tied her up and placed her in the trunk. The situation was urgent, and I didn't have time to think it through. Please punish me if necessary, Mr. Quixall."
George replied coolly, "No need. You did nothing wrong. If you hadn't acted, that disobedient girl might've actually bolted and caused me even more trouble."
The man gave a nod and opened the trunk. He grabbed the rope binding Yelena and pulled her out. Her mouth was still sealed with tape, her body tightly bound—like someone who had been kidnapped.
George ignored the pleading look in Yelena's eyes. With a single, ruthless kick, he sent her sprawling to the ground.
"You worthless brat!" he roared. "Stirring up trouble and then running off to Jexburgh! Did you ever stop to think about me? Do you even see me as your father?"
Yelena's head hit the floor with a thud, pain flashing across her face as she winced. She tried to push herself up, to meet his gaze, to defend herself, but the ropes binding her left her helpless. She couldn't even lift her arms, let alone rise.
George stepped over her, straddling her limp form, and began slapping her across the face again and again.
"You arrogant little fool!" he spat. "Looking down on your old man like that, you must be tired of living!"
Each slap echoed, sharp and cruel. Deborah stood frozen, paralyzed by fear and disbelief. Her lips parted as if to speak, but no words came. All she could do was tremble, not knowing what to do.