Chapter 168: Visiting Mr. Thorne VII

Words : 1046 Updated : Oct 13th, 2025

Chapter 168: Visiting Mr. Thorne VII A thick silence descended upon the room after Athena’s statement, pressing down like a heavy blanket. Old Mr. Thorne stared at his wife, then turned to Athena, trying to grasp the gravity of her implication. "You mean to tell me that all these years, Ewan isn’t aware of the shares he holds in my company? Both the ones my daughter willed to him on his second birthday?" His voice trembled, a blend of disbelief and mounting anger. Athena shook her head, feeling the weight of the conversation heavy on her shoulders. "I don’t think so. It’s like you said earlier; you gave Alfonso the documents. The evil man probably withheld them for his own reasons. I can’t say for certain what they are, but has he approached you about anything?" Old Mr. Thorne shook his head vigorously. "Even when I was a frequent visitor at the Giacometti mansion, I never saw eye to eye with Alfonso. The only reason I handed him those documents was because Ewan chose to stay with him." A shadow of regret crossed his face, and the lines of worry deepened, etching themselves further into his skin. Athena briefly pressed her lips together in thought, her mind racing. Based on her medical conclusions, Ewan had been fed with drugs since childhood. Most likely, he wouldn’t truly remember his connection to Old Mr. Thorne or consider it significant—just another face from a distant memory. "That Alfonso deserves to be imprisoned for life..." Florence spoke through gritted teeth, her voice laced with a fierce anger. "He promised me he would care for Ewan! He assured the community he would look after him. That Ewan was better off with someone from his town than an outsider. And now here we are, with Ewan nearly mentally deranged!" The pain was evident in Florence’s voice, and Athena held back a gasp of pain as the old woman tightened her grip on her hands. "Edward, call the guards in charge of them now! Let’s find out where those documents are! If he hesitates, then have them slice off Fiona’s fingers to start with!" Athena glanced at her children, noting the look of mixed concern and anger on their faces. Old Mr. Thorne appeared to consider the suggestion as he picked up the phone, already dialing the security detail assigned to Alfonso and his daughter. It struck Athena that Old Mrs. Thorne was far fiercer than her husband—more resolute in her desire for justice. "Hello..." Old Mr. Thorne greeted when the phone connected, his voice carrying a tense authority. He looked around the room, noting the expectant gazes of those with him. Without hesitation, he dropped the phone onto the table and switched it to loudspeaker mode, ready to confront whatever awaited on the other end. "Good day sir..." "Good day, Henry. How are the culprits?" "They’re fine, sir. Haven’t stepped out of line yet." "Good. I want you to give Alfonso the phone. I want to speak with him." Athena could hear the shuffle of feet on the other end, accompanied by a door creaking open and shutting, until Alfonso’s voice emerged, strained and cautious. "What is it?" "My master wants to speak with you," Henry replied before stepping back, leaving the line open. A pause hung in the air, heavy with the tension of unspoken words, before Alfonso’s voice broke through again, louder this time. "Mr. Thorne, good day. To what do I owe this unexpected call?" Old Mr. Thorne clenched his fists, struggling to keep his burgeoning anger in check. "The documents I handed you concerning Ewan’s shares in the company—where are they?" A thick silence fell on the line, followed by Fiona’s whisper, filled with confusion. "What is he talking about, Dad?" "I gave them to Ewan," Alfonso replied, avoiding his daughter’s question entirely. "I will ask again, Alfonso. If you don’t provide me a reasonable answer, I will ensure you regret lying to me. Where are those documents?" Old Mr. Thorne couldn’t help the tremors in his voice this time, anger leaking through with every word. "I am saying the same thing, Mr. Thorne. I gave them to Ewan. I know I might have a track record of lying..." "Henry!" Old Mr. Thorne shouted, cutting Alfonso off before he could weave another deceptive excuse. "Yes, sir!" Henry responded, his voice quick and steady, ready to act on his boss’s command. "Cut off the fingers on the right hand of his daughter. Slowly." "Yes, sir!" But before Henry could fulfill the order, a panicked scream burst from Alfonso. "What are you trying to do?! Mr. Thorne, I will speak! The documents are in my drawer. My wife knows the one!" His voice shook, the tremors echoing not just with fear but with realization. "Why did you keep it from Ewan?" Old Mr. Thorne’s voice had taken on a calmness, but it was the kind of calm that often precedes a storm. "I kept them away, saving them for when he is older. He has the other documents showing the shares of his father’s work," Alfonso replied, his tone defensive yet quaking. Old Mr. Thorne laughed bitterly. "So, Ewan Giacometti isn’t a grown man at thirty one?" Silence enveloped them once more, heavy and suffocating. "I swear, Alfonso, you will pay for this. Henry!" "Yes, sir!" "Make sure not to give them food for two days!" Before Alfonso’s protests could truly be heard, Old Mr. Thorne hung up the call. "How much is the value of those shares now?" Athena asked, watching her friend’s expression shift as he buried his face in his hands, the weight of years of deception crashing down around him. "In billions," Florence replied, shaking her head, disbelief splayed across her face. "When the KN press attacked his company, we thought he might reach out for our help. We assumed he knew his worth in our empire, but it seems we were just making assumptions." Old Mr. Thorne lifted his head, determination returning as he picked up his phone and dialed another contact. "Who are you calling?" Florence asked, her voice laced with concern. "I’m calling his wife, Margaret." Just as he spoke, the call connected. Again, he placed it on loudspeaker. "Hello? Mr. Thorne?"

Chapter 168: Visiting Mr. Thorne VII

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