Chapter 151: Mia Made Nougats

He patted Trevor on the shoulder. “This woman is yours to deal with.” As he walked toward the door, Fraser lazily turned his head and said with mockery, “What a joke, getting cheated on.”

Trevor stared at the two people in front of him, his eyes darkening. At this moment, he felt like a complete joke. Trevor suddenly laughed, until his eyes turned red. He shut the door, blocking out the last sliver of light, and walked toward Peyton.

Peyton saw him staring at her with a cold and cruel gaze. Her heart skipped a beat. It’s over! She wanted to beg for mercy, to say something, to say that what Josh said was fake. But an overwhelming fear surged through her, gripping her throat so tightly that her lips and teeth trembled uncontrollably. Tears welled up in her eyes.

Trevor suddenly raised his right hand and swung it across Peyton’s face with a vicious slap. The force of it was accompanied by the sharp sound of a gusting wind. Peyton’s face felt like it had exploded from the impact; the pain so intense that she nearly fainted. Immediately after, a searing pain ripped through her abdomen. Bright red blood began to trickle down between her legs.

She still tried to struggle. “Trevor… please, save my child…”

The driver saw Fraser step out and immediately got out of the car, respectfully opening the rear passenger door. The vehicle started smoothly, going onto the main road.

Sitting in the front passenger seat, Mike finally couldn’t suppress his curiosity anymore. “Mr. Graham, why didn’t you just handle those two yourself? Why call Trevor instead?”

Fraser sat lazily in the middle of the car with his long legs crossed. His handsome face exuded dominance. He lifted his eyelids slightly and said, “Peyton cares most about Trevor. Since that’s the case, it’s only fitting that the man she loves is the one to send her off on her final journey. Remember this: when you take revenge, you don’t just destroy the body. You destroy the heart.” And this way, Trevor wouldn’t have the energy to show up in front of Summer again.

Fraser had never been a righteous man. He wanted Summer. He wanted her eyes to be filled with only him.

Thinking of that woman, Fraser smirked, the pleasure in his eyes deepening. He pulled out his phone and dialed that familiar number. The phone rang for a while. Second by second, time passed, but no one answered on the other end.

Fraser’s perfectly sculpted brows furrowed slightly. Is that little pig still asleep? Or was she too exhausted from last night? Fraser had never had an intense desire for women. But after meeting Summer again, everything changed. As long as she was by his side, even if it was just her unintentionally revealing her feminine side, a single enchanting glance, or a simple handhold… it was enough to completely shatter the self-control he had always prided himself on.

Leaning back against the seat, Fraser tugged at his straight tie, his eyes deep and unreadable beneath his lashes. Just then, the phone he had just put down rang again.

Fraser answered the call. On the other end, Helen’s gentle and affectionate voice came through. “Fraser, you’ve been back from Ameros for so long. Why haven’t you come home to see me? I miss you.”

Fraser smirked slightly. “What, your sources didn’t give you enough information? Now you need to see me in person?”

“You little rascal, what are you saying? You never like coming home, so what else can I do? If you did, I wouldn’t have to find out about you through others.”

Helen sounded a bit embarrassed over the phone. She did have people keeping an eye on things within the Graham Group; she just hadn’t expected her grandson to call her out on it so directly. Helen changed the subject. “Come home today. Mia just returned to the country. She even learned how to make your favorite nougat, just so you could try it with me.”

Fraser tapped his fingers twice against the center console. His handsome face remained expressionless as he said flatly, “Since when do I like nougat?”

“Didn’t you say it was okay when Karena made it before?”

Fraser’s voice was lazy. “What she made and what Mia made… well, are they the same?”

Nougat tasted the same no matter who made it. What is Mia’s version supposed to be better than what a fifty-year-old housekeeper made?