Chapter 88 Tilda, You’ll Regret This!
“Unless you’re willing to kneel and apologize! That’s the only way out of this!”
“That crap you’re spouting? Please. Nobody buys that anymore!”
Russell snapped, his fury exploding as he lashed out with a vicious kick at the sofa.
He did not dare lay hands on Tilda in front of Andy, but the rage inside him was ready to tear him apart if he could not let it out.
“No worries, Mr. Jenson. You’ve got money to burn. Busting up a sofa is just a few thousand down the drain."
“But at your age, throwing a kick like that could leave you with torn ligaments or worse. Doctors won’t be able to fix it. You’ll be nursing that damage for at least a hundred days.”
Tilda’s mocking voice filled the room, enjoying the sight of him losing control.
In her last life, she would have scrambled to please him, lowered herself, and agonized over whether she had done something wrong.
But now, she almost hoped that kick left him crippled and in the hospital for weeks.
That would have been real justice!
Russell nearly choked on his own rage, teeth grinding as his bloodshot eyes locked on her.
“Rest assured, if you die, I’ll still be alive!”
“I’ll remember those words, Mr. Jenson. May you live a long, long life. Only thing is–my blessings have a nasty habit of backfiring.”
If he thought he could out-snark her, he was playing in the wrong league.
Venom ran in the Jenson bloodline, and she admitted that she had inherited it.
But she’d taken it to the next level.
She could cut a man to pieces with her tongue and still smile while she did it.
“About what Tilda said earlier–I’ll back her up. Mrs. Jenson cornered me at the airport, tried to bribe me, and kept bothering me like a debt collector. It pushed Tilda over the edge, sure, but she’s within her rights. I’ll stand by my client and make damn sure she gets what she’s owed.
“So, Mr. Jenson, the condition’s simple. You kneel and apologize, and this lawsuit disappears like it never happened. The ball’s in your court, Mr. Jenson.”
Tilda slung an arm casually over Andy’s shoulder, her long legs crossed, her eyes glittering with mischief.
“Hear that, Mr. Jenson? The choice is yours. Will you kneel?
“Honestly, I can’t wait to see it. And relax–I won’t take pictures. I’d hate to bruise that fragile ego of yours…”
“Go to hell, Tilda! How the hell did I end up with a daughter like you? I should’ve made Blair abort you when she was pregnant! I should’ve strangled you at birth!”
Russell cut her off, raging before she could finish.
His words spilled out like garbage, all pretense of dignity gone.
He was past reason now, driven insane.
If it had been anyone else, he’d have stayed icy, composed.
But this wasn’t anyone else–this was the daughter he’d spent 19 years searching for, dragging back home like some lost prize. And now she was the one putting a knife to his throat.
The Jenson name had never known such disgrace.
“What a shame, Mr. Jenson. I’m still very much alive. You didn’t manage to get rid of me back then–didn’t beat me down, didn’t strangle me out. And now here I am, strong enough to stand against you… strong enough to drive you right to the edge of the cliff.”
Tilda’s eyes went cold. Her smile was sharp and unfriendly. “Negotiation’s over. Get the hell out of my sight. I’ll see you in court in two days.”
“Mr. Saville, don’t you see how outrageous she’s being? She’s pushing her father to the ground, demanding he crawl on his knees.
“She’s ruthless, arrogant, showing no mercy! She’s not even human! You’re really going to defend a monster like her?”
Howard had given up on swaying Tilda. Talking to her was pointless now.
Their only hope was Andy.
If he dropped the case, the Jensons would win.
Andy tilted his head, his green eyes shining with a sneaky kind of humor. His voice was soft, almost like he was singing. “Tilda, they’re being so nasty. Want me to tack on another lawsuit for slander while we’re at it?”
“Of course.”
Mercy? That word didn’t exist in her dictionary anymore.
If they handed her a weapon, she’d use it.
She’d drag the Jenson family face-first through the mud.
She would let them choke on their own regret.
Howard was stumped.
The realization hit like a hammer.
Coming here was a mistake.
Tilda and Andy were a tag team from hell.
Hoping Andy would turn was nothing but a pipe dream.
It was like jumping straight into a trap.
“Howard, we’re leaving!”
Russell barked the last order through clenched teeth. He stormed out, fury burning in every step.
If he stayed in the room with Tilda another second, staring at that smug, untouchable face, he might lose control completely and beat her to death.
“Tilda, you’ll regret this! You’ll damn well regret it!”