Will the Aloof Billionaire Divorce Today?

Chapter 1099: What’s Going On?

"Bang—"Just as Scarlett felt she couldn’t hold on any longer and was about to faint, the tightly closed door of the study was flung open.

Through her hazy vision, Scarlett saw a familiar figure stride in.

"Grandpa, what on earth did Scarlett do wrong that you have to punish her with family discipline?"

A furious voice rang out; that familiar figure rushed to her side, raised his fist, and drove it hard into the two icy-faced men holding her down.

His fists landed; there were two muffled grunts, and the pressure clamped on her shoulders and arms suddenly loosened. The two icy-faced men restraining her collapsed to the floor.

Scarlett was free, but her body could no longer stand.

Her vision went black and spinning, sensation crept back into her hands, and the searing pain crashed over her in wave after wave.

Her strengthless body folded softly into Matthew Saxon’s arms, and he hooked an arm around her waist, lifting her up.

When Matthew lowered his head to look at her, he saw her face pale as paper, drenched in sweat, her hair soaked through; her lips were mottled with bloody bite marks.

Her limp hand hung in midair; he could vaguely make out how red her palm was, swollen to nearly twice its size.

Her breathing was erratic; clearly the pain was unbearable. She bit down again on those blood-smeared lips, her brows knotted into a tight frown. She hadn’t fainted yet, but her gaze was already unfocused.

Matthew tightened his hold on her.

He raised his head, his expression thunderous. "Grandpa, exactly what terrible mistake did Scarlett make?"

Seeing Matthew barge in, Ian Douglas’s brows creased. He gave a cold snort, tossed the ruler onto the desk, and said with a frosty face, "You should be at the company working right now. What are you doing back here?"

Matthew pressed his lips into a hard line, anger and gloom rising in his eyes. Rage was already boiling in his chest. He ground out, "If I hadn’t come back, Grandpa, you would have beaten my woman to death."

Ian Douglas snorted again, dismissive. "What? She shows no respect to her elders and even curses her own grandfather, me, to die early, and I’m not allowed to teach her a lesson?"

"It was just a few strikes on the palm, a symbolic punishment, that’s all. How does that amount to beating her to death?"

He was blatantly lying through his teeth.

If it were only a symbolic punishment, how could Scarlett be this deathly pale?

But in this moment, Matthew had no desire to argue about such pointless things.

Scarlett’s body was trembling in his arms. The pain must have been too much; she could no longer endure it and let out a faint, barely audible moan.

Matthew hesitated no longer. He turned with her in his arms and strode out.

Just as he stepped out of the study, he ran into Uncle Spencer.

"Young Master, what is going on?"

With a single glance, Uncle Spencer saw Scarlett, face ashen and slick with sweat, cradled in Matthew’s arms. She looked like she’d been through some terrible ordeal; not only was her complexion ghastly, she hovered in a state between consciousness and oblivion.

Matthew’s face was like ice, his eyes utterly devoid of warmth, his whole person radiating a dark, oppressive aura. Hearing Uncle Spencer’s question, he turned his head; shards of ice seemed to glint in his gaze, so cold it was cutting.

Uncle Spencer froze, startled by his reaction.

In his memory, this Young Master of his had never looked at him with such a frigid, hostile stare.

Matthew’s icy gaze lingered on his face for a few seconds, then he turned away without a word, carrying Scarlett past him, shoulder to shoulder.