Ignatius Leclair's eyes turned icy cold as he spoke indifferently, "Mr. Squire, you really have a sense of humor. Do you think I would believe that?"
Griffith Squire's territory had always been around the Golden Triangle. How could Delphine have gone to such a place?
Griffith chuckled wickedly at these words, lighting the cigarette in his hand. Crossing his legs, he watched across the street where Bessie Leclair was storming in with her people to cause a scene. He smirked lazily and said, "Believe it or not, that's up to you. Back then, who didn't know I had a woman by my side in the Golden Triangle? She had my initials carved on her shoulder, and she'd even carried my child. The grudge of stealing one's woman? Well, I'll accept it with a smile for now."
After finishing, Griffith casually hung up the phone, the devilish curve on his lips growing more pronounced. When he hung up earlier, it seemed like he heard a loud crash from the other end.
