Larissa's Game of Thrones (Larissa) novel Chapter 749

Kiernan looked down at his second son, who was groveling and begging at his feet in a desperate attempt to escape justice. A profound sense of disgust washed over him.

“You fool!” Kiernan yanked his leg back with such force that Paxton tumbled to the floor. “Is that the point?! The point is what you, in collusion with Lucius, did to your own wife. Does it matter who hired the hitman? You animal! You would sacrifice your wife to frame your own daughter. You are worse than a beast!”

Vivica closed her eyes. Hot tears streamed silently from their corners, falling onto the cold floor.

For their sons?

What a pathetic, despicable excuse. He had done it all for his own insatiable hunger for power. And she was nothing more than an insignificant ant in the path of his ambition, to be crushed at any moment.

Her heart was finally, completely dead.

“Did you not hear my grandfather? Take this animal back to the Judson estate. He’ll be handed over to the police in the morning,” Larissa instructed the bodyguards her grandfather had brought.

“Yes, miss.” Two guards moved forward, grabbed Paxton by the arms, and unceremoniously dragged him away.

Paxton’s pleas and excuses faded as he was taken out the door. A heavy silence descended upon the apartment.

It was as if all the vitality had been drained from Kiernan in an instant. His already stooped back seemed to curve even more. He looked at no one, his gaze fixed on the dark night and the distant city lights outside the window.

After a long moment, he spoke, his voice as weary and frail as a dry leaf in the autumn wind. “Larissa…”

Larissa stepped forward. “Grandpa.”

Kiernan didn't look at her, his eyes still on the view. “At my age… it’s time to rest. My heart is tired.”

He finally turned, his cloudy old eyes holding a sense of finality and release, along with the weight of a heavy burden being passed on.

“Tomorrow morning, I’m going with the villagers to Spire Village to live out my days.”

He paused, his hand, spotted with age, gently patting Larissa’s shoulder. The touch felt heavy, as if he were transferring the weight of the world onto her.

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