Chapter 8
He was now wearing nothing but underwear, his face red and swollen, crying and laughing like a madman.
His pathetic display was all being captured on camera.
My bestie quietly held up her phone to show me the livestream comments.
Most were mocking, with just a few scattered comments that were obviously from certain types of people:
“Congrats bro, young wives are the best.”
“This guy’s suffered too much oppression these years. We men are always being oppressed by these women, it’s tragic.”
Soon these comments were buried under rebuttals from other users and more mocking remarks about me.
The livestream chat was chaotic and lively.
Thinking about how I’d called this man “Dad” for so many years made me nauseous.
After Lincoln finished announcing his good news to everyone, he finally remembered to discipline me.
“You little brat, do you know your old man has finally made it!”
He rushed forward and grabbed my collar:
“I have a son now! When we get home, I’m throwing you out!”
Just then, an authoritative female voice echoed through the quiet hospital corridor:
“Who wants to throw out my precious granddaughter?”
Lincoln stiffly turned around.
His arrogant face showed a rare flash of fear.
He spoke awkwardly:
“Mom, how did you get here?”
“Didn’t you settle abroad? How do you have time to come back?”
The elegant elderly woman smiled slightly:
“If I didn’t come back, a gold digger like you would be walking all over my precious granddaughter.”
The nearly sixty-year-old man’s expression changed several times before he gritted his teeth and said stubbornly:
“Mom, you can’t manage domestic affairs. Just trust me with the company and go enjoy your retirement.”
Grandma ignored his sweet talk and looked at me with gentle eyes.
“Zara’s been wronged, but don’t be afraid.”
“Grandma’s here.”
My nose stung.
I held back tears, refusing to cry in front of Lincoln.
My bestie showed me the livestream-the comments had exploded.
“That’s Mrs. Rodriguez! Founder of Rodriguez Industries, didn’t she win some distinguished contribution award?”
“My house was built by Mrs. Rodriguez’s company-she’s a real philanthropist.”
“She called that woman granddaughter-don’t tell me we’ve been cursing out the Rodriguez family heiress all day?”
The Rodriguez family built their fortune in heavy industry, supporting the city’s industrial backbone for decades.
During the difficult period two years ago, Rodriguez Industries provided jobs for unemployed youth, saving countless broken families.
No one in the city had forgotten that kindness.
The livestream comments were suddenly flooded with apologies to me, with only a few stubborn people still arguing.
“So what? She was lusting after her own father-can’t we criticize her?”
“Mrs. Rodriguez is the one who helped us, not her!”
“I bet when Mr. Ashford married into the Rodriguez family, he was probably threatened. Men have it so hard.”
I ignored those comments and looked at Grandma with warm eyes.
Grandma protected me behind her, holding stock transfer contracts, and an old prenuptial agreement.
She gestured for the doctor who’d been livestreaming to come over and point the camera at the agreement.
She spoke calmly:
“Lincoln Ashford came from a poor village. Our Rodriguez family sponsored ten children like him.”
“The other nine have all achieved success in their respective fields. Only Lincoln started pursuing my daughter while still in college.”
Grandma laughed coldly and pulled up a video on her phone of the other sponsored children.
Another elderly man, also in his sixties, stared into the camera and said word by word:
“Back then, little Lincoln told me that if he could win over that girl, he’d save himself twenty years of struggle.”
Someone recognized him-he was one of the Rodriguez family’s sponsored children who was now an academician at the Academy of
Sciences.
Finally, this social climber Lincoln had now dropped his disguise, standing before everyone with his true colors showing.
