Chaos Girl Rewrites the Script novel Chapter 86

In the sweltering mid-July heat, the loudest sound wasn't the chirping of cicadas, but Damien's agonized screams.

The elite circles never keep secrets. Within hours, all the prominent families in Stormhollow Deepwater Port had heard the news: the youngest son of the Whitmore family had his legs broken on the orders of the patriarch of the Ravenshire family. Even old Mr. Whitmore's dentures weren't spared in the scuffle.

The Blackthorne Estate, a villa halfway up the mountain.

The nineteenth-century American-style decor was grand and vintage, with a nearly ten-foot crystal and gilt chandelier hanging from the arched dome of the main hall.

Edmund Blackthorne, dressed in a waistcoat, held a steaming cup of coffee.

“That old fool Frederick, he never learns his lesson. What was he thinking, going after the Ravenshires? Ever since that cunning old devil Caspian’s son died, he’s been acting like a pious monk. Even I give him a wide berth, but the Whitmores have the gall to provoke him? He’s just getting more pathetic with age. If I were that humiliated, I’d just go ahead and stick my other foot in the grave.”

The Blackthorne patriarch had his slick, silver hair combed back, wore gold-rimmed glasses, and looked vigorous. He had the air of old money, and even when he cursed, his delivery was slow and deliberate, filled with the arrogance of an old-world aristocrat.

The butler Rupert smiled faintly. He was so used to his master's sharp tongue that he was completely unfazed by it.

Edmund leaned back against the sofa and crossed his legs. “So? What did Frederick do after he went back?”

Rupert replied, “Elder Mr. Whitmore has summoned the best orthopedic surgeons in Evershade City to the family estate.”

Edmund shook his head dismissively. “What a waste of effort. When Caspian breaks a leg, do you think he’d do a sloppy job?” At that, Edmund perked up. “Here! Give Caspian a call. Let's invite him out.”

Rupert was silent.

*The old master really enjoyed watching a good train wreck, didn't he?*

Rupert did as he was told, pulling out his phone, expertly dialing a number, and then handing it to him.

Edmund took the phone, his tone unhurried and familiar. “Hello? Caspian, old friend. Care for a game of chess tonight?”

“Mr. Blackthorne, it's me, Cedric.”

Edmund had expected Caspian wouldn't answer, but he feigned ignorance anyway. “Why is it you? Where's your master?”

Cedric said, “I'm very sorry, but Mr. Ravenshire isn't available to take your call right now.”

Graham said, “I’m busy.”

“Tsk!” Edmund clicked his tongue. “Have you heard about what happened between the Ravenshires and the Whitmores?”

Graham said, “What happened? I'm busy with family matters every day. Where would I find the time to worry about other people's affairs?”

Edmund saw through the act but didn't call him on it. “Is that so? I just got some firsthand gossip I wanted to share, but if you're busy, then…”

“Hey, wait, wait! Where are we playing tonight? The usual spot?”

“The usual spot.”

Edmund hung up, tossed the phone back to Rupert, and casually picked up the newspaper from the table.

In the politics section, the front page featured a close-up of Ethan looking righteous and defiant for the camera.

His impassioned statement seemed to have had some effect. The public outcry wasn't as intense as it had been initially; it seemed people were waiting for the High Court's final verdict.