Divorced and Dominant Now You Cry novel Chapter 717

Chapter 717

Hazel’s clear voice rang out across the hall.

Rhonda stepped forward, her long legs carrying her to the front of the crowd. Her voice was thick with resentment.

“Listen to me! The Sage isn’t just impotent—he has a deep, visceral hatred for women. He doesn’t even dare to touch one. He’s not a man at all. Hell, he’s not even half a man.

“Every year, he uses every filthy trick in the book to abduct beautiful women and keep them by his side just to prove his masculinity to the world. The more he lacks, the more he has to flaunt it.”

She turned her gaze toward Flint’s supporters.

“Are you really going to support this animal as the ruler of the criminal underworld? Are you all cowards, too? Don’t any of you have a backbone?”

Rhonda let years of suppressed trauma and hatred explode in a single, lethal indictment. Her words were a storm that swept through the estate, tearing down the last of Flint’s dignity.

The whispers grew into a roar of mockery.

“Oh my God! The Sage really is impotent. If his own children and his women are saying it, there’s no doubt about it. Everyone has abandoned the man. He has no right to rule.”

“Exactly. If this gets out, we’ll all be a laughingstock. The ruler of the criminal underworld is the face of this city. We can’t have an impotent man representing the city.”

“Impotent? So, all those women were just props. It’s pathetic. A goddess like Rhonda was right there, and he didn’t even dare to touch her hand. No wonder she chose Ashton. Any woman would choose a real man over a shell like that.”

“His sons, daughters, and even his women have turned on him. If I were the Sage, I’d kill myself out of shame. How can he even show his face?”

“Down with the Sage! Long live Ashton! How can the ruler of the criminal underworld in Javonbury be an impotent man?”

“Down with the Sage! Long live Ashton! Anyone still backing the Sage, switch sides now. This is your last chance.”

Ashton’s supporters were in a frenzy. They didn’t hold back, unleashing a torrent of vitriol and mockery to strip the Sage of his last shred of dignity.

Flint’s expression was a mask of pure, murderous hatred. This was supposed to be his 80th birthday celebration. Instead, he had been stripped of every shred of dignity.

The killing intent radiating from him grew colder by the second. He looked at Ashton and his traitorous sons as if they were dead men. He made a silent vow to grind their bones to dust and leave them with no place to rot.

“If you want to frame a man, any lie will do,” Flint growled.

Taking a deep breath, he knew explanations were useless now. The only way to salvage his reputation was to kill Ashton immediately. He needed a pile of heads to silence anyone else who dared to whisper about him.

“Ashton, you want to become the ruler of the criminal underworld of Javonbury, huh? Then show me you have the spine to take it. You don’t reach the top of the underworld with your mouth.”

Flint raised his hand, and a massive wave of killing intent erupted.

The experts backing him bared their teeth, ready to strike. At the same moment, Ashton’s allies unsheathed their steel and locked in for a final stand.

Everyone knew the truth. You don’t take the throne without a bloodbath. In this world, power is the only thing that talks.

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