the two-faced Adopted Girl Who Melted CEO's Ice-Cold Heart Chapter 85 The third sentence becomes even more ruthless

A young girl, and Delphine Carter works in the Entertainnt Sector. Naturally, there can’t be even a hint of scars on her body.

Such is the power of wealth. The old doctor nodded and said, "Take good care and apply the dication for three to four months. It shouldn’t leave any scars, though these months won’t be easy."

"Please stay in the guest room at the Leclair residence tonight, old doctor—it’d be better in case there are any unexpected complications during the night." Ignatius Leclair gently touched Delphine’s face and used a towel to wipe the sweat that had accumulated.

Luckily, she knew to protect her face—it was free of injury.

The old doctor took in the atmosphere and understood that tonight wouldn’t allow for much rest. He nodded and went out to speak with Maximilian about which equipnt would need to be brought in.

Ever since the elder patriarch of the Leclair Family had health troubles, the household had acquired so of the most advanced, cutting-edge dical equipnt available internationally. However, moving it all to the top floor would require quite so effort.

The old doctor caught on to Ignatius’ intentions from his words—he clearly wouldn’t allow the young woman lying on the bed to be moved in the slightest.

After Ignatius finished cleaning and dressing Delphine’s wounds, applied the dication, and fed her so fever-reducing and anti-inflammatory dicine, her complexion finally regained a faint trace of color. The tightly knit furrow of her brows slowly eased, though she remained unconscious.

By the ti all that chaos subsided, it was already the middle of the night.

The old doctor retired to the guest room for rest.

Ignatius finally left the bedroom, arranged for a servant to attend to Delphine, then headed downstairs to sit by the fireplace in the side hall. Once most of the people had gathered, he leveled a heavy gaze at the old butler and demanded coldly, "Explain everything, word for word."

The old butler, who had served at the Leclair Residence for many years, found himself witnessing the first ti the stern eldest young master displayed such evident rage. Hastily, he began recounting the series of events.

Ignatius listened silently, his expression unchanging. The only sound in the side hall was the asured voice of the old butler.

Bessie Leclair, who had been sitting on the sofa, grew increasingly uneasy as she listened. When Ignatius’s deanor beca darker and more ominous, her legs started to tremble. She stood up in alarm, visibly flustered.

After the butler finished, Ignatius stayed quiet for a while, his phoenix eyes narrowing with a brooding intensity. Finally, he swept his gaze across the room, then spoke slowly, firmly, and with icy clarity: "Everyone on duty today—take three months’ salary, leave, and never return. Not under any circumstances."

The old butler was startled, shocked by the severity of the order.

"Replace all the bodyguards—have Maximilian’s sixth team take over the Leclair estate." Ignatius continued in his frozen, authoritative tone.

"As for Bessie, lock her in the wine cellar. Without my explicit order, she is not to co out." His third command was even colder, rciless.

Bessie was dumbfounded. It took her a mont to react before she scread, "Big Brother, it was Uncle who hit her—not ! I didn’t do anything! Why lock in the cellar?"

Disgust flickered in Ignatius’s eyes as he stood upright, casting a frosty glance her way. "Don’t let hear you call out again," he warned.

Bessie instantly fell apart, wailing loudly. She had done nothing—why was she being confined to the wine cellar? Ignatius was being utterly unreasonable, domineering, and cold-hearted.

Seeing how the eldest young master’s expression grew increasingly frigid, Maximilian quickly directed others to escort the fourth Miss to the wine cellar. He added indifferently, "Miss, you’d best lay low for now."

Being locked in the cellar was hardly severe punishnt. At least there hadn’t been a whipping—she ought to feel fortunate.

"Fine, I’ll go! But I’m telling Grandfather about this!" Bessie protested tearfully as she was led away.

Ignatius sneered coldly before heading upstairs.

All the commotion inevitably stirred Stone Leclair awake. These past few days, his mood had been volatile—he’d lashed out, hurt soone, and then been knocked unconscious by a bodyguard. Upon waking, he beca painfully aware that he’d lost control again.