The Ex-husband Wants to Get Power Every Day After the Divorce

Upon learning that Michael Gallagher was still alive, he let out a long sigh of relief and slept the longest he had all month.

Michael Gallagher “died” because of his crazy fans, and these days he was bearing the guilt of causing his death while interacting with Molly Walker. He didn’t even dare to speak more than necessary.

Regardless of whether Molly liked Michael Gallagher or not, the fact that he had caused the death of her baby’s father made him lose sleep.

He thought about becoming the baby’s father, or if not, even the godfather would do, but killing the baby’s real father put him in the position of an enemy.

He wanted to be the baby’s father, not the baby’s enemy!

Fortunately, Michael Gallagher was still alive.

Although he was glad that the man was alive, he didn’t want him to get back together with Molly.

Molly glanced at him and replied lightly, “No.”

Harry Lambert blinked, and a big smile bloomed on his handsome face.

“I’ve accomplished what my master entrusted me with. A divorce means the end of the fate.” After finishing the last word, a gust of cold wind poured into Molly’s chest, causing a sharp pain.

Some people have a tree planted in their hearts. Even if the tree is there, once the roots are struck and the buds emerge, it will hurt.

Her subtle expression did not escape Harry Lambert’s eyes. He lowered his eyes and sighed softly.

The scenes of Molly’s sorrow after Michael Gallagher’s death are still vivid in his mind. That was the look of genuine affection. Though she hid it well, he knew that if Michael Gallagher had died, she would never have forgiven herself for the rest of her life.

“Big Boss has passed away, you don’t have to live according to his last wishes. If you want to remarry, others in the organization will protect you and won’t let him bully you like before.”

In the past, she did not issue orders to protect her identity, and he did not dare to reveal himself. But now it’s different. Her identity has basically been exposed, and they can openly help her.

Not only that, with her brother and Leaford family involved, nobody would dare to bully her.

After that incident, he only wished for her happiness. No matter who she chose in the end, he would respect her choice.

Listening to Harry Lambert’s comforting words, Molly’s frozen heart warmed a little.

Over the years, Harry Lambert has been her subordinate but more like a mentor and friend. He unconsciously helped her with everything she did. It was because of trust that she left her personal finances in his hands, and he doubled her wealth in just a few years. Not only was he of good character, but he was also highly capable.

“No. 6, thank you.”

Harry Lambert grinned, waved his hand nonchalantly, “It’s a small matter.”

He paused for a moment, then added: “As long as you’re happy.”

Even though he could only stand behind Molly, he felt luckier than Michael Gallagher and Jeremy Norman because he could be by her side all the time and she trusted him the most.

Neither Michael Gallagher nor Jeremy Norman could catch up to him in this regard.

“Are you going back to the Leaford family next?”

Molly shook her head, “Going to prison, to see Isabelle Richardson for the last time.”

Isabelle Richardson’s trial was approaching, so it was time for her to see her for the last time.

Just after Michael Gallagher talked to his grandfather, he received the shocking news of Xavier Gallagher’s death.

“Young Master, Xavier Gallagher committed suicide.”

Hearing this, Michael Gallagher’s pupils contracted, and he almost dropped his cell phone.

Xavier Gallagher was dead?

The brother he respected the most was dead.

After an unknown period, he finally found his voice, “Have you found the reason?”

It’s strict in prison, and it’s difficult for people to commit suicide. But if Xavier Gallagher was determined to die, he could achieve his goal.

“The specific reason is not clear. The police asked you to go over, saying that Xavier Gallagher left a suicide note.”

Michael Gallagher hung up the phone and rushed to the Police Station, where he received the suicide note.

There was only one appeal inside: please help Isabelle Richardson.

“Michael, I’ve done a lot of wrong things in order to survive, but I really had no choice. I originally wanted to tell you myself, but I couldn’t wait any longer. Living here every day is torture. After I die, I have only one request – to help Isabelle. Please, for the sake of our child, help his mother. He has already lost his father, and he can’t lose his mother too. I know Isabelle has done many wrong things, and I’ll go to the underworld to atone for her sins. I hope that heaven can give her a chance, a chance to start anew.”

The brief suicide note only had one meaning: to ask him to help Isabelle Richardson.

Thinking about what Isabelle had done, Michael lowered his eyes.

If he had come a little earlier, maybe Xavier would not have died.

There are no ifs.

Xavier dies, but his last wish is for him to save Isabelle’s life.

In the central police station in Capital City, Michael sits on a chair waiting for the visitation.

Isabelle, with a haggard face, walks in. Through the window, when she sees Michael, she becomes startled.

She stares at Michael’s face, then backs up forcefully until she hits a wall. Immediately afterward, her body starts trembling.

“Michael Michael Michael ” She stares at him incredulously, unable to snap out of it for a long time.

What is Michael doing here?

Is he alive or a ghost?

Isabelle pinches her arm hard, the pain bringing her thoughts back.

It’s not a dream!

It’s the living Michael!

Michael is really alive!

Isabelle’s eyes widen, her nose turns sour, and her eyes fill with tears.

“Michael, you’re still alive! You’re really alive!” Isabelle excitedly approaches, touching the glass with her hand, stroking his face like a madwoman. “I knew you wouldn’t die so easily. You came to rescue me, right, Michael? This place is not fit for humans to live. Those dead women keep beating me, calling me a murderer. How could I be a murderer? I was framed by that woman, Molly! I didn’t kill her grandmother. She bribed the police and forged evidence!”

Isabelle cries pitifully, her words filled with choking and grievances.

Michael’s face is expressionless, a hint of complexity hidden in his eyes.

If it were before, he might have “believed” her because Isabelle is the continuation of Xavier’s life, and he would protect her against his conscience.

But now, even if someone else said bad things about Molly, he wouldn’t believe them.

Thinking about how she killed Mrs. Walker, Michael’s heart grows colder.

He once broke with Molly because of her.

He once protected a murderer.

Whenever he thinks about this, the regret is like a shackle, tightening his heart mercilessly.

No wonder Molly wanted to leave him; he had done too many wrongs.

“I can’t save you,” he lifts his eyes slightly, the darkness at the bottom of his eyes unrecognizable, his magnetic voice coming from an ice cellar, with a hint of coldness. “You killed someone; no one can save you.”

Isabelle’s eyes widen, and her body stiffens like iron.

“Then what did you come to see me for today? To see my joke?” Isabelle clenches her fists and angrily rebukes, “Don’t forget, I was the one who called Xavier when you were about to be burned to death. He saved you, but my fiancé died.”

Seeing Michael’s indifference, Isabelle regrets her words just now and hurriedly corrects herself in light of her situation: “I don’t need you to save me, but you can think of a way to change my death penalty to life imprisonment.”

In her heart, Michael is almost omnipotent.

Over the years, Michael has indeed made himself omnipotent, always agreeing to her wildest requests, even if it’s for Xavier’s sake.

She got used to her demands, forgetting that Xavier’s affairs had long been exposed.

She also forgot that the current Michael was no longer the old Michael.

At this moment, Isabelle is like a drowning person who has grasped onto a piece of driftwood, incomparable, her words illogical.

Seeing Isabelle still trying to use Xavier, Michael’s thin lips tighten, cold as a steel knife.

This woman only thinks about herself.

Pity Xavier’s infatuation; even in death, he still hopes Michael will protect her. Now it seems his infatuation has all gone to the dogs.

Michael curls up his cool lips, his eyes indifferent, and his tone cold: “Xavier is dead.”

Isabelle freezes and stammers, “What did you say?”

“Xavier is dead,” Michael repeats, “In prison, he committed suicide.”