Chapter 404: If They Can’t Give Her the Justice She Wants, She’ll Take It Herself

Chapter 404: Chapter 404: If They Can’t Give Her the Justice She Wants, She’ll Take It Herself

But Old Mrs. Yeats making him take the fall and handing him over to Aethel was completely cutting off his escape route! He had done everything for Old Mrs. Yeats and Claire, so why were they treating him like this?! No wonder... No wonder Estelle Lockwood had said she wouldn’t dwell on that 7% of shares for now, but told him to just wait and see what would happen next. Now he knew...

Seeing Evan’s expression, Old Mrs. Yeats felt a twinge of guilt for a split second.

Old Mrs. Yeats squeezed her eyes shut and yelled, "It’s not... it’s not that serious!

"It’s just Aethel. He’s just a Mr. Lynch! Evan, you won’t let us down!

"That’s right, you definitely won’t! Just you wait, Estelle Lockwood. Evan will be the death of you sooner or later!"

Estelle curled her lips into a smile and shot Damian White a glance.

The latter nodded subtly. "Rest assured, ma’am."

Old Mrs. Yeats, however, grew more confident the more she spoke. She seemed completely oblivious to what she had done wrong or who she had offended. Deep down, she believed that as the elderly matriarch of the Yeats family, they would protect her no matter what she did. No matter what grievances she suffered, the family would help her vent her anger. While the Branch of Yeats Group valued their partnership with Aethel, in Old Mrs. Yeats’s mind, the Yeats Group looked down on him entirely. Therefore, she assumed Aethel posed no threat to the Yeats Group whatsoever.

The more she thought about it, the more emboldened she became, muttering to herself, "I don’t care anyway. Evan, you have to help me vent this frustration. Does Estelle even understand that I’m her elder? How dare she demand an explanation from me? How am I supposed to show my face when I return to Capital City?"

Evan stared at his grandmother in utter shock. Trembling all over, he was completely at a loss for words. Even now, she was only thinking about herself! A wave of despair rose from the depths of his heart, and Evan gritted his teeth. Estelle... she was truly twisting the knife!

"Grandma, do you really think offending Aethel can be resolved just by throwing me under the bus?" he burst out. "Haha... You only think about yourself! You only think about Claire!"

Old Mrs. Yeats still didn’t grasp the gravity of the situation. "So what if I do..."

Evan felt a lump in his throat as a wave of dizziness washed over him.

"Ah!"

"What... what happened to Evan?"

"It looks like Old Mrs. Yeats made him pass out from sheer anger!"

"Evan committed the crime himself, yet he’s the one passing out from anger?"

"...That’s hard to say. Who knows if Old Mrs. Yeats is just using Evan as a scapegoat?"

"But Claire is just a daughter of a branch family, whereas Evan is her biological grandson. There’s no need for her to go that far, is there?"

Estelle retracted her gaze. Watching them turn on each other like wild dogs—she was very satisfied with this outcome.

The news of Aethel announcing his partnership with the Branch of Yeats Group had been shocking, and his sudden cancellation of the collaboration was equally astounding.

Once people learned the details, they were left utterly speechless. Whether it was truly Evan’s scheme or not was up for debate, but one thing was universally acknowledged: the people at the Branch of Yeats Group were incredibly shortsighted. To frame and humiliate a specific person, they were willing to destroy a secured partnership.

Neither Old Mrs. Yeats, Claire, nor the ’sinner’ Evan were suitable people to associate with anymore.

After the incident, Claire originally wanted to contact a few of her friends for afternoon tea, but to her surprise, she was rejected by every single one of them.

"I’m sorry, Claire, but I’ve been too busy lately. I really don’t have the time."

"Claire, I’m out of town right now, so I won’t be able to make it."

"Oh my, Claire, you still have the mood for afternoon tea?"

Furious, Claire smashed her phone against the wall. In the past, all these socialites used to flatter and fawn over her. Now that she was in trouble, they fled faster than anyone else!

RING RING RING...

Suddenly, her phone rang. Claire answered it, and a cold, robotic female voice came from the other end. "Do you realize how stupid you were this time?"

This voice...

Claire hastily cried out, "Mentor, I... I didn’t know that Mr. Lynch..."

"Because you were played by Estelle! You were played by her from start to finish!" the robotic voice interjected coldly. "She never intended to collaborate with the Branch of Yeats Group in the first place. The moment she found Silas Lockwood’s painting, she began plotting for today, you fool!"

"Mentor, then... what should I do next?"

The robotic voice sneered. "What should you do? Stop letting people catch you by the tail! As for Evan, just abandon him."

Claire was confused. "What do you mean?"

"It won’t be long before the Yeats family abandons him," the voice replied breezily. "Stop meddling in these trivial matters."

The call disconnected, leaving Claire completely bewildered. What did she mean by the Yeats family abandoning Evan? Although Evan’s reputation was indeed terrible, he was at least Old Mr. Yeats’s biological son. Why would he be abandoned?

As Estelle left the scene, the window of a luxury car slowly rolled down.

She raised an eyebrow. "Have you been waiting here the whole time?"

The man’s voice was gentle and clear. "How could I not be here when Mrs. Sloan returns in triumph?"

Nathaniel Sloan opened the car door for her. Estelle sat in the passenger seat, her fingertips lightly brushing against the leather upholstery, before she suddenly curled her lips into a smile. "Doesn’t Mr. Sloan think I’m being too ruthless?"

The Yeats family refused to make Evan pay the price for stealing the paintings, so she decided to take matters into her own hands. Estelle had always been someone who settled her scores and avenged her grievances. Old Mr. Yeats had claimed that Evan had already paid the price and hoped she would show mercy.

But Estelle refused. ℯℯ𝑙.

Evan was unwilling to reveal the mastermind behind the stolen paintings. He had stolen her father’s art to use as his own claim to fame and showed absolutely zero remorse afterward. He believed that because he was a member of the Yeats family, he would be protected no matter what he did—after all, they were just a few paintings.

Moreover, Estelle knew exactly why the Yeats family was willing to sweep this matter under the rug. In their minds, Silas was Eleanor’s husband, making Silas half a Yeats. Since Estelle was Eleanor’s daughter, she was also considered half a Yeats. To them, Evan had merely used his own family member’s artwork. How could that be considered stealing? What was there to fuss over?

Estelle could never accept this outcome, so she took action herself.

Nathaniel chuckled softly. Keeping his eyes on the road, he started the engine. As the surrounding scenery slowly receded, the man’s husky voice echoed softly. "Not at all, Mrs. Sloan. I highly admire you.

"Estelle, you don’t need to worry about giving the Yeats family an explanation, nor do you need to worry about what Old Mr. Yeats might say. No matter what they do, I will always stand by your side and protect you."

A warmth spread through Estelle’s heart, and her eyes crinkled with a smile. "Then I really must thank Mr. Sloan. After all, growing up, there... truly haven’t been many people who chose to stand firmly by my side."

Nathaniel’s heart skipped a beat, and his hands suddenly tightened their grip on the steering wheel. "From now on, you have me."

Estelle had originally assumed that either Quentin or Old Mr. Yeats would call to ask about the situation. Whether to placate her or reprimand her, they should have reached out. Surprisingly, the Yeats family remained entirely silent, allowing the rumors to run rampant.

Several days later, a maid knocked on her door. "Ma’am, Mr. Sloan would like you to go try on your gown. He is waiting for you at the hy studio."