Chapter 388: Something Happened? Who Knows.

Chapter 388: Chapter 388: Something Happened? Who Knows.

The excitement in his voice made it impossible to believe his older brother had just died tonight.

Evan Crowe leaned against the headboard, phone in hand, his expression just as placid. "Keep your voice down. Aaron Crowe has a vicious temper. If you say that out loud now, he’ll send you to meet First Uncle Crowe in a heartbeat."

The excited look on Second Uncle Crowe’s face instantly stiffened. He rubbed his nose sheepishly. "I know, I know. I just got carried away for a second. Don’t worry, I know how to handle this.

I just don’t know who did it. So classless, choosing the red wine cellar of all places. Got the floor all dirty for nothing."

Second Uncle Crowe shook his head again, his tone full of disapproval.

Evan Crowe ignored his father, his eyes glued to a photo on his phone. He even licked the corner of his lips, a look of possessive determination flashing in his eyes.

Anyone who saw it would have recognized the photo was of Wendy Dawson, clearly a candid shot taken without her knowledge.

Second Aunt Crowe sat at her vanity, meticulously arranging her jewelry. She paid no mind to the conversation between her husband and son.

’In any case, they would never turn on me.’

’And my sister-in-law?’

’What’s it got to do with me? As long as I’m well off, that’s all that matters.’

Things were much more dramatic over in Aunt Crowe’s room. The moment she got back, she swept everything off her bookshelf and desk, sending it all crashing to the floor.

A picture frame clattered to the ground, the glass shattering to reveal the photo within.

"You ungrateful brat! Ungrateful, ungrateful brat! If I hadn’t dragged you out of that car, you’d be dead!" Aunt Crowe frantically stomped on the photo. "If your parents hadn’t begged me, would I have stayed behind? Would half my body have been burned? Would I have lost my ability to ever have children?

You little bastard! You heartless little bastard!"

Apparently, that wasn’t satisfying enough. Aunt Crowe glanced around, snatched a pair of scissors from nearby, and began stabbing the face in the photo, over and over again.

She stabbed it more than a dozen times until Clark Crowe’s face in the photo was shredded to pieces.

Staring at the ruined photo on the floor, Aunt Crowe finally seemed to have vented her rage and burst out laughing. "Fine. You want to kill me? We’ll see who gets to whom first.

I was too soft on you before. I let you go. This time, I’ll send your entire family down to join you.

My dear nephew, Auntie will prepare the most wonderful wedding gift for you. One you’ll never, ever forget."

As she spoke, Aunt Crowe rose to her feet. She raised her hands, holding them delicately in the air, and began to dance with light steps, as if already celebrating her victory.

Meanwhile, in Aaron Crowe’s part of the house, his mother, Mrs. Crowe, sat on the sofa, weeping into her hands over the loss of her husband.

Her son, Aaron Crowe, offered no comfort. Instead, he was on his deceased father’s phone, frantically looking up information about his estate.

When he found the answer he was looking for, Aaron Crowe froze as if struck by lightning.

He looked down at the phone mechanically, then over at his weeping mother. A nameless rage welled up inside him.

Aaron Crowe slammed the phone to the floor and roared at his mother, "Cry, cry, cry! What is there to cry about?!

If you were even the slightest bit useful, you would’ve kept Dad in line! He wouldn’t have blown through all his money!

And now look! The money’s all gone, and he racked up a ton of debt! You’re useless! You might as well just die and go serve Dad in the afterlife!"

Mrs. Crowe, deep in her grief, was stunned by her son’s outburst. She looked up, her expression one of utter disbelief. "What did you just say? I’m your mother! How dare you speak to me like that!"

’The son I raised through so much hardship is telling me I’d be better off dead?’

A chill went through Mrs. Crowe’s heart. The way she looked at her son grew complicated.

Her slumped posture slowly straightened. Her expression shifted from initial shock to cold indifference.

The entire transformation took less than a minute.

Aaron Crowe, lost in the despair of being broke and in debt, completely missed the change in his mother’s expression.

Hearing Mrs. Crowe’s question, his tone grew even more impatient. "I’m not wrong! If you were useful, you could have controlled Dad!"

Mrs. Crowe rose from the sofa, walked over to Aaron, and slapped him hard across the face.

"You dare hit me?" Aaron Crowe clutched his cheek, his voice full of disbelief.

"I’ll do more than hit an ungrateful brat like you! Get out!" Mrs. Crowe flicked her hand and pointed to the door, ordering him out.

Aaron Crowe said nothing more. He just stared at Mrs. Crowe, then sneered and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

"Like father, like son. That damnable expression is exactly the same," Mrs. Crowe said as she slowly pulled out a tissue and wiped the tears from her face. "But that’s a good thing. A simpleton like him is the easiest to manipulate."

Meanwhile, Zoe Sawyer and Heath Hale were hiding behind a door, witnessing what was happening in all four households.

They waited until Aaron Crowe had left before closing the door and discussing what they’d just seen.

"Every single person in this family has their own agenda. It’s a whole cast of villains," Zoe Sawyer said, shaking her head as she recalled the scenes they had just witnessed.

"Whether it was Second Uncle Crowe’s family, who seemed so unremarkable and insignificant, the secretly volatile Aunt Crowe, or the spoiled brat Aaron Crowe.

Not a single one of them is a good person."

"It looks like things should be quiet for the rest of the night. You should get some rest. Tomorrow isn’t going to be any calmer," Heath Hale said. He was writing down everything they had just witnessed in a notebook, adding his own analysis at the end.

Only after confirming he hadn’t missed anything did he close the notebook.

It had been a long day. At night, they not only had to keep an eye on this bunch but also stay vigilant in case they made a move on Wendy Dawson.

They had even snuck out to the police station to sync up their information and had been monitoring the Crowes for quite a while.

The whole ordeal had been especially draining for Zoe Sawyer.

Once he was certain things had settled for the night, Heath urged Zoe to get some sleep.

"Alright, I’m going. You get some rest soon, too." Zoe Sawyer stood, stretched her shoulders, and lay down on the bed.

Heath, meanwhile, settled onto the nearby sofa.

But things didn’t unfold the way Heath had predicted.

「The next morning.」

Before the maids came in to clean, Zoe and Heath were already up, resuming their cover as a young couple.

But when they went downstairs, they realized someone was missing.

"Where’s Aaron Crowe? Don’t tell me he stayed up all night again. Has he forgotten what day it is? How can he have no sense of timeliness?

Mrs. Crowe, where is he?" Aunt Crowe asked with a frown once everyone else had gathered and she saw Aaron wasn’t among them.

Mrs. Crowe, who had been asked, leisurely finished her breakfast before responding to Aunt Crowe’s question.

"Something’s probably happened to him. Who knows."