Chapter 477: Can’t Stomach Everything

Chapter 477: Chapter 477: Can’t Stomach Everything

"Young Mr. Kendrick, I’m just looking at the facts and speaking the truth!" Old Mrs. Yeats felt perfectly justified. "Besides, Estelle hasn’t even said a word. What are you getting so worked up about?"

Estelle Lockwood glanced over, sweeping her eyes across the greasy man before chuckling. "Old Mrs. Yeats, it’s not like I have the stomach for just anyone. I thought everyone knew that."

The crowd fell speechless. They thought that although her words were blunt, they made perfect sense. But still, she was being far too crude about it. Then again, she had a valid point.

Even if Estelle had met a man during those five years... her husband was Nathaniel Sloan, and she was acquainted with Henry Kendrick. Taking a massive step back, if Estelle had genuinely found a new love and wanted to be with another man, couldn’t it have been Henry, or some other young, talented elite? With the Kendrick family backing her, what kind of man couldn’t she get? Why would she settle for this greasy sleazebag?

Old Mrs. Yeats wasn’t treating Estelle like a granddaughter at all; she was practically treating her like an enemy.

Quentin Yeats stepped in front of Estelle and ordered coldly, "Throw him out."

Claire Yeats’s eyes darted around as she anxiously tugged at Old Mrs. Yeats’s sleeve.

Right on cue, Old Mrs. Yeats charged onto the front lines for her again. "Quentin, what are you panicking for? Are you trying to cover up for Estelle? Maybe she just has a fetish for ugly men! She’s a country bumpkin, what kind of taste did you expect her to have?"

Without giving anyone else a chance to speak, Old Mrs. Yeats immediately turned to the greasy man sprawled on the floor, her tone softening considerably. "Don’t worry. Estelle is my granddaughter. If you have suffered any grievances, spit them out!"

"Grandma!" Quentin said sternly.

Old Mrs. Yeats dismissed him without a second thought. "Quentin, what if he’s telling the truth? How did we raise you? You must stand on the side of reason, not just blindly side with family, understand? If Estelle really dated him, spent all his money, and then kicked him to the curb, what does that make her if not a scammer? Our Yeats family cannot afford to lose such face!"

Claire bit her lip, a flicker of sadistic pleasure flashing through her eyes. She reasoned that she wasn’t necessarily trying to drive Estelle to a dead end. It was modern society, after all; having messy relationships wasn’t a crime punishable by death. She just wanted Estelle’s reputation ruined. Besides, she couldn’t be blamed for this. Estelle and her mother had left the Yeats family for so many years; why did they insist on coming back? Weren’t they just standing in her way? Moreover, she would compensate Estelle later anyway.

Ignoring all attempts to stop her, Old Mrs. Yeats’s eyes gleamed with excitement. "Hurry, speak! Tell us everything!"

Nathaniel’s gaze darkened. The veins on Quentin’s forehead throbbed, and Henry’s expression grew increasingly glacial.

Estelle found the entire spectacle rather amusing. She spoke in a slow, measured tone, "Old Mrs. Yeats is right about one thing. This man really shouldn’t leave."

"If he leaves, people might think I have a guilty conscience," she added, lowering her eyes with a faint smile. "So, Quentin, there’s no need to rush."

Hearing this, Quentin nodded and stepped back.

Claire vaguely sensed that something was wrong, but Old Mrs. Yeats was practically buzzing with excitement.

The greasy man’s eyes darted wildly. "Estelle! You’ve finally come around, haven’t you? You can’t handle a man like Nathaniel Sloan, so you still love me the most, right? I know, I know everything, Estelle. I don’t mind that you’ve slept with so many other men, and you—"

"I’ve been meaning to ask." Estelle tilted her head. "Is it really worth throwing away the rest of your life for just a few tens of thousands?"

A sudden silence fell over the room. The bystanders were utterly baffled. They wondered what she meant by him throwing away the rest of his life for a few tens of thousands.

Old Mrs. Yeats sneered in contempt, "Estelle Lockwood, do you think everyone is as greedy as you, unable to walk straight at the sight of money? I think—"

Estelle raised an eyebrow, looking at her with keen interest. "What’s the rush, Old Mrs. Yeats? Choosing to sling mud at me over those five years I was abroad actually makes a lot of sense.

"After all, in the narrow minds of some people, a woman moving to a foreign country with her children simply cannot survive without a man.

"But whoever orchestrated this little show clearly didn’t know about my relationship with the Kendrick family. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have been stupid enough to claim in front of them that I was so destitute during those five years that I had to offer myself to a jobless, unattractive creep."

Old Mrs. Yeats gritted her teeth and shrieked, "Stop making excuses—"

"You claim I spent your money for those five years, that you helped me raise my children, and that I ultimately kicked you to the curb?" Estelle crouched down, asking with immense curiosity. "Then how much of your money did I spend? What were the living expenses for me and the kids like?"

The greasy man swallowed hard, his eyes shifting erratically. "You... you always spent money without any restraint! You completely drained all the money we had!"

"Well, that’s strange." Estelle looked intrigued. "During those five years, your only job was chopping vegetables at a hotpot restaurant. Could that job really support my spending habits?"

Henry chimed in with a cold sneer, "Exactly. You certainly couldn’t afford Estelle and the kids’ expenses during those five years."

Cold sweat poured down the man’s forehead. "Th-that’s because you were spending the Kendrick family’s money at the same time! Yes, yes! That’s exactly how it was!"

"Oh... You said we shared a bed, but did you not know I have a company under my name?" Estelle smiled. "I didn’t need to spend the Kendrick family’s money, and I certainly didn’t care for your meager salary."

Quentin scoffed. "While I may not know much about Estelle’s past, I am very well aware of Star’s profit margins.

"Are you telling me that the chairman of Star turned a blind eye to all her wealth, just so she could spend your monthly salary of three thousand, dragging her children along to offer herself to you for such a paltry sum?"

The greasy man choked on his words, instantly rendered speechless.

Estelle laughed again, drawling, "Furthermore, the entire premise of your story relies on you being abroad as well...

"After all, everyone knows that I was overseas for those entire five years, right?

"But guess what I found out?"

Estelle stood up, looking down at the greasy man from above. "Five years ago, you were at a hotpot restaurant in Crestfall. Four years ago, the police were called on you for theft, but because the amount was small, it was settled privately. Three years ago, you and a bunch of thugs robbed some students in Crestfall; you were caught by the school security guards and sent to the police station again.

"Two years ago and one year ago, you made appearances in Crestfall, while I was in the USA that entire time."

Estelle tilted her head. "How strange. How did you manage to teleport across the world to be with me in the USA?"

Panic-stricken, the greasy man subconsciously looked toward Third Aunt Yeats.

Estelle nodded and sighed helplessly. "This is why I told you not to rush, Old Mrs. Yeats. You refused to listen to my explanation for a lie so easily debunked, and now you’ve embarrassed yourself, haven’t you?"

Old Mrs. Yeats’s face turned livid.

Someone in the crowd chuckled aloud. What she said was true. This man clearly didn’t know the first thing about Estelle Lockwood. He didn’t even know she had been living abroad; all he knew was that she had ’divorced’ Nathaniel Sloan.