Chapter 486: Deliberately Making Her Leave a Bad Impression on Old Mr. Yeats

Chapter 486: Chapter 486: Deliberately Making Her Leave a Bad Impression on Old Mr. Yeats

Blondie immediately spat, "She escaped. No way, we have to find her!"

"Exactly! We absolutely can’t let her go. Claire got sick because of her."

"It’s all this bitch’s fault! She just had to celebrate her birthday at the exact same time as our Claire’s victory banquet! Does she really need this birthday that badly? Is she in a rush to die?!"

"What about the car?"

"Smash it!"

"Haha! I heard this car is worth tens of millions. Smash it to pieces!"

"Yeah! Claire said we’re minors, so a little mistake won’t matter. Let Estelle Lockwood consider herself unlucky!"

Estelle quietly recorded a video. Right at that moment, the nearby Blondie suddenly looked over.

"Estelle Lockwood is over there! After her!"

"Don’t let her get away! Stall for time!"

Over a dozen teenagers charged forward, brandishing iron pipes. Their faces were twisted in ferocity as they shouted slogans about "avenging Claire" and screamed for blood.

Estelle’s heart leaped. The moment the iron pipes swung her way, she dodged sideways through a doorway and immediately called the police.

"Argh! Come out, you bitch!"

"Fuck, we didn’t kill her! I told you we should have brought acid! You just wouldn’t listen!"

"Where would we even easily get acid?"

"Didn’t Claire say she’d give us some?! Now that Estelle Lockwood has escaped, what do we do?!"

Nathaniel Sloan pulled Estelle into his arms. The two of them listened to the commotion outside from behind the iron door of the underground garage. "Claire Yeats’s people?" he asked softly.

Estelle, on the other hand, was quite calm. "Yeah. Let’s just wait for the police."

"Are they after money, or your life?"

Estelle’s eyes shifted. "If they were after money, they wouldn’t have smashed my car. They listened to Claire and came to cause me trouble, thinking that smashing my car would be the most satisfying and direct method. However, they probably didn’t consider how much this car costs."

Nathaniel narrowed his eyes. "Minors? It doesn’t matter. I’ll make them pay the price."

"Huh...?" Estelle suddenly looked down in confusion.

Nathaniel lowered his gaze and saw a scratch on her palm. His pupils constricted. "You’re hurt?"

"No, I’m not..."

Nathaniel’s lips drew into a tight line. "I’ll take you to get it bandaged."

Estelle coughed. "There’s no need. No, this..." Wait, she hadn’t even noticed the scratch on her palm herself. It didn’t hurt at all, and there wasn’t much blood. She had just been shocked for a second, but why was Nathaniel so anxious? If left alone any longer, the scratch would scab over by itself.

BEEP BEEP BEEP. Just then, a phone rang.

It was a call from Zane Grant.

"Nathaniel, where are you and Estelle? The Head of the Yeats threw a massive fit when Estelle didn’t show up."

Nathaniel suddenly narrowed his eyes, as if connecting the dots. "Are they still at Veridian Retreat?"

"Yeah," Zane said, sounding thoroughly amused. "They finally decided to call you guys over for a meal after the dishes were already served. When you didn’t arrive, Claire said she wouldn’t eat. Fine, don’t eat, but then she claimed she had a stomach condition, and that her stomach acted up because Estelle was putting on airs by refusing to come. I mean, listen to that logic—even a dog would roll its eyes at that kind of logic! Yet Old Mr. Yeats actually believed her. He demanded to know if Estelle was deliberately disrespecting him as an elder."

Nathaniel suddenly understood what those fans meant by "stalling for time." His brows darkened as he scoffed. "Got it. Let Old Mr. Yeats wait."

After hanging up, Estelle suddenly reached out and wrapped her arm tightly from wrist to elbow. "Someone doesn’t want me to show up, or they want me to leave a terrible impression on Old Mr. Yeats. Let’s see who ends up with the short end of the stick."

The police arrived quickly. The minors had transfer records on their phones, along with chat logs showing someone claiming to be Claire’s assistant instigating them to cause trouble for Estelle. Combined with Estelle’s video and audio recordings, the teenagers were swiftly taken into custody.

Since no one was hurt and the perpetrators were minors, it normally would have just been a matter of waiting for their parents to bail them out and settle. However, Estelle demanded compensation.

The smashed car was worth forty-six million. After being mercilessly beaten with iron pipes by over a dozen people, it was now practically scrap metal. Paying for damaged property was only right and proper. The teenagers could use their status as minors to escape legal punishment, but their parents couldn’t escape the financial liability.

Consequently, the entire police station devolved into utter chaos.

Nathaniel looked down at her and said, "That person only claimed to be Claire’s assistant without giving a name. Claire can completely deny it."

Estelle smiled faintly. "Yes, but so what? Faced with an astronomical compensation fee, do you think the parents of these minors won’t pursue this to the bitter end? Whether this person is actually Claire’s assistant or an impostor, they will be found. When that time comes, I refuse to believe this matter won’t trace back to Claire in some way."

Meanwhile, at Veridian Retreat.

This private restaurant boasted excellent external privacy, making it a favorite among many celebrities and wealthy individuals. Internally, however, due to its design elements, there were no absolutely private dining rooms. Spaces were primarily divided by folding screens.

Since the patrons here were mostly familiar with one another, as soon as an unfamiliar face in Crestfall like Zion Yeats took a seat, he drew quite a few stares.

"That’s the Head of the Yeats and Mr. Yeats."

"Yes, and Miss Claire."

"Speaking of which, does Claire still have the nerve to..."

"Shh!"

Zion’s expression turned cold. It was exactly as Evan had said: because of Estelle’s deliberate difficulties, Claire had lost face in high society.

"Aren’t all the dishes served? Why aren’t they eating?"

"It seems they’re waiting for someone..."

Zion frowned as he looked toward Zane. "Where on earth is Estelle? The food has gone cold. Where is she?"

Did she know Claire was here and deliberately refuse to come just to assert dominance? If that was truly the case, she was going too far!

Zane was speechless. He spoke faintly, "Old Mr. Yeats, it’s only been ten minutes since the dishes were served. You all only thought of inviting Miss Lockwood to dine with you after the food arrived. It takes more than ten minutes just to drive here. Do you... have no concept of time whatsoever?"

"Pfft..." Someone nearby burst out laughing.

They initially thought the members of the Yeats family had arranged to dine here and that Estelle was simply late. They didn’t expect that it was only after ordering and receiving the food that Old Mr. Yeats suddenly remembered Estelle was the true eldest daughter of the Yeats family, and that as the Family Head, it was necessary for him to meet her.

So he invited Estelle over at the last minute. If you invite someone on a whim, they have to put down whatever work they’re doing, arrange their schedule, head out, and drive over, right? With Crestfall’s traffic, arriving within half an hour would be a miracle.

You waited for ten minutes, and now you’re complaining about why she hasn’t arrived yet? What, is she a mind reader? Was she supposed to leave early for an appointment she didn’t even know about?

Sensing the gazes around him, Zion’s expression stiffened for a moment.

"Ugh..." Right then, Claire suddenly clutched her stomach. She bit her lower lip tightly, a cold sweat breaking out on her forehead.