With the trail gone cold, Estelle wasn’t anxious. Taking her time to investigate would eventually yield results. But while Estelle wasn’t in a hurry, Claire Yeats was losing her mind.
"Mom, how could the things my teacher left me belong to Estelle’s grandfather?!" Claire paced around her room in a frenzy. When her teacher left those design blueprints, she had explicitly told Claire she could use them however she pleased. Those designs were more than enough to make her a legend in the design world. Yet, she had only used a few, and it had completely backfired on her because of Estelle.
Third Aunt Yeats was equally frantic. "Claire, forget about Estelle for now. Your grandfather is about to leave for Crestfall to acknowledge that low-class tramp of an heiress! What are you going to do when that happens?"
"What? Grandpa is going there himself?" Claire’s face instantly paled. Her heart seethed with jealousy and hatred as she thought, "She’s just some gutter-born heiress who has been wandering out there for years! Since she’s already lost to the world, why bother bringing her back? What if she’s just some dumpster diver who can’t even present herself properly in high society? Wouldn’t the Yeats family feel humiliated bringing someone like that back? I was born into the Yeats family. If that old coot, Old Mr. Yeats, wants a granddaughter so badly, couldn’t he just look at me?"
Knowing her daughter’s temper, Third Aunt Yeats hurriedly soothed her. "Claire, at the end of the day, you’re the one who has been by Old Mr. Yeats’ side all these years. Just play the victim and act sweet. Do you really think he could just ignore you?"
"I want to be the sole heiress of the Yeats family! Do you understand?! Just me!" Claire roared impatiently. "Why are you two so useless? Why couldn’t I have been born to Eleanor Yeats?!"
Left with no other option, Third Aunt Yeats could only coax her. "Claire, I heard the old man doesn’t want to stay in a hotel, but the Yeats’ villa in Crestfall is too large and empty. When the time comes, you can accompany him and stay at the villa. That way, you’ll be right by his side. Even if he acknowledges that street trash, at least you’ll be the one keeping him company!
"Oh, right! Go over to the Crestfall villa right now and spruce it up. Make sure you tell him you decorated it yourself. The old man is bound to be touched!"
Claire’s eyes darted around as she considered it. That made sense. As long as Old Mr. Yeats doted on her, the Yeats family would remain her biggest crutch.
Claire immediately set off for the Yeats’ villa in Crestfall. Meanwhile, Third Uncle Yeats and Third Aunt Yeats rushed to find Old Mr. Yeats.
"That girl, Claire, heard you were heading to Crestfall. Worried that you might not be comfortable, she went over overnight to set up the villa," Third Uncle Yeats said, polishing his daughter’s image. "Look at how filial she is!"
Old Mr. Yeats shot him a half-smile. "Is that so? How come I heard Claire has been staying in a luxury hotel that costs two hundred thousand a night?"
Third Uncle Yeats couldn’t quite read the old man’s tone. Was he mocking Claire for wasting money? But two hundred thousand was pocket change to the Yeats family. He chose his words carefully. "Well... wouldn’t staying in that huge villa all by herself be too lonely? But if you go to Crestfall, it’ll be a different story."
"Then there’s no need to worry about it," Old Mr. Yeats replied slowly. "I already have a place to stay."
Worried that Claire’s plan was falling apart, Third Uncle Yeats hurriedly asked, "Where will you be staying?"
Old Mr. Yeats’ eyes turned sharp and icy. "Do I need to report to you?"
"No... that’s not what I meant." Third Uncle Yeats broke into a sweat. "What I meant was, you... you might not be used to staying elsewhere, and outsiders won’t be able to look after you as well as our Claire... Besides, Claire has plenty of free time anyway, so let her take care of you..."
Old Mr. Yeats said bluntly, "That won’t be necessary. If she has so much free time, she can go find something to do.
"I can get used to staying anywhere."
Third Uncle Yeats was rendered utterly speechless, his final excuse firmly shut down. He thought, "Still, Claire is a young lady of the Yeats family, which is far more presentable than that gutter-born trash raised on the streets. Give it a few days, and the old man will surely come to his senses!"
The next day, in Crestfall.
Old Mr. Yeats landed at the airport. Without contacting anyone, he changed into a set of ordinary clothes and headed straight to Estelle’s Star Group. Upon learning that Estelle wasn’t at the headquarters but at one of Star’s retail stores, the old man very fashionably hopped onto an electric scooter to get there.
Arriving at the entrance of the Star storefront, Old Mr. Yeats couldn’t help but marvel. As expected of his granddaughter—the shop looked extraordinary. This was Star’s flagship store, which Estelle visited once a week.
The shop was currently empty. Hearing the chime of the door, Estelle stood up. "Is there anything specific you’d like to look at, sir?"
Old Mr. Yeats asked with a beaming smile, "I’d like to buy a gift for my granddaughter. Do you have any recommendations?"
Since the salesclerks were out, Estelle, the chairman herself, had to step in. "How old is your granddaughter?"
"About the same age as you," Old Mr. Yeats replied.
Estelle nodded, then asked, "May I know what your budget is?" Star specialized in original designs, offering both high-end luxury pieces and affordable options, with prices varying by several or even dozens of times.
Old Mr. Yeats chuckled. "Naturally, I want to give her the absolute best."
"Understood," Estelle said. "Right this way, please."
Estelle had someone brew a pot of tea, then took several designer pieces from the display cabinets for the old man to peruse. Just then, the door was pushed open again.
"Ms. Laura, I heard Estelle’s store has stocked a lot of new arrivals. Oh, and there are several bags that look fantastic." Thea York pushed the door open and walked in alongside Laura Jennings.
Thea greeted Estelle with a bright smile, acting as if all their past unpleasantness had completely vanished. "Estelle! Ms. Laura mentioned she wanted a new bag, so I brought her here to take a look. Could you have someone bring out the newest styles?"
Laura stared at Estelle with dark, sinister eyes. Yesterday, she had tried to question Claire about something, only to be inexplicably berated. Naturally, she pinned the blame entirely on Estelle. She reasoned, "If Theodore hadn’t suggested that Estelle might be a member of the Yeats family, I would never have gone to ask in the first place. So, of course, it’s all Estelle’s fault!" She had been in a foul mood ever since, which was why Thea offered to take her out shopping for some bags.
Estelle raised an eyebrow.
Thea feigned a good-natured tone. "Estelle, are you with a customer? That’s fine, go ahead and do your thing. We can browse by ourselves." She then pointed at a salesclerk. "Hey, you. Bring over every color of those newly arrived bags so we can take a look."
The clerk looked at Estelle, then back at Thea. "I’m very sorry, Miss York. All of the bags in our store are sold out."
"Nonsense!" Laura immediately scowled. "They’re brand-new arrivals, how could they possibly be sold out? You’re doing this on purpose, Estelle!"
"Did I or did I not say that the Sloans and dogs are barred from entry?" Estelle remarked coolly.
Furious, Laura sputtered, "You!"
"Estelle, how could you say such a thing?" Thea put on a wounded expression. "Ms. Laura is your mother-in-law, and I’m your friend. Regardless of whatever misunderstandings we’ve had in the past, you can’t just humiliate us in front of an outsider like this."
She spoke as if they were the ones in the right.
Sipping his tea, Old Mr. Yeats furrowed his brow and glanced at Laura and Thea. The eyes of these two women were brimming with calculation. He didn’t like them one bit.