Chapter 402: Old Mrs. Yeats, Who Do You Hate?

Chapter 402: Chapter 402: Old Mrs. Yeats, Who Do You Hate?

"Old Mrs. Yeats, you’re way too biased!"

"Exactly! All the trouble today was caused by you and your precious grandchildren!"

"This matter should have just been left to Estelle Lockwood. But no, you had to ruin the partnership for Claire’s sake! You believed every word she said. You old fool!"

"Claire, I bet you did this on purpose! You knew full well your White Jade Token was the fake, yet you deliberately misled us and made Old Mrs. Yeats smash the Green Jade Token. What are you scheming?!"

"Can you really not stand seeing the Yeats Group succeed?"

"I don’t think it’s about the Yeats Group; she just can’t stand seeing Estelle succeed! She wanted nothing more than for Estelle to lose this partnership, and then broadcast the reason to the world so everyone would think Estelle is unpresentable and inferior to her!"

"To sacrifice everyone’s interests for your own selfish gains... Claire, how could you be so selfish?!"

"And what’s this about Claire being deceived? How old is she to still be falling for scams? She needs her head checked!"

"It’s obvious that Claire and Evan conspired against Estelle, yet Old Mrs. Yeats actually bought it... What did we shareholders do to deserve this?"

Earlier, when the shareholders thought Estelle had caused them to lose money, they had hurled abuse at her. Now, the tables had turned.

Estelle’s lips curled into a faint smile. Since Claire had wanted to use these shareholders from the very beginning, it was only fitting that she suffered the backlash now, wasn’t it?

Claire trembled violently, breaking out in a cold sweat. She stumbled, barely able to keep her footing.

She silently cursed the shareholders for being idiots. They were a bunch of useless parasites who only knew how to take and never contribute; what right did they have to point fingers at her?

But what was she supposed to do now?

Old Mrs. Yeats found it hard to defend herself. Flustered and exasperated, she yelled, "Estelle Lockwood! I... Claire also... I didn’t know you were telling the truth! Why didn’t you explain it clearly? If you had just explained a little more, I might have believed you! This whole mess... at most, you and Claire are equally at fault!"

"Why exactly are you targeting me so relentlessly, Old Mrs. Yeats?" Estelle asked directly, her tone flat. "I was the one who secured the partnership, and she was the one who ruined it. I was the one in contact with Aethel, and she was the one who offended him. On what grounds do you think we should share the blame?"

Old Mrs. Yeats stammered, "At the time... you just... you shouldn’t have..."

"I shouldn’t have exposed Evan for my father’s sake? I shouldn’t have stripped Evan of his ’Genius Painter’ title, so that now, whenever people mention him, they only think of him as the art thief?"

Old Mrs. Yeats’ face flushed crimson with rage. "You!"

Before the old woman could say another word, Estelle continued, "You feel that as long as I didn’t expose Evan, the person Mr. Lynch sought out for the partnership would naturally be him, making Claire the rightful person in charge."

Old Mrs. Yeats mumbled a weak retort, "Claire and Evan only wanted to prove themselves! What did they do wrong? You’re clearly the one in the wrong! If you had just..."

"And you also feel that even if I were the person in charge, when you were about to smash the Green Jade Token today, I should have stopped you and put on a tearful performance of ’laying my life on the line for the jade token’?"

Old Mrs. Yeats was practically shaking with anger. "You... you should have thrown yourself over the jade token to protect it!"

Estelle didn’t give her an ounce of respect. "Shut up. Did I say you could speak? A thief and a jealous, pathological liar who ruined a partnership are somehow being placed on the same level as me. They did nothing wrong, and the fault lies entirely with me, the person actually in charge.

"I shouldn’t have exposed the truth. Seeking justice for my father was a mistake. After all, the dead are dead, so I might as well have handed everything over to your precious grandson. Is that what you mean?"

Old Mrs. Yeats wanted to say yes. After all, shouldn’t what belonged to Eleanor Yeats and Silas Lockwood rightfully belong to the Yeats Family?

However, she caught sight of the crowd’s expressions.

Aside from the shareholders and a few sycophants trying to curry favor with the Yeats Family, the rest of the attendees were relatively normal people. At this moment, their eyes were filled with disdain, contempt, and utter disbelief.

Was this how a normal person thought? Evan Yeats had stolen the belongings of Estelle’s deceased father, yet Old Mrs. Yeats expected her to just swallow her anger, ’get along well’ with Evan, and even offer her ’smiling blessings.’

When Claire Yeats spread rumors and slandered her, the old woman had the audacity to ask why Estelle hadn’t risked her life to prove her innocence.

A moment later, Estelle asked with a half-smile, "Old Mrs. Yeats, I’ve only been back with the Yeats Family for a month. In this past month, we haven’t exactly spent much time together. Why do you hate me so much?

"I can understand why Evan and Claire are hostile toward me. One thinks Old Mr. Yeats dotes on me too much and is afraid I’ll split the Yeats Family fortune with him, while the other feels I’ve stolen her position as Miss Yeats.

"Their hatred at least has a source. ℴ

"But you and I have no conflict of interest whatsoever. In fact, my return has brought numerous benefits to the Yeats Family. When Old Mr. Yeats brought up the idea of searching for me, you didn’t object. So why..."

Estelle chuckled. "Did you suddenly become so hostile toward me?

"Or, let me phrase it differently. Is the person you’re actually hostile toward really me?"

The entire venue fell dead silent once more.

Old Mrs. Yeats’ face turned a sickly shade of pale, looking as if she had been forced into a corner. "Shut... shut up..."

"You’re feeling guilty, Old Mrs. Yeats. It seems I guessed right. The person you hate truly isn’t me, which means it must be someone connected to me—oh... The person you hate is my mother?"

The crowd froze in shock, instinctively turning their gaze to Old Mrs. Yeats.

Eleanor Yeats was the daughter of Old Mr. Yeats’ younger brother. Old Mr. Yeats and his brother had grown up together and shared a deep bond. In fact, his brother had died saving him.

Back then, many people gossiped that the Second Young Master of the Yeats Family had gone out on a trip and brought back a daughter, with no one knowing who her biological mother was. But Old Mr. Yeats—who was still the First Young Master of the Yeats Family at the time—hadn’t minded at all.

During a car accident, the Second Young Master had saved his older brother. The Second Young Master had never been in good health to begin with; he was born sickly and had grown up to work as a researcher. He lived his entire life as a gentle and courteous man. The most scandalous thing he had ever done was having a daughter out of wedlock. After his death, the First Young Master took his brother’s daughter in and raised her as if she were his own.

When Eleanor Yeats was a child, Old Mr. Yeats never told her that he wasn’t her biological father, and she remained completely oblivious to the truth. At the time, he felt that a young child would be devastated to learn her real father was dead. He had planned to tell her when she was a little older.

However, the secret was suddenly leaked, and the person who leaked it...

Old Mrs. Yeats gritted her teeth, her features twisting ferociously. "Estelle Lockwood! I have no idea what you’re talking about!"

"I remember you used to have quite a good reputation, Old Mrs. Yeats. And the source of that ’good reputation’ was the fact that you and Old Mr. Yeats raised my mother together.

"People said that even though you and my mother shared no blood relation, and she was merely your husband’s niece, you still treated her like your own daughter. Everyone praised you for your kind heart.

"But why does it seem... like you deeply resent me for being Eleanor Yeats’ daughter?"