Chapter 389

Harrison and Rosalind climbed into the car and drove away, leaving Nathaniel and Alistair standing outside. Nathaniel studied Alistair with narrowed eyes. "Uncle Alistair, what's gotten into you?"

Only when Harrison's car had vanished down the street did Alistair finally look away. He turned to Nathaniel with a dismissive wave. "Nothing's wrong. I feel fantastic."

Nathaniel crossed his arms. "You might want to check the way you were fawning over Harrison just now."

He had never seen Alistair act like that before.

Alistair scoffed. "Fawning? I was merely showing proper respect. You wouldn’t understand."

Respect?

Nathaniel frowned. Why would Alistair show Harrison respect?

Something wasn’t adding up.

"I wanted to talk to Harrison, and you cut me off. I was going to ask if she’s been seeing Oliver."

At the mention of Oliver, Alistair nodded. "I believe she is."

Nathaniel’s curiosity sharpened. "Why do you say that?"

Alistair gave him a slow, assessing look before replying, "Because you’re not worthy of her. She deserves better."

With that, he turned and strode inside.

Nathaniel stood frozen, stunned.

What the hell was going on?

Since when did Alistair think he wasn’t good enough for Harrison?

Harrison stayed at Rosewood Manor that night. The next morning, her phone buzzed insistently, dragging her from sleep. Oliver’s name flashed on the screen.

She answered groggily. "Oliver?"

"Harrison, big news. The fake Dr. Sinclair fled."

She stretched lazily, unsurprised. She’d known the imposter would bolt eventually.

"He cleaned out the Whitmore family and vanished. This morning, the court and bank seized their estate, along with the second and third branches’ businesses. The Whitmores are finished—wiped out."

Harrison smirked. No sympathy stirred in her. She’d warned them, only to be laughed at.

"They destroyed themselves with greed and stupidity. Everyone pays for their choices."

Oliver chuckled. "Let’s enjoy the show. I can’t wait to see how they handle this."

At the Whitmore estate, chaos reigned. Margaret, along with the second and third branches—Theodore, Victoria, Isabella, Frederick, Cassandra, and Penelope—crowded the living room.

Court and bank officials plastered notices on the walls. Margaret, face flushed with fury, stormed toward them. "What do you think you're doing? This is my home! Get out now, or I’ll sue for trespassing!"

The court official barely glanced at her. "Go ahead. File your lawsuit."

Margaret gaped.

The bank official held out documents. "You signed everything over, including this estate. We’re legally repossessing it. Leave now, or we’ll remove you by force."

Margaret grabbed Penelope’s arm. "Penelope, explain this! Where’s Dr. Sinclair? Where’s our money?"

Penelope’s face was ghostly pale, her usual arrogance gone.

"Grandmother… I—I was scammed. That man wasn’t Dr. Sinclair. His real name is Abe McKinney. He took everything and disappeared."

What?

Isabella and Victoria looked like they’d been struck by lightning. They seized Penelope.

"You were scammed? Do you realize how much we invested? Our companies are mortgaged! You’ve ruined us! We’ve lost everything!"