Chapter 874: 434: A Child with a Father Is a Precious Treasure (Part 3)

Walking with a sway, Ruby Sheldon is such a waste, not having learned even a tenth of her parents’ qualities. Lawrence Winters looked up at Autumn Stetford’s back, shaking his head lightly.

Spring Spencer didn’t say a word throughout dinner, adhering to the old rule of not speaking while eating or resting.

Lawrence Winters looked at her with newfound respect.

After dinner, Ava Harlow and Spring Spencer went to another small building, no longer staying in the residence.

Once she returned to her room, she packed her things, wanting to buy a ticket to go back home.

But Ava Harlow firmly disagreed, so she had to put the idea aside for now, focusing on watching the Big Chief competition before planning her return.

Ava Harlow especially reminded her, "I begged my cousin for a long time to get you this opportunity. Don’t you want to meet some powerful Feng Shui Masters? Do you really not want to go back to the Spencer Family?"

Spring Spencer sighed, "Mom, I’ve already given up my inheritance rights to the Spencer Family. But I can use this opportunity to meet more Feng Shui Masters. Such extraordinary people, the more, the better."

She would never forget that the Spencer Family’s first fortune was linked to these extraordinary individuals.

...

Early the next morning, a black customized Mercedes van drove past the asphalt road at the entrance of the Stetford Family mansion.

This car was obviously custom-made, the entire body made of top-grade bulletproof materials, the windows were one-way dark tea-colored glass, allowing visibility from inside but not from outside.

The vehicle was longer than a typical van, with a higher chassis, looking luxurious and grand, yet sturdy and durable.

This was the exclusive car of Mr. Grant, one of the three elders of the Grant Branch.

He stepped out from the car, looked up at the Stetford mansion with its four Roman-style marble columns, then, slightly awed, he turned away and called back to the car, "Bring them down."

Seven or eight people came out from the car, among them two were tightly bound with ropes, walking timidly, their arms tied behind, looking dejected.

Mr. Grant nodded and turned to speak to the guard at the mansion entrance, "Young man, we are here to see Mr. Evan."

The guard quickly contacted the inside of the mansion, received permission, and opened the electronic gate.

The large iron gate slowly opened inward, revealing a spacious driveway inside.

But Mr. Grant and his people were not allowed to drive into the Stetford Family mansion.

Only the Stetford Family’s own vehicles were allowed into the mansion.

Even the President would have to walk in.

Mr. Grant was no exception, and he was accustomed to it, stepping inside without hesitation.

Twenty minutes later, they finally arrived at the foot of the mansion’s front steps.

Standing here, those Roman marble columns appeared even more imposing.

The two bound individuals were even more terrified, bent over like shrimps, trembling.

Mr. Grant ascended the steps, his entourage waiting at the base.

Other members of the Stetford Family came forward, assisting him in escorting the two bound people up.

They didn’t enter the living room but instead went through the side door adjacent to the hallway into Evan Stetford’s office area in the wing of the mansion.

Evan Stetford had received word early on that Mr. Grant had located the mastermind behind the "shooter incident" and had delivered them.

He even notified Lawrence Winters to join in.

Sitting behind his office desk, hearing people enter, Evan Stetford raised his head towards the door.

Lawrence Winters sat in the swivel chair to the left of the desk, now turned 180 degrees from facing Evan to facing the door.

They saw the two people standing behind Mr. Grant, their arms bound and bodies bent.

"Mr. Grant, please have a seat." Evan Stetford pointed to a chair in front of his desk.

Mr. Grant nodded slightly, "Thank you, Mr. Evan."

He sat down in the chair, pointing to the bound person on the left, "This is Aaron Walton. He was the one who read Maria’s fortune that day. The one on the right is Old Cao, who was the middleman that helped find the shooter."

Evan Stetford nodded, "The shooter is already in my hands. Does this middleman know about my Chinatown ban?"

Old Cao frantically said, "I beg Mr. Evan for mercy! I’ll never dare again! I’ll hand over all the money! I’ll hand over everything!"

"What use is your money to me? All I know is that my Stetford Family’s hundred-year rule was broken by the likes of you." Evan Stetford said indifferently, clasping his hands before him, resting his elbows on the armrests of the chair, looking down at Old Cao.

Old Cao fell to his knees with a thud, tears and snot streaming down, "Mr. Evan! I was momentarily blinded by greed! I really don’t know why I helped Aaron Walton find a shooter! I was enchanted by him!"

Evan Stetford didn’t bother listening to his defense, waved his hand dismissively, and said coldly, "Drag him away, let him feed the fish along with the shooter he found."

Lawrence Winters watched in shock, wanting to say something, but after several tries, he remained silent.

This was indeed Evan Stetford’s domain, and as the Stetford Family did its business, where was an outsider’s voice necessary?

Yet she didn’t like this method very much.

But there didn’t seem to be a better alternative.

You can’t exactly expect a family like the Stetfords to hold court with lawyers for debate, right?

That would be setting up a private court; feeding fish seemed more direct.

Thinking this way, she felt at ease again.

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This is the third update.

Today is the first day of June, also Monday, asking for monthly and recommendation votes!

Group kisses!