Madeline Crawford and Jeremy Whitman novel Chapter 891

Chapter 891

In a tailored limited edition suit, Felipe’s elegant appearance and aura made him look like he had just walked out of a comic.

He looked precisely like the stereotypical cool and unfeeling type of character.

Was he not the same man Yui and her mother called a ‘hobo’ yesterday?

Both Yui and her mother were stunned.

As he strode forward, Felipe glanced at the two women in front of him and parted his lips to instruct, “Throw everything in the house. Don’t let unnecessary people stand in the way.”

“Understood, Mr. Whitman.”

Following their orders, his subordinates quickly entered the house to throw everything out.

Meanwhile, Felipe walked inside without a care.

“Hey! How can you call people to throw my things out? Who do you think you are…”

Yui’s mother spoke, and Felipe slowly turned to look at her.

His handsome side profile was gentle, but the corners of his eyes were sharp and cold. “This is my wife’s home. I’m merely taking back what belonged to her.”

Yui’s mother was enraged. “What do you mean belonged to her? Her parents died more than a decade ago, even the damned girl is now dead too. You think that just because you rented a few cars and called a few people over that you can try and steal my house? You think you’re some bossy CEO from a TV series?”

While his expression was already cold to begin with, the woman’s use of such words to describe Cathy and the mention of her death had his aura turning downright frosty.

“Say one more word and I’ll have you join my wife in the afterlife.”

“…’

Yui’s mother gulped frantically. She still believed that Felipe was faking it, but his bloodthirst was real.

A few days later, a subordinate went to look for him frantically. “Master Whitman, something went wrong with the order for the clients from the RS. Everything we sent them turned out to be scraps. They’re certain that we’re trying to scam them and are requiring that we send them a new batch.”

Having promised Cathy to never do such trades again, Felipe replied faintly, “Send a notice for me that from now on, I, Felipe Whitman, will no longer take part in the workings of the company. All of you are dismissed. I will deal with the aftermath for the clients from the RS.”

The subordinate’s expression shifted. “Master Whitman, this—”

“Leave me alone.”

He turned and left with an indifferent expression, locking himself in the room.

The moment his notice was sent, his subordinates flared with fury.

“What? He’s dismissing the company?”

“Why won’t he do such a big trade?”