Chapter 321

Just as Attlee was about to speak, he was cut off by her angry roar: “All of you, get out!”

Olga wasn’t satisfied and angrily questioned her, “Are you not showing your money now because you

want to leave it to Arabella?”

“Who I want to leave my money to is my business, none of yours! If you don’t leave, I’ll call for help!”

Seeing Grace’s explosive temper and her incessant cough, Attlee quickly dragged Olga out of the

room.

“Don’t yell at her, if you annoy her to the point of something bad happening, we won’t get a single

thing!”

“How’s that possible?” A vicious glint flashed in Olga’s eyes. “Isn’t it right and lawful for you, her only

son, to inherit her wealth after Grace passes away?”

She wished Grace would just die already, so she wouldn’t have to keep coming to the hospital.

Olga thought about it and found it to make sense.

She must not let Arabella get the upper hand!

“Let’s go,” Attlee, holding Olga’s hand, sighed. “We’ll come back when Grace has cooled down.”

“Stop dragging me.”

After a few steps, they noticed Yolanda was still standing there, her eyes filled with tears of grievance.

Attlee turned back, puzzled. “Yoli, what’s wrong?”

Yolanda’s tears finally fell as she said pitifully, “Grannie Grace only has Bella in her heart. Is it because

I haven’t been doing enough to win Grannie Grace’s favor? Dad, I’m sorry, I’ve embarrassed you.”

Her voice was thick with the urge to cry.

Attlee’s heart ached, and he went over to comfort her. “It’s not your fault; you’ve been doing great.

Bella must have used some tricks.”

She must be buttering up Grace a lot; old folks love kids who do that!

“We’re busy and haven’t been coming here; that gave her the chance.” That’s what Attlee thought.

Yolanda, her eyes filled with tears, asked innocently, “So, if I learn from Arabella, visit Grannie Grace

often. Even if Grannie Grace scolds or hits me, I’ll bear it silently. Will Grannie Grace like me then? If

so, I’ll come every day!”

“Why would you ever want to learn from Arabella? She’s not worth a hair on your head!” Olga stepped

forward, taking her hand. “Let’s go home; we’ll have someone cook you something nice.”

“We can’t go home yet; I have an idea.” Attlee suddenly whispered something in Olga’s ear.

Just as Arabella arrived at the office entrance, a group of people rushed up to her.

“Ms. Bella, hello, I’m the assistant to Tracy, the vice president of the Solterra Fashion Association, and

a renowned designer. Do you have a moment to listen to what I have to say?”

The speaker was a twenty–something girl who looked fresh out of college, still carrying a youthful

innocence.

“Go ahead.” Bella responded calmly, her expression unchanging.

The girl was taken aback; normally, hearing of Tracy’s position would have shocked her.

But Arabella’s reaction was so casual, as if she had met even more important designers.

Feeling awkward, the assistant quickly explained her purpose. “Actually, when you were accompanying

Designer Molly to the National Design Competition, Tracy noticed your talent. She thinks it’s a waste for

you to be just a small assistant and wants to personally mentor you to make a name for yourself in the

design industry! Are you interested?”