Falling For My Ex's Uncle - Chapter 503: Chapter 503
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I slowly lifted my head, my gaze slightly unfocused as I glanced around. The stares from those around me pierced like needles. My throat felt blocked by something hard, leaving me unable to speak. A bitter and suffocating sensation spread within me.
The crowd surrounding me had different expressions. Some were filled with curiosity, and their eyes scrutinized me as if analyzing a puzzle.
Some were shocked, their faces reflecting disbelief yet still carrying that same expectant look.
However, some of the crowd displayed nothing but deep-seated malice and jealousy. Among this group of aristocrats, wealthy heirs, and influential figures, I was nothing more than an ugly duckling amidst a flock of swans—an intruder who did not belong.
Even though the Parks family had officially acknowledged me, I was still an outsider to them—unrefined and unworthy, despite the bloodline I carried.
The Brown family was considered insignificant in their eyes. To these people, the Shepherd family was the only family truly worthy of standing on equal footing with the Parks family.
And as for me, the so-called legitimate daughter of the Parks family? I was nothing more than a joke—an irrelevant existence.
Ever since Alex's accident, rumors had spread that I was a bringer of misfortune and that anyone who got close to me or treated me well would end up dead.
Angela was the prime example. Because she had spent the most time with me, she was the first to die.
Then came my own family—first, my mother, Yvette, and later, my husband, Alex.
And now, Jamilah, who had cared for me like her own daughter, was also gone.
Although I knew Alex had suppressed those rumors, I was painfully aware that, in the eyes of these people, I was still a curse—someone who had no right to stand among them.
Their politeness toward me was nothing more than a facade, either out of pretense or because they feared offending Alex.
But now, everything has changed. Alex was no longer the heir of the Herrera family. He might spend the rest of his life confined to a wheelchair, never able to stand again. Those who once feared or revered him would no longer hold him in any regard.
"Mom, what are you doing?" Marvin quickly stepped forward, grabbing Yvonne by the arm. His brows furrowed, his face filled with anxiety and helplessness.
"Mr. Lester is the company's lawyer. How could he possibly speak nonsense?" His voice was not loud, but in the solemn silence of the funeral, it was clear and distinct.
"Maybe he was paid off to say this," Yvonne said abruptly, shaking off Marvin's grip. Her expression twisting with anger, she shouted, her face contorting with fury.
She questioned, "What does Laurel have to do with the Adams family? What right does she have to inherit the Adams family's assets?"
Her sharp, grating voice drew the attention of those around us, making several people turn their heads.
"Paid off? I don't recall receiving any money," A cold voice interjected from the side, carrying a hint of laughter yet devoid of any warmth.
I turned toward the source of the voice and saw a tall man standing there. He wore a tailored suit that fit him perfectly, exuding elegance and confidence.
Gold-rimmed glasses rested on his face, and an expensive watch adorned his wrist. He looked no older than his early thirties. His demeanor was refined, but his deep-set eyes carried an unmistakable chill. He was undeniably handsome.
It was Carey Lester.
I finally remembered who he was—not because of his striking appearance, but because of his reputation.
It was said that years ago, in a highly publicized murder case, Carey had been the defense attorney for the accused. He had discovered crucial evidence that led to the suspect's acquittal.
I was slightly taken aback. I had not expected Carey to be so young, nor had I anticipated that he would be the legal representative for the Adams Group.
Michael quickly stepped forward, his face filled with an apologetic smile as he said, "Mr. Lester, I apologize. She's just emotionally unstable. Please don't take her words to heart."
As he spoke, he gently tugged at Yvonne's sleeve, signaling for her to stop causing a scene.
Yvonne's expression darkened, and her sharp gaze locked onto Michael. Just as she was about to retort, Marvin intervened, saying, "Mom, stop making a scene."
Marvin's voice carried a pleading tone, his eyes filled with helplessness and embarrassment as if he was utterly exhausted by his mother's behavior.
"How am I making a scene?" Yvonne fumed, "Jamilah died suddenly—how could she have left all her assets to Laurel?" Her eyes widened as she glared at me as if I had stolen everything that was rightfully hers, and her gaze was filled with resentment.
Carey adjusted his glasses lightly, sighing softly. Then he explained, "Ms. Jamilah transferred all of her assets to Laurel after her divorce from Michael.
"If you have any concerns, you're welcome to visit my firm on Monday to review the documents—provided you obtain Ms. Parks' permission.
Carey's statement instantly turned Yvonne into the target of the crowd's scrutiny.
There was a burst of discussion around them. Although there were rumors in the circle that Jamilah and Michael had divorced, only a few people knew about it, and most were skeptical. After all, the divorce had not been made public.
"No wonder someone was crying so desperately earlier. Turns out the golden goose just flew away," a sharp female voice muttered mockingly, deliberately glancing in Yvonne's direction.
"Does this mean the Adams Group will have to change its name soon?" a young man asked eagerly, his face alight with schadenfreude.
"Jamilah was truly ruthless—she'd rather leave her fortune to an outsider than let someone else have it," a middle-aged woman remarked, shaking her head with feigned regret.
Another added, "What, did you expect her to leave it to a mistress instead? The Adams Group only exists because of Jamilah's contributions."
Someone spoke with barely concealed indignation, their voice carrying both sympathy for Jamilah and disdain for Yvonne.
Yvonne, however, ignored the whispers and accusations around her.
She suddenly strode toward me, grabbed my hand, and challenged, "Laurel, you and Marvin grew up together. You wouldn't take what rightfully belongs to him, would you?"
Her attitude shifted dramatically, unconcerned about the onlookers' reactions.
At that moment, I suddenly found her both pitiful and pathetic.
Everything she had schemed and fought for meant nothing in Jamilah's eyes.
Whether it was Michael or the Adams Group, Jamilah had never truly cared.
"Mom, I've told you before—I never wanted anything," Marvin said firmly, his expression solemn.
Yvonne, enraged, snapped at him, "What do you know? Your father built the Adams Group from the ground up with hard work!"
The crowd surrounding me had different expressions. Some were filled with curiosity, and their eyes scrutinized me as if analyzing a puzzle.
Some were shocked, their faces reflecting disbelief yet still carrying that same expectant look.
However, some of the crowd displayed nothing but deep-seated malice and jealousy. Among this group of aristocrats, wealthy heirs, and influential figures, I was nothing more than an ugly duckling amidst a flock of swans—an intruder who did not belong.
Even though the Parks family had officially acknowledged me, I was still an outsider to them—unrefined and unworthy, despite the bloodline I carried.
The Brown family was considered insignificant in their eyes. To these people, the Shepherd family was the only family truly worthy of standing on equal footing with the Parks family.
And as for me, the so-called legitimate daughter of the Parks family? I was nothing more than a joke—an irrelevant existence.
Ever since Alex's accident, rumors had spread that I was a bringer of misfortune and that anyone who got close to me or treated me well would end up dead.
Angela was the prime example. Because she had spent the most time with me, she was the first to die.
Then came my own family—first, my mother, Yvette, and later, my husband, Alex.
And now, Jamilah, who had cared for me like her own daughter, was also gone.
Although I knew Alex had suppressed those rumors, I was painfully aware that, in the eyes of these people, I was still a curse—someone who had no right to stand among them.
Their politeness toward me was nothing more than a facade, either out of pretense or because they feared offending Alex.
But now, everything has changed. Alex was no longer the heir of the Herrera family. He might spend the rest of his life confined to a wheelchair, never able to stand again. Those who once feared or revered him would no longer hold him in any regard.
"Mom, what are you doing?" Marvin quickly stepped forward, grabbing Yvonne by the arm. His brows furrowed, his face filled with anxiety and helplessness.
"Mr. Lester is the company's lawyer. How could he possibly speak nonsense?" His voice was not loud, but in the solemn silence of the funeral, it was clear and distinct.
"Maybe he was paid off to say this," Yvonne said abruptly, shaking off Marvin's grip. Her expression twisting with anger, she shouted, her face contorting with fury.
She questioned, "What does Laurel have to do with the Adams family? What right does she have to inherit the Adams family's assets?"
Her sharp, grating voice drew the attention of those around us, making several people turn their heads.
"Paid off? I don't recall receiving any money," A cold voice interjected from the side, carrying a hint of laughter yet devoid of any warmth.
I turned toward the source of the voice and saw a tall man standing there. He wore a tailored suit that fit him perfectly, exuding elegance and confidence.
Gold-rimmed glasses rested on his face, and an expensive watch adorned his wrist. He looked no older than his early thirties. His demeanor was refined, but his deep-set eyes carried an unmistakable chill. He was undeniably handsome.
It was Carey Lester.
I finally remembered who he was—not because of his striking appearance, but because of his reputation.
It was said that years ago, in a highly publicized murder case, Carey had been the defense attorney for the accused. He had discovered crucial evidence that led to the suspect's acquittal.
I was slightly taken aback. I had not expected Carey to be so young, nor had I anticipated that he would be the legal representative for the Adams Group.
Michael quickly stepped forward, his face filled with an apologetic smile as he said, "Mr. Lester, I apologize. She's just emotionally unstable. Please don't take her words to heart."
As he spoke, he gently tugged at Yvonne's sleeve, signaling for her to stop causing a scene.
Yvonne's expression darkened, and her sharp gaze locked onto Michael. Just as she was about to retort, Marvin intervened, saying, "Mom, stop making a scene."
Marvin's voice carried a pleading tone, his eyes filled with helplessness and embarrassment as if he was utterly exhausted by his mother's behavior.
"How am I making a scene?" Yvonne fumed, "Jamilah died suddenly—how could she have left all her assets to Laurel?" Her eyes widened as she glared at me as if I had stolen everything that was rightfully hers, and her gaze was filled with resentment.
Carey adjusted his glasses lightly, sighing softly. Then he explained, "Ms. Jamilah transferred all of her assets to Laurel after her divorce from Michael.
"If you have any concerns, you're welcome to visit my firm on Monday to review the documents—provided you obtain Ms. Parks' permission.
Carey's statement instantly turned Yvonne into the target of the crowd's scrutiny.
There was a burst of discussion around them. Although there were rumors in the circle that Jamilah and Michael had divorced, only a few people knew about it, and most were skeptical. After all, the divorce had not been made public.
"No wonder someone was crying so desperately earlier. Turns out the golden goose just flew away," a sharp female voice muttered mockingly, deliberately glancing in Yvonne's direction.
"Does this mean the Adams Group will have to change its name soon?" a young man asked eagerly, his face alight with schadenfreude.
"Jamilah was truly ruthless—she'd rather leave her fortune to an outsider than let someone else have it," a middle-aged woman remarked, shaking her head with feigned regret.
Another added, "What, did you expect her to leave it to a mistress instead? The Adams Group only exists because of Jamilah's contributions."
Someone spoke with barely concealed indignation, their voice carrying both sympathy for Jamilah and disdain for Yvonne.
Yvonne, however, ignored the whispers and accusations around her.
She suddenly strode toward me, grabbed my hand, and challenged, "Laurel, you and Marvin grew up together. You wouldn't take what rightfully belongs to him, would you?"
Her attitude shifted dramatically, unconcerned about the onlookers' reactions.
At that moment, I suddenly found her both pitiful and pathetic.
Everything she had schemed and fought for meant nothing in Jamilah's eyes.
Whether it was Michael or the Adams Group, Jamilah had never truly cared.
"Mom, I've told you before—I never wanted anything," Marvin said firmly, his expression solemn.
Yvonne, enraged, snapped at him, "What do you know? Your father built the Adams Group from the ground up with hard work!"
End of Falling For My Ex's Uncle Chapter 503. Continue reading Chapter 504 or return to Falling For My Ex's Uncle book page.