Joel strode up to them and instantly took hold of the situation with a deep, frosty, and thunder-like voice, scaring the Mitchell Family’s men out of acting rashly.
Seeing the crowd of threatening-looking soldiers, Anthony broke out in a cold sweat. He had never expected the Fletcher Family to care about Nathan so much as to send Joel out to snatch Nathan himself!
No—this is more like a display of the Fletchers’ power!
Sophia’s heart skipped a beat when she saw Joel. She quietly moved back to avoid meeting him.
Stanley immediately approached Joel and complained, “It’s him, Uncle Joel! He’s the one who wants to snatch Nate away!”
Joel smirked icily. “Oh? Who are you?”
Thinking that he was Nathan’s grandfather and was entirely in the right no matter what, Anthony braced himself and said, “It’s me, Anthony. I’m Nate’s grandfather, so I have the right to take him back!”
“Hmph!” Joel stiffly curved up the corners of his lips, looking as though he was smiling. “I’m here today to speak on behalf of the Fletcher Family. Nathan is one of us Fletchers; whoever dares to snatch him from us will be an enemy of the Fletcher Family!”
Upon hearing Joel’s tone, Anthony’s back broke out in another cold sweat. Did Mark instruct Joel to say this?
Anthony’s eyes flickered as he decided to word his demand differently. “Since this is Old Master Fletcher’s wish, I shan’t insist on having Nathan back. It’s just that my youngest son has passed away for many years. I’ve missed Nate every single day throughout these years, but I only came to know his whereabouts today. Can I take Nate back to the Mitchell Residence for a while? I don’t mean anything else; I just want to take a look at him…”
Like a grandfather who missed his grandson, he sounded extremely pitiful. Unfortunately, Joel didn’t buy his story at all.
“No,” he flatly interrupted Anthony’s imploring speech.
Anthony clenched his teeth silently without saying a word. Just then, a middle-aged woman came up to them from behind; she was Justin’s mother.
Mrs. Mitchell sobbed tearfully the instant she walked up to them. “Oh, my poor Justin! It’s my fault for failing to keep your son! I have let you down! If it hadn’t been for our incompetence, your son wouldn’t have been surnamed after somebody else! Justin, oh, Justin! Why did you leave us so soon? Oh, my dear Justin…”
Sobbing miserably and pitifully, she spoke with unbearable bitterness in every word as though the Fletcher Family had killed her son and snatched her grandson away from her.
Unable to stand the sight of her playacting, someone scoffed right away and said, “Huh! Why did it never occur to you two that Justin was your son when you guys wanted to let him die by taking him off his oxygen?”
Upon hearing the cold and scornful voice, Mrs. Mitchell stopped wiping her crocodile tears. Then, she watched as a person stepped out of the car that had its lights smashed, revealing a handsome face that looked at them with a sneer.
She recognized that face. It belonged to Taylor; he was the younger brother of Celine, her daughter-in-law whom she had never met.
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