A Billionaire In Disguise

Chapter Seventy-Nine

As the blasting sun burned their scalps, Madam Barlow frowned at Mr. Barlow and asked, "Why haven't

they opened the gate yet?"

"Stop asking me questions you know I don't have the answer to, woman!" Mr. Barlow lashed out,

frowning as he rang the bell again.

Annoyed by the hotness from the sun, Madam Barlow cried, "This is all Charles's fault for taking the

cars from us, making us use an Uber! How can he be so evil to ill-treat us in our own home!"

When Mr. Barlow played deaf to her words, she frowned and continued, "Catherine would have

never…"

"Maybe if you would have been a bit nicer to her and Rome in the past…"

"Me! How about you?! Were you not the same as me! Now we are losing it all, you want to make it my

fault!"

Frowning, Mr. Barlow looked away from his wife and cleared his throat before ringing the doorbell

again.

"Don't they have security or someone to monitor the cameras outside the gate! Doesn't anyone see

us!" Madam Rosey cried out.

"Shut up and stop complaining, woman!" Mr. Barlow harshly uttered before ringing the bell again.

Crossing his legs over the other, Mr. Ford rested back on the couch and faintly smirked before turning

his newspaper page.

After ringing the gate bell for the fifteenth time, Mr. Barlow wiped the sweat off his forehead and drew a

deep breath, feeling dry in his mouth.

"Should we go back home!" Madam Rosey mumbled, unable to bear the heat anymore.

"My forefathers, my father, and I work hard to make the Barlow name worth something! I refuse to allow

Charles to ruin it within a few months!" Mr. Barlow shouted in a fit of rage.

"Should we call Catherine's number again?" Madam Barlow asked, fanning herself with her hand.

"The twentieth time you tried it, why do you think her number didn't go through!?"

Do you think she blocked our numbers?"

"What other reason could there be, uh?!"

It grew silent as Madam Barlow pouted at her husband. Then she hastily reached into her purse and

pulled out her phone.

"What are you doing now!?" Mr. Barlow lashed out, feeling fed up with his wife's behavior.

"I'm calling Edward to tell him to inform his daughter that we are out here!" Madam Barlow said in

annoyance before dialing her son's number.

After a couple of rings, Edward answered the call, and his calm voice flowed through Madam Barlow's

ear. "I'm working, mother. What is it?"

"Call Catherine and informed her that her grandfather and I are standing outside of Mr. Ford's mansion.

She should come and get us!"

"Mom, what are you guys up to now! Can't you two just leave my daughter in peace!?"

"Edward, stop lecturing your mother and call your daughter!"

The line grew silent. Then Madam Barlow heard, "Beep! Beep! Beep!"

"He cut the line!" Madam Barlow mumbled in disbelief. "How did our life become this humiliating?!"

After taking a moment to inhale and exhale, a look of sadness settled in Mr. Barlow's eyes as he

mumbled, "So this is what Karma feels like. Within a blink of an eye, we are the ones who are in a

humble position."

Hanging his head low, Mr. Barlow sighed and then rang the doorbell, drowning in the feeling of despair

he felt for himself.

When the sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway, Mr. Ford raised his gaze and saw Catherine

walking past the living room.

Immediately, he called out, "Dear, where are you going?"

"To take a walk in the yard," Catherine answered, after entering the living room.

"Well, would you like to have a fruit bowl with me? I was just thinking about asking Chef Simon to make

me one."

"Ohh… Yes, please." Catherine said with a smile.

"Great. Let's head to the kitchen then."

Fanning herself even harder, Madam Rosey felt a sudden sharp pain in her wrist, and she cried out,

"Honey, we should leave before we die out here from heatstroke!"

When Mr. Barlow didn't answer, she tapped him on the shoulder, and slowly, he looked back.

"Hon, are you crying?!" Madam Barlow whispered, pouting at him.

"What disaster have we brought upon this family?!" Mr. Barlow cried out with tears welling in his eyes.

The conference room was silent as Charles twirled his chair, scowling at the board members seated

around the oval table.

Finally, a lady glared at him and said, "We call this meeting because the current state of the company is

degrading, and it all started after you took over DreamTeam!"

"So, what is that supposed to mean?!" Charles coldly uttered, balling his hand in a fist.

"It means you are handling this company the incompatible way, and we as the board members will not

continue to allow you to drag this company into ruins!"

"Get to the point!!"

"The board has decided to vote you out of the chairman seat!"

Clearing his throat, Elijah frowned and said, "Jessie, who and you came up with this decision because I

don't remember us being included in whatever meeting you guys had!"

Gazing at him, Jessie's face was ravaged with rage as he looked her dead in the eyes and firmly said,

“A vote without the consent of the entire board members doesn't count, so how about we dismiss this

meeting and go about our business?!"

It immediately became quiet in the room, and Charles glared at Jessie with a smirk on his lips.

Recently, on the board, it was Elijah, William, Anthony, and Charles with three other members, so

Jessie knew that even if she pushed for a vote now, they would get outnumbered.

A few minutes after the meeting got over, Charles approached Elijah, smiled at him, and said, "Thank

you, uncle, for your help just now."

Looking into his nephew's gaze, Elijah smiled and thought, 'Don't think I was saving you, dummy. I was

saving myself. If the leadership of this company changes, I can get sent to prison for years for the

company fund I have disbursed personally.' Belongs to NôvelDrama.Org - All rights reserved.

Then he stood from his chair, pulled Charles into his arms, and patted his back as he said, "No,

problem, Nephew. We are family, after all, and we need to stick together and look after each other."

A while later, Charles arrived in his office. Then he sat behind the desk and stared at the ceiling.

"Uncle Elijah might have saved me this time. But I can not afford for there to be a next time."

After wandering in his head for a while, he sat up straight, picked up his phone, and texted an unknown

number, "Sorry to bother you again after all that you have done for me. But I would like to ask a favor

from you again."

A couple of minutes went by, and then a message finally displayed on the screen, "I'm glad that you

texted. It's my pleasure to let you know that you and I do not have any dealings again, and after today,

you will no longer have access to me through this number."

"What!!" Charles blurted out in disbelief.

Then he hastily texted back, "What do you mean? Didn't you say that you were going to give me,

'DreamTeam?"

It took less than a second for another message to show up on his screen, "Didn't I?"

"You did. But now, DreamTeam is crumbling at a rapid pace because of Rome Ford, and I need your

help to save the company, so I can keep being in charge of it."

"I will do no such thing!"

A look of bitterness clouded Charles's face as he stared wide-eyed at the message, reading it over and

over to make sure it was real.

Then he suppressed his anger and wrote back, "Why?"

"I owe you no explanation." A text popped out on his screen.

Frustrated, Charles hardened his face and wrote, "If you won't help me, I will sell the company back to

Rome. I'm not stupid! I guessed a long time ago you are using me to get to Rome Ford. And although I

don't know what your plans are, I'm sure you don't want my cousin or Rome over the Barlow wealth."

"You are wrong in so many ways, Charles. For one, you are stupid! Two, go ahead and sell

DreamTeam to Rome, you will be doing me a huge favor!" The text that showed up on his screen a

minute later said.

"Are you calling a bluff right not?!" Charles read out loud, frowning deeply as he sent the text.

The seconds slowly turned into minutes, and a while later when Charles didn't receive a message

back, he angrily tossed his phone on the desk.

Then he stared into space for a while and subconsciously mumbled, "What the hell is going on here!!"