Frida Cameron made her way into Number One Pacific Heights with her men. While this was nowhere near as grand or luxurious as the Taylor family's residence in Chicago, Frida Cameron was still taken aback.
She had always thought that the piece of trash would be staying in a dilapidated and rundown place. She had never expected him to be living in a villa!
As the old lady walked into Number One Pacific Heights, Yvette Larson was puzzled. "Who are you?"
Frida Cameron simply sat down as though she owned the house, and she took in her surroundings.
Finally, her gaze fell on Yvette Larson. "You must be Yvette Larson—that piece of trash's wife."
Yvette Larson felt her heart leap in her chest. For some reason, this old lady in front of her evoked a sense of fear in her.
The aura she exuded was something Yvette Larson had never felt in her life. Not from her grandpa—Joseph Larson—not from the Sanders family, and not from even the Gold family.
