Patrick didn't care. He pushed past Steve and walked into the house with his two sons.
Fiona had just heard what Patrick said, and her mind went blank. She quickly got up and was rushing toward the front door.
In a flash.
Seeing Patrick, Fiona got frantic. "Patrick, what the heck is going on? We are not doing renovations."
Patrick smiled smugly. "I'm the one doing the renovations. This is my house. Ginger left the house to me."
The words landed.
Fiona was dumbfounded on the spot. "What in God's name are you talking about?"
Steve stood off to the side, having already figured out the pattern: something bad was about to go down with the Gallaghers again. All he could do was sigh silently.
Patrick didn't answer Fiona right away. He turned and called out to his two sons, "You two head upstairs and take the measurements."
Hearing this, the two sons didn't waste a second and headed straight for the stairs.
Fiona saw this and instinctively moved, blocking the stairwell. "No one is going up there! This is my family's house!"
Patrick laughed. "This has never been your house. Get it straight—this house belonged to Ginger, and Ginger left it to me! I have the will!"
"Move aside, or don't make me call the cops!"
Patrick was totally unapologetic.
Hearing his threat.
Fiona felt dizzy, almost swaying on her feet.
Losing the house?
Absolutely not!
If they lost this house, where would the family live?
Dizzy as she was, Fiona didn't speak. At the same time, she slowly figured out what was happening: this whole mess was the fallout from fooling the FBI last time. She was completely panicked...
Seeing Fiona like this, Patrick's two sons—despite being her relatives—didn't hesitate for a second. They squeezed past Fiona and went scrambling up the stairs.
At this point, Frank and Monica both started shouting.
"Patrick, what the hell are you talking about! Ginger hated your guts! There's no way she left the house to you!" Frank yelled, launching right into insults.
Monica was much the same. "Patrick, Fk you! Get the hell out!!"
The two of them, husband and wife, kept the witty insults flying one after the other, non-stop.
However.
Patrick was a Gallagher, too. In terms of sheer audacity, he was easily a match for Frank.
Plus, Patrick had a skill Frank and Monica lacked: ruthlessness.
So, that little bit of yelling didn't bother Patrick one bit.
"Heh," Patrick sneered. "Frank, Monica, you two really are a pair. With broken legs, and it's cold out there right now, I'm genuinely looking forward to seeing how you plan to survive outside."
After dropping that bomb, Patrick didn't even glance at Frank and Monica and went upstairs himself.
Threatened, Frank and Monica immediately started cursing even louder.
Fiona felt totally weak. She couldn't hold herself up anymore and crumpled onto the stair landing, unable to grasp that this was actually happening.
Seeing Fiona like this, Steve quickly sat down next to her and pulled her into his arms. "Don't worry. We'll figure out a way to fix this."
Words like that really meant nothing at this moment.
Time flew by.
Patrick and his two sons finished measuring the second floor. As they came downstairs, they were discussing the remodeling details.
Fiona heard them and, with red eyes, tried to fight back. "Patrick, I was born in this house, this is my home. Don't do this. If you steal our house, what are we supposed to do?"
Fiona was practically pleading.
Did Patrick feel any sympathy?
Not a shred.
"First off, Ginger left this house to me. I'm not stealing it, so watch your mouth!" Patrick didn't stop moving. "Second, what you guys do is none of my damn business."
Having said that heartless remark, Patrick and his two sons ignored Frank and Monica and started measuring the first floor.
Once they were done.
Patrick breezed past Frank and Monica. He walked over to Fiona, who looked pitiful, helpless, and stunned, and smiled. "Fiona, don't say I don't care about family. I'll give you guys one week to pack up your stuff."
"Let's hope you don't force me to call the police to kick you out."
Patrick finished, waved his hand, and left with his two sons.
Fiona stood frozen, her body shaking, her face slowly turning white.
---
The lunch rush was over.
Dexter left the restaurant, drove to find the guy who handled the permits, paid the final balance, and collected the relevant licenses for the fruit shop. He then headed to the storefront.
Svetlana's efficiency was still top-notch.
In front of the storefront, the workers were almost done installing the sign.
Dexter looked up at the sign, seeing the name "Dex Fruits," and smiled.
Is the name cheesy? Yes.
But it didn't matter.
His eyes shifted, and Dexter looked into the storefront.
The scene inside was interesting.
Svetlana's former colleagues were all there.
And honestly, a few of those "craftswomen" were pretty good-looking and had plenty of... assets.
As Dexter looked at them, he couldn't help but think about something.
In this world...
Kevin, and even Lip at college, have that kind of "good fortune" that every guy wants...
So why should he miss out?
Maybe he should have some fun?
Yeah, let's have some fun.
Dexter decided. He got out of his car and walked into the storefront. "Svetlana, the permits are all here. We're opening tomorrow."
Svetlana took the licenses and looked at them happily for a moment. "Great."
"About what time do you think you can open tomorrow?" Dexter asked.
Svetlana seemed a bit confused. "Boss, when do you need me to open?"
"If possible, before nine a.m. That way, after nine, you can send a batch of fruit to my restaurant. We can call that the official opening," Dexter replied.
Svetlana understood and nodded with a cheerful smile. "Okay, we'll open before nine then."
"Alright. So, starting tomorrow, every day after nine a.m., deliver about two hundred dollars worth of fruit to my restaurant. The price will be based on your standard markup. Keep sending it until I tell you otherwise."
Svetlana: "!!!"
The collection of craftswomen: "!!!!"
What did this mean?
It meant that before they even officially opened, Svetlana had a guaranteed daily income!
Naturally, Svetlana was thrilled. "Thank you, Boss."
"No problem," Dexter responded with a smile. He glanced at the craftswomen nearby and asked Svetlana, "Are these all your friends?"
"Yes, we all used to work at the spa together," Svetlana answered honestly, not seeing any issue with it. She then proactively introduced them to Dexter.
After the introductions.
"Wow, that's a lot of beautiful women. I'm a little dizzy just looking at you all. Maybe we can all swing by my place sometime and check out the apartment?" Dexter said with a smile.
Hearing that.
Svetlana immediately gave him a radiant grin. "Sounds good!"
The rest of the craftswomen all giggled.
"Great."
"We'll definitely come."
"Mr. Dexter, are you sure you can handle it?"