Chapter 266: Unmasked
Everyone else had been kicked out. Except Wyatt.
He lounged leisurely in the chair, casually pulling out a cigarette. But after a moment’s thought about the air quality and all that, he scowled and flicked it into a bone china teacup.
Jackson, livid with rage, stomped over on unsteady legs. His voice cracked as he shrieked, “Look at what you’ve done! Are you even human?!”
Wyatt chuckled, clearly entertained. “This is on me? I control the skies, the earth, and now your son’s sphincter too?”
“You…!” Jackson was so furious, he could only sputter the word “you” over and over.
Wyatt did not bat an eye. With his usual devil-may-care tone, he said, “You’re not getting any younger, sir. Maybe take a breather, yeah? If you fall and break something, who’s going to wipe your crappy son’s ass for you?”
With a snort of mockery, he stood and strode off.
Jackson could only watch that arrogant back disappear, seething but helpless.
Once outside the courtyard, Wyatt finally lit a cigarette. The Powell family had made a mess today, sure, but for some reason, he still felt restless.
As he raised the cigarette to his lips, something caught the corner of his eye. Taylor was walking alongside a girl, bundled head-to-toe, cap pulled low. The two looked like they were about to leave the Powell mansion.
His gaze lingered on the girl in the baseball cap…and dropped to her waist.
After a pause, he lowered the cigarette and smirked, then casually walked their way. With his long legs, he easily caught up. “Ms. Taylor,” he called, “the old man took a fall. He’s asking for you.”
Startled, Taylor looked at him. When had he even shown up? She then glanced toward the conference hall, lights still on. She hesitated only a moment before believing him, hurrying off to check on Jackson, which left Yunice alone.
Sensing his gaze, Yunice walked on as if she had not noticed. But Wyatt slipped one hand into his pocket and trailed behind her, unhurried and silent.
She peeked back. Had he recognized me? A chill crept up her spine, but she kept moving, forcing herself forward.
She flinched, turning her head just in time to meet Wyatt’s eyes. He stood close, his entire frame brushing against hers, his gaze locked on hers as they were suddenly eye to eye.
One foot over the threshold, one still behind. It would not take much to send her tumbling. This damn threshold. It was originally built to trip Wyatt. Now it had her stuck instead.
Wyatt did not let go. She could not move forward. And under the brim of her cap, she could feel his eyes seeking hers, teasing, probing.
She ducked her head to hide, but then his hand moved. He lifted it, fingers unerring, and pinched the scar on her cheek with precise elegance.
Startled, Yunice jerked away, and a piece of silicone scar tore off her face. The ruse was up.
Clutching her cheek, she glared at him. Furious. He had done it on purpose!
Wyatt rolled the fake scar between his fingers, then flicked it away. He gave a low, amused snort. “You’ve got quite the list of identities, don’t you?”
She did not deny it. Instead, she stepped over the threshold and turned to face him. “So? You planning to rat me out?”
Wyatt lifted his eyelids lazily. “Jensen… You did that to him?”
Yunice did not answer, but her eyes held no guilt. “His son came for me first. The father pays for the son’s sins. Fair game.”
Wyatt laughed.
As they left the Powell mansion, he asked casually, “Got a light?”
She looked at the cigarette he still had not smoked, then reached into her bag and pulled out the lighter he had once given her. The flame flared. She shielded it from the wind with one hand.
Wyatt leaned in, letting the cigarette catch the flame until the tip glowed red. Just as she let her hand drop, he caught her wrist.
Under the gate’s warm light, he studied the bruises encircling her skin. “Are you mad at me?” he asked.
Yunice blinked, caught off guard. He was not even looking at her face, just her wrist, with his eyes narrowed and brow furrowed.
She meant to shake her head. But her chin tipped up instead, and after a beat of hesitation, she gave the tiniest nod.
Yeah. She was a little mad.
Wyatt frowned. “Well. I’m mad at you too. I’m mad you ran off and let Paul take you. I’m mad you didn’t explain a damn thing after. Like you don’t even care how I’d feel.”
Yunice froze. What…was that supposed to mean?
Wyatt’s gaze was heavy now, serious. “Paul’s little setup? You think I couldn’t see through that?”
If he couldn’t even spot a trick that clumsy, he’d have been eaten alive long ago.
This time, Yunice was truly stunned. Not just by what he said, but by the way he said it. There was frustration in his voice. A kind of grievance. Almost like…he cared.