Chapter 345 Who’s the Joke On Now?

Paul said, “You’re just being dramatic and fake!”

Yunice replied casually, “Say what you want, but at least Wyatt only has one woman right now. He gives me a sense of security. Can you?”

She had just finished speaking when Paul suddenly let out a mocking laugh. His expression was full of contempt—smug and triumphant, as if Yunice had just done something incredibly stupid that gave him immense satisfaction.

“Wyatt only has one woman? You really think that highly of yourself…” Paul hadn’t even finished his sentence when he let out a sharp cry of pain and jumped back a step.

He was shaking his hand like it had just been burned.

Yunice looked down and only then noticed the still-burning cigarette butt on the ground. It had clearly fallen from the floor above.

She looked up—and saw Wyatt standing by the upstairs window. Her heart tightened, and her expression darkened.

When did Wyatt get here?

How much of what I said just now did he hear?

Does he care?

Wyatt’s moods were always unpredictable. Sometimes he was easy to talk to. Other times, he’d snap over just one sentence and wouldn’t rest until someone paid the price.

Wyatt stared dead-eyed at Paul, his voice completely flat. “What were you chatting about with your aunt?”

Paul’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he forced down two dry swallows.

He knew Wyatt had been in a bad mood these past few days. No one dared cross him at a time like this.

Without saying a word, Paul turned and walked away.

Yunice eyed Wyatt warily. But after a moment, she realized he wasn’t even looking at her.

She figured Wyatt probably didn’t feel like dealing with her right now, so she quickly left, heart heavy, already thinking about how to smooth things over the next time they met.

Paul was just ahead of her. Yunice thought to herself—she couldn’t let Wyatt get angry for nothing.

She caught up to Paul. “You always act so high and mighty, but the second you saw my husband, you turned tail and ran. And you call me the one with no spine? Who’s the coward now?”

Paul glared at her, but remembering his earlier humiliation, he didn’t want to provoke Wyatt again—and that meant not provoking Yunice either.

But Yunice had no intention of letting him off easy. She went on, “You’ve been hiding out in the compound so much, you probably don’t even know how people outside are laughing at you. They say you’re a Ninja Turtle, with the Hulunbuir grasslands growing on your head—and you’re too dumb to even know it.”

That line hit its mark. Paul stopped. “What Hulunbuir grasslands?”

Yunice said, “Take a guess. Do you really think a man with no money still gets to keep his woman around?”

Paul’s expression flickered. He was clearly furious at the insult, but at the same time, thoughts were racing through his head, trying to figure out who might’ve cheated on him.

Was it Taylor or Elsie?

He might not love Taylor, but that didn’t mean he’d tolerate her cheating on him.

He turned around to go deal with Taylor, but Yunice’s voice drifted after him, calm and lazy. “How long has it been since Elsie last contacted you? Cheater-”

Paul’s mind exploded. He turned around, eyes wide with fury and disbelief, staring at Yunice.

Yunice tossed him another bomb. “VIP wing, City Hospital. Room Three. Go see for yourself.”

And with that, while he was still torn between anger and suspicion, Yunice turned and headed back to the living room, light on her feet and totally at ease.

Paul’s own house was burning down—how could he have time to fight with Yunice now?

Maybe he’d finally remembered that it really had been a long time since Elsie last reached out. Paul spun around and left the Powell family estate.

Back in the living room, the guests were still the same bunch of relatives. The old man and Wyatt hadn’t returned.

A few of them were lounging in chairs, joking around openly in front of Yunice. Whatever sad, mourning faces they’d shown earlier—they didn’t even bother pretending anymore.

In the study, after the old man came back, Wyatt casually shut the window.

The old man placed a document on the desk and said, “Sign this agreement to be officially recognized as part of the family, and I’ll tell you where your mother is buried. That way, you’ll have a place to pay your respects in the future.”

Wyatt sat carelessly in the armchair. He flipped through the agreement—it outlined his mother’s official remarried status and acknowledged Wyatt as the Powell family’s second heir.

Wyatt let go of the document and gave the old man a mocking look. “I’ll recognize the family, but I’ve got one condition.” The old man asked, “What condition?”

His tone was easygoing, like no condition could really be that big of a deal.

Wyatt pointed straight at Jensen and said arrogantly, “Switch her mother’s place with mine. Make my mom the official wife and hers the mistress. How about it?”