Chapter 485 You Deserve to Be Loved
After being hurt enough times, reaching out again just makes you look like a fool.
Carl gently patted Yunice’s shoulder in comfort.
“Yunice, I’ve lived half a lifetime. I pride myself on being a good judge of character. I believe you.”
Yunice’s brow trembled, and the tears came even harder.
Carl’s voice softened with sympathy. “I’m not blaming you. Even a rabbit will bite when pushed too far. If parents don’t act like parents, the child shouldn’t have to cling to some outdated idea of filial piety and let herself be torn apart, should she? I think you did the right thing. I just want you to remember: don’t shut yourself off from the world just because you’ve been hurt. Don’t keep everyone out. Believe me – everyone deserves to be loved. Even someone as vile as Elsie has people who adore her. So how can you be sure no one will love you fiercely?”
Yunice looked up, more tears falling. Her voice trembled. “Mr. Carl… thank you.”
Carl clicked his tongue, clearly annoyed. “I wasn’t talking about myself. Can’t you see how many people around you care about you?”
Yunice thought about it. “Gill, Margaret, Freya, Victor, and Oscar have all helped me a lot…”
She glanced at Carl, only to find he was still watching her with anticipation. Lacking confidence, she added, “And… Wyatt.”
Carl’s eyes lit up. “Exactly! Hasn’t Wyatt gone out of his way to protect you?”
Yunice silently thought, That’s only because there’s no one else to compare me to. If Wyatt had someone else to dote on, I’d probably be the one left behind.
Carl reached out and flicked her forehead. “You’re way too young to be this pessimistic.”
“Once you break free of your past, you’ll realize it’s not even raining out there. You’ve just been carrying an umbrella for no reason.”
But old habits die hard. Yunice had spent so long wrapped in armor, she didn’t know how to stand in the sun and smile freely.
Carl went quiet for a moment before making a decision. “Your father may be gone, but there’s something I need to decide on his behalf.”
Yunice looked up in surprise, only to hear Carl whisper a few words in her ear.
Her brows lifted, the shock melting into a hesitant calm. After a moment’s pause, she nodded.
“Mr. Carl, I won’t let you down.”
Meanwhile, Wyatt and Victor arrived at the Powell estate.
It was the middle of the night – just past 1 a.m. – and one by one, the lights in the yard and house flicked on.
The old man was jolted awake, sitting on the edge of his bed with a cold stare locked on Wyatt.
That punk was becoming more arrogant by the day. Did he even realize what time it was?
And the way he treated Paul…
Mr. Jackson’s hand clenched tight with rage. If he were twenty years younger, he’d teach Wyatt a lesson he’d never forget.
Victor stood beside Wyatt and bowed politely. “Good evening, Mr. Jackson. My father sent me to bring Mr. Paul over to clarify a few things.”
Compared to Victor’s forced civility, Wyatt wasn’t holding back at all.
“I’m here to take Paul with me.”
Mr. Jackson growled, “Not happening. I don’t care who you are – even if Carl came himself, he wouldn’t take my grandson!”
But before the words even finished echoing, Paul’s muffled voice rang out.
“Mm! Mm!”
He was dragged in, mouth covered, struggling in the grip of two men.
Wyatt lifted his gaze, amusement flashing in his eyes as he looked at the old man.
Did he really think his words still meant anything?
Whether Mr. Jackson agreed or not, Paul was leaving tonight.
They let the old man catch one glimpse of his grandson before they dragged Paul out and shoved him into the car.
Victor frowned slightly. Wyatt’s methods were rough, but the job was done – no need to linger.
He got into the car with Paul and drove off.
Wyatt stayed behind a little longer.
Mr. Jackson stared at Wyatt’s neck with eyes full of malice, his gaze as sharp as a knife.
He had to go.
A lion out of control needed to be put down.
He had to go…
Wyatt heard the sudden footsteps behind him. His brow furrowed. He turned…
Mr. Jackson was rushing straight at him, a gun in his hand!
Back in the car, Victor drove steadily while Paul sat cuffed to a ring on the backseat.
Victor glanced up at the mirror and saw Paul’s face, mostly wrapped in thick bandages with only his eyes visible.
Though oddly, there didn’t seem to be much blood on them.
Victor asked, confused, “What happened to your face?”
Paul growled through gritted teeth, “Pull over, you bastard! Where the hell are you taking me?!”
“The Powell family won’t let you off for this!”
Victor smiled gently. “Why is it the Powell family that won’t let me off, and not you?”
Paul went silent.