Chapter 495 Red Wedding

“Where’s your Mr. Carl? How much longer till he shows up?”

“Are we missing someone?”

“Paul, obviously. Back in the day, he was the glue that held this whole group together.”

“Yeah, but with his family background, there’s no way he’d show up to compete for some project.”

“That’s a shame. It’s been six or seven years–I was hoping to catch up.”

“Speaking of Paul, anyone heard anything about that little wifey of his? She’s been real quiet lately.”

“I heard Paul got married. She didn’t make a scene?”

“Heh, bet you guys haven’t heard the juicy part.”

At that, everyone leaned in a little closer.

“She married someone else. That illegitimate son from the Powell family–Wyatt.”

Everyone froze for a second. Then the connections clicked into place.

“This Yunice chick, huh… she couldn’t get Paul, so she turned around and married his uncle? And they’re all living in the same compound? Must be some real stepmom fanfic going on behind closed doors.”

Subtle smirks appeared around the room. They were all well-dressed and polished, but their expressions carried a trace of mockery.

They were more restrained now. In their twenties, already worn smooth and fake by the business world—gone was the reckless arrogance of youth.

But even so, mention of those wild, shameless days stirred something in each of them.

Everyone here knew exactly how Yunice had struggled back then. Knew exactly how badly she’d been treated.

But time had passed. And they were eager to bury their guilt, so they let all the blame shift silently onto Yunice.

If she took the fall alone, if she turned her suffering into something “understandable,” then they weren’t really the bad guys.

So they moved on from the topic of Yunice. No one wanted to talk about her. No one wanted to remember who they used to be.

Just then, a sudden noise broke out on the second floor.

Everyone looked up.

There, mounted to the ceiling, was a pulley system. And dangling from the rope below it—was a man.

People jumped out of their seats, scrambling backward as the figure slowly descended.

He was a mess. Dirty gauze covered parts of his face.

One man’s eyes widened in recognition and he shouted, “It’s Paul! That’s Paul!”

“Help him! Somebody help him!”

Several people rushed forward to untie the rope.

Just then–Crash!

A chair was thrown from the second floor, slamming down right where they’d been standing. Pengle screamed and stumbled back again.

When they looked up, they saw a handsome, refined man step out of the shadows at the railing.

But to them, he was a stranger.

Victor. As Carl’s assistant, he wasn’t yet known in Silverburgh society.

In other words–everyone downstairs wasn’t even qualified to know who he was.

Victor rested a hand on the railing and gave the stunned crowd below a friendly smile. “Hello, everyone. I’m Yunice’s brother–Victor.”

The group looked at each other. They all knew Yunice had two older brothers: Oscar and Owens.

But none of them had the last name Lindt.

Victor added, “My father is Carl.”

The second he said it, everyone’s faces changed.

They may not have met Carl, but they knew he was childless–and had adopted a godson and goddaughter.

Could it be?

A year ago, Carl had taken in a goddaughter–one who’d had a grand, secretive wedding.

Was that Yunice?

The entire room stiffened. They glanced nervously between Victor and the man dangling from the ceiling.

Even Paul’s face had words carved into it.

One of them whispered, “This… this is a red wedding.”

He didn’t wait. Turned on his heel and made for the exit.

Everyone knew why they were here. Knew what they’d done. Knew this was payback.

If they didn’t get out now, they’d end up just like Paul.

But they’d only taken a few steps before they all froze.

Sunlight poured into the hall, framing the tall figure standing at the door like a silhouette.

He leaned casually against the doorway, golden light catching the bridge of his nose.

Someone stumbled back, voice shaking. “Wyatt… it’s Wyatt….”

Nothing good ever followed that name.

Wyatt’s eyes glinted with amusement as he strolled inside, leisurely.

With each step, the crowd backed away like chickens cornered by a wolf. Someone’s knees gave out and they fell, triggering a domino effect that left a heap of people on the floor.

Wyatt stopped in front of them and smiled–cold and cruel. “I heard you were talking about my wife.”

Someone swallowed hard, scrambling to shift the blame. “Wyatt, whatever’s going on between you and Paul is none of our business. We never touched her!”

Right. They hadn’t laid a hand on Yunice back then. They were just the echo chamber, the rumor mill—cheerleaders for Paul, riding his coattails, feeding the flames with their words.