Chapter 61: The Cane
Wyatt didn’t let out so much as a grunt. He braced his hands on the ground beside him, stubborn and silent, refusing to back down or ask for mercy. Jackson’s eyes burned with rage. He wasn’t stopping.
Just as the second blow came down on Wyatt, Yunice reacted. If no one stepped in, Wyatt might not die, but he’d be badly hurt. But before Yunice could even rise to her feet, someone clamped a hand around her wrist. She whipped her head around in shock—Owen.
He sat there, cool as ever, still gripping her wrist, brow furrowed, giving her a subtle shake of the head. He knew Yunice was too softhearted for this, that the sight of blood turned her stomach, and that she wanted to speak up for Wyatt. But this was the Powell family’s show. It wasn’t their place to take the spotlight.
No matter how hard it was to watch, Yunice had to hold it in. She couldn’t risk bringing shame to the Saunders family. Yunice wavered, torn between staying quiet or breaking with Owen right then and rushing in to help Wyatt. But what could she actually do? She couldn’t pull Wyatt out of this, and she couldn’t clean up the mess afterward.
That one beat of hesitation was all it took—the third hit landed hard on Wyatt. He staggered forward, then straightened up again. His eyes locked onto Jackson’s, cold and coiled like a viper. He dragged the back of his hand across his mouth.
Something in that glare made Jackson flinch for half a second. But he was Wyatt’s father. What was he supposed to let the boy climb on top of his head? Keep going. Keep beating him. Beat him until he breaks. Until he begs.
Linda clutched her handkerchief so tightly her knuckles turned white. She watched each swing drop with barely concealed dread. She’s scared. But not just for Wyatt. The Powell family’s business was deeply tied to the Wellinges Group—the company Wyatt ran. If Wyatt got himself killed here, it would drag the Powell family down with him.
But Jackson was too far gone, consumed by rage. Unless Wyatt gave in first, no one dared say a word. Just then, Linda’s phone buzzed. She answered, listened silently, and then—with trembling hands—offered,
“Mr. Jackson,” she whispered. “It’s Jensen. He… he’s asking you to stop.”
Jackson gave Linda a suspicious look before taking the phone from her and pressing it to his ear. Jensen said only a few words, and Jackson’s face shifted. His eyes snapped up to Wyatt, then he threw up a hand. “Stop. That’s enough.”
Everyone turned to stare at him—especially Paul. No one could figure out what just happened or why Jackson suddenly changed course.
Then Jackson stood with a heavy look and made his way down the steps. “Paul, take Owen and feed the fish our back.” He’s sending them away. Owen, ever tactful as a guest, got up first. Paul looked like he wanted to argue but kept his mouth shut.
Just as the two were about to step away, a flicker of pink crossed their path. It was Yunice; her soft pink scarf wrapped around her shoulders. She bent down, picked up Wyatt’s cane, and—under everyone’s watchful eyes—headed straight toward him.
Owen instinctively reached out to stop her, but she slipped right past him. Yunice gripped the cane—tall as her waist—and strode up to Wyatt with zero hesitation. She crouched down in front of him, gently pried open his hand, and placed the cane into his palm.
Wyatt stared at her, stunned. For a split second, his eyes went unfocused. Yunice knew there were people in that room who probably hated her right now. But she didn’t care about their looks or their judgment. That crushing weight in her chest finally lifted.
This is it. I finally made it right. I finally stood up and said no. Linda gave Yunice a curious look. Jackson, on the other hand, shot her a cold glare, his face dark as thunder. But that pink scarf she had on…looked familiar somehow.
Paul turned just in time to see Yunice clearly taking Wyatt’s side. His fists clenched and his face twisted with rage. Why? Why did Wyatt take those brutal hits without flinching? Why didn’t he look broken? Was he not afraid of dying? Damn it. He really pulled it off in front of her.
Paul’s expression only cared more now. Seeing that Yunice had just pissed off half the room, Owen jumped in fast. “Mr. Jackson, Yunny’s got a condition. Sometimes she’s not in the right state of mind. Please don’t take it to heart.”
Jackson’s face relaxed a little. He had bigger things to worry about than picking a fight with her. Yunice stood up and left the hall without looking back. Owen rushed to catch up. Once they were alone in the courtyard, he grabbed her wrist and hissed, “Do you even realize what you’re doing? Who the heck do you think you are? This is the Powell family. This is not your stage.”
Yunice turned her eyes toward the artificial lake and didn’t even acknowledge him. What do I have to be scared of? Jackson’s not going to have me dragged out and beaten in front of everyone. And if the Powell family wants to take it out on someone, it’ll be the whole Saunders family. Honestly? I’d love to see that.