Chapter 628 Bloodlines and Betrayals

Wyatt let out a cold laugh. “If Jensen and Paul had even a shred of backbone, those old fossils wouldn’t dare pull this stunt.”

Yunice scoffed. At this rate, Paul was one step away from being completely discarded.

Forty minutes later, the helicopter landed at the Powell estate.

The moment the servants announced their arrival, the elders seated in the memorial hall all paused mid-sip and looked toward the entrance in unison.

Wyatt was the final player to arrive – and the one they were most wary of. Because none of them could guess if he had come to stake his claim.

Two figures stepped from the shadows into the light, and the elders immediately slammed their teacups down and shouted, “Get out!”

“A woman has no place in the memorial hall!”

“Who is she? Wyatt, this is the Powell ancestral shrine! How dare you bring in some nobody!”

Wyatt gripped Yunice’s hand and shot the speaker a cold glare. “And who the hell are you supposed to be?”

“I’m your uncle!”

The man stood up, ready to pull rank — when suddenly, a bloodcurdling scream erupted from outside.

Paul visibly flinched. That voice… sounded an awful lot like his son.

The screaming and sounds of a beating continued just beyond the memorial hall. Paul, horrified, bolted out to see what was happening, and the other elders craned their necks toward the door, unease creeping over their faces.

Then Paul’s furious voice rang out: “Stop! Stop! I said stop! Are you beating my son anymore?!”

The commotion turned heads inside. Expressions darkened, and when the elders looked back at Wyatt, a new wariness clouded their eyes.

They had heard the rumors that Wyatt was ruthless. Now, they’d seen it for themselves.

Wyatt led Yunice to the main seat at the front and locked eyes with the man currently occupying it. That man broke out in a sweat, then quickly stood up and vacated the seat.

Before a room full of stunned onlookers, Wyatt gestured for Yunice to sit.

“You–”

Letting a woman not only enter the memorial hall but sit at the head? Where was their dignity?

But Wyatt turned, took the seat beside her, and cast a sharp glance around the room.

“Anyone here still not know who she is?”

No one dared speak. The words caught in their throats. Speak now and it would be their son getting dragged out and beaten.

Let the woman sit. She wasn’t going to kill anyone, but opening your mouth just might get you killed.

Wyatt let out a scornful snort and swept his gaze over the ancestral plaques in the memorial hall.

These chunks of wood had never once offered him justice as a blood heir. What made them think he owed them reverence?

If anything, they deserved to be smashed.

Compared to the escalating tension in the room, Yunice looked almost serene as she sat quietly beside him.

She was reading the room.

And then her gaze fell to the far corner where Paul sat, bound to a chair, mouth taped shut with black duct tape.

Oh, there he is. Why was he tied up?

Yunice’s expression turned smug. Paul caught her eye and flushed red, struggling against his restraints, but it was no use.

Look how little the Powell family thought of him. A crumbling mountain – no more, no less.

Wyatt turned to the others. “So what, you all came here in the middle of the night just to sip tea? If there’s business, then let’s hear it.”

An elder stepped forward. “The old master’s been in and out of the hospital these past two years. With the patriarch holding power and the branches always fighting, there’s been endless conflict. We believe it’s time to choose a new heir for the Powell family.”

Wyatt smirked. “So, you’ve already made your pick?”

If they were all sitting here, it meant they’d already divvied up the spoils and settled on a candidate before this meeting.

Sure enough, the man replied solemnly, “Wyatt, you’re not in the Powell family registry. By name, you’re not one of us. The corporation’s internal matters don’t concern you–”

Wyatt raised an eyebrow. “Then why were you all waiting for me?”

Paul was here. Everyone else was already seated. And yet no one had dared speak until now.

Because they all knew – registry or not, if Wyatt said no, everything they’d agreed upon would be worthless. This polite phrasing was just their way of hoping he’d bow out on his own.

But was that even possible?

Sensing Wyatt’s refusal to back down, the elder grew anxious. “We’ve already chosen Paul’s son. He’s older than you, has worked at Powell Corporation for thirty years, and has a solid, dependable reputation. Paul’s… condition tarnishes the family’s image. Jensen lacks the qualifications. Among the younger generation, only your second uncle’s son has what it takes. And Wyatt, you’ve already built your own empire. Why fight your own family over this?”

Fight?

Yunice’s gaze darkened.

When people had no shame, this was how they looked.