Chapter 630 One Life for Another

Yunice felt the warmth of Wyatt’s hand in hers as she gazed at his profile in the dim light.

“Wyatt,” she said quietly. “You know it was me, right?”

“You knew everything I did, didn’t you?”

“Why did you take the fall for something you didn’t do? You know they’d believe it.”

Wyatt didn’t deny it. “What’s the difference between what you did and what I would’ve done?”

He turned to her, his voice even. “You really think innocence would protect anyone from them?”

Yunice understood what he meant. But that didn’t mean it was right. Just because Wyatt had done his share of dark things didn’t mean every crime could be dumped on him.

Her brows furrowed. Without a word, she rolled the bracelet – of agarwood beads from her own wrist onto his.

Wyatt blinked in surprise, then looked down.

Since their hands were still linked, Yunice had simply slipped it onto him herself.

“What’s this?” he asked, staring at her. His dark eyes rippled with emotion.

He knew exactly what it was.

The bracelet had belonged to Yunice’s father – a cherished keepsake. She’d gone through hell to get it back from Wyatt, back when he used it to bait her into his schemes.

She had valued it above everything.

“It’s yours now,” she said softly. “It’s good luck. It’ll keep you safe.”

Wyatt’s heart thundered in his chest. For a moment, he couldn’t speak.

She gave this… to him?

Yunice had never given him anything like this before – something this important.

It took him several long seconds to collect himself. Then he started to remove the bracelet. “You keep it. Being with me will only drag you into more trouble.”

But Yunice shook her head. “The wind keeps blowing, even if the tree wants to be still. Getting caught in the storm wasn’t your fault. I chose this.”

Even when the Powell family glared at her earlier, she hadn’t blamed him.

There were always risks and rewards. She chose Wyatt as her shield, which meant she had to accept the backlash too.

Anyone close to Wyatt faced the same danger. She wasn’t special.

Back when she was with Paul, she’d also been dragged down, targeted for no reason.

Wherever there was profit, there would be strife. Yunice had chosen to dive in. There was no staying clean.

She had survived this far under Wyatt’s protection. She had no complaints.

Looking down at the beads in her palm, she added, “You better decide now. I’m not going to offer it a second time.”

Wyatt’s lips tightened into a line. “…I want it.”

Only then did Yunice smile, watching him slip the bracelet onto his wrist.

But before the moment could settle, her eyes snapped toward the bushes behind him. “Who’s there?!”

A woman hidden in the shrubs jolted upright and bolted.

Wyatt shot a look at his men. One of them immediately took off after her.

Yunice frowned. “She’s not part of the Powell family. But why does she look familiar?”

She couldn’t place it. “Let’s go to the hospital first.”

If the girl got caught, she’d see her soon enough.

But before they arrived, Wyatt received a call.

She had escaped.

The girl clearly knew the Powell estate well – she slipped through easily. With all the guests tonight, she could’ve been brought in by any of them.

No point chasing it further for now.

At the hospital, Jackson had been moved to intensive care. He’d received multiple critical alerts already.

The doctor’s expression was grim. “He’s been poisoned.”

“The old man’s been on medications for years, but the levels in his blood when he arrived were ten times the safe limit. It triggered acute acidosis. We’re doing dialysis now, but… even a healthy young adult wouldn’t have great odds.”

No one cared much. Jackson had spent a lifetime scheming, cold-blooded and ruthless. No one would shed a tear if he died.

Wyatt stood there, arms folded, entirely unbothered. His only reaction was a cold frown.

“Don’t let him die,” he ordered. “Adrenaline, defibrillator, whatever it takes. Keep him alive.”

Yunice understood perfectly. If Jackson died in a coma, it would be far too merciful.

He needed to live long enough to see everything – to watch the golden boy he’d raised destroy the Powell family with his own hands.

Wyatt entered the room.

Jackson lay unconscious, hooked to a ventilator, lifeless.

Wyatt stood at his bedside and let out a quiet, mocking laugh. “I bet your biggest regret isn’t grooming Paul… it’s not killing me when I was born.”

“But see,” he went on, his voice soft and laced with venom, “sometimes, I get generous. You threw me away like garbage… but I’m still the only one who wants you alive.”

He laughed again low, complicated, full of layered emotion.