Chapter 73: The Broken Heir’s Reckoning
Wyatt glanced sideways at Jensen with a smug look. “This is the face I’m giving.”
Paul was on his knees, clutching his leg. The pain was so intense, he couldn’t even scream.
Jensen’s face had gone pale. His expression was filled with hatred, but he couldn’t bring himself to say a single harsh word. He stepped forward and helped his son up, then left the hospital room with his injured son in tow.
Jordan finally let out a long breath. He turned to look behind Wyatt and noticed a faint damp spot on his black coat. “Wyatt, your wound…”
Every time Jackson beat him, it was brutal. And now, after that struggle, the stitches had probably torn open again.
Wyatt raised a hand, cutting him off. “Get out.”
Once the door was shut and no one was around to disturb him, Wyatt turned slightly and reached for the soft pink scarf still wrapped around his neck.
At Longevity Springs, in the Powell Residence, Jensen was red with anger. “Dad, are you really going to let Wyatt walk all over us like this? You’re not punishing him, and now you’re arranging a marriage for him?”
Jackson stood by the lake, brushing fish food crumbs off his hands, looking unconcerned. “What else do you suggest? If you’ve got the skills, go win me that plot in the Western Suburbs.”
Jensen fell silent. I still couldn’t let it go. “He broke Paul’s leg this time. Next time, he won’t hesitate to come for me!”
If we didn’t handle him now, who knew what Wyatt might do next?
Jensen’s eyes turned cold. “Maybe I should deal with the one in the guest house too…”
Before he could finish, Jackson shot him a glare. “If the one in the guest house could’ve held him back, that plot in the Western Suburbs would’ve been yours already.”
Jensen choked on his words. Is Wyatt no longer looking after that person? All these years, the Powell family had relied on that person in the guest house to manipulate Wyatt, making him work for them willingly.
Jackson snorted. We were all fooled. He made it look like we had control, but he’s been using us.
Jensen turned pale. If that person in the guest house had just been a smokescreen all along… then the Powell family had completely lost their grip on Wyatt.
He noticed Jackson staring into the lake at the koi. Jensen stepped closer and peered down. These fish… they look smaller.
Jackson’s face instantly darkened. “You can’t tell they’ve been swapped?” He muttered with frustration, “These Platinum Arowana could only survive in the ancestral pond – said to be blessed for generations. That idiot from the Saunders family actually managed to overfeed them to death.”
Jensen blinked, then suddenly understood. “No wonder you’re trying to match Yunice and Wyatt.”
He sneered. “A jinx and a bringer of doom. Perfect match. I had always worried that Wyatt would marry someone powerful to back him. That face of his was good at fooling people.”
Jensen continued, “Can’t believe I never thought of that useless girl from the Saunders family. Dad, your move is brilliant. If Wyatt marries her and cuts ties with the Powell family, then he’ll have nowhere else to turn.”
That was exactly the plan. If we couldn’t control Wyatt, then we’d weaken him. There was no way we’d let him overpower the Powell family.
Jackson added, “Paul still needs to grow. This injury should serve as a wake-up call. He needs to understand what it means to be the heir of the Powell family.”
Jensen flushed. My own son was useless, spending all his time chasing women. No wonder Jackson didn’t support him this time. He didn’t dare bring up Paul’s injury again. Worried that Wyatt might refuse to marry Yunice, he said cautiously, “Yunice doesn’t have any official records. Should I get someone to forge her an identity?”
The old man waved a hand. “I’ve already arranged everything. You don’t need to worry about that.”
Meanwhile, Yunice felt something was off. The pillow beneath her head was too firm. She stirred only when the smell of medicine reached her nose. As she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was a black silk shirt. Its obsidian buttons shimmered mysteriously under the light. Realizing she was lying in a man’s arms, Yunice jolted upright.
Wyatt was lying on his side. Seeing her awake, he propped his head up with the arm that had served as her pillow. He looked completely at ease.
Yunice quickly scanned her surroundings. No one else was in the room except Wyatt. She reached for her collar, buttoned all the way to the top. Safe…
Noticing her subtle movement, Wyatt mocked, “You think I can touch you?”
I’m a cripple. That thing might as well not exist.
“No…” Yunice hadn’t been thinking that. She rummaged under the blanket, growing anxious. “Have you seen my scarf? The pink one with the fish…”
Wyatt paused, watching how much she cared about it. Then he pointed toward the nightstand. “It’s right there.”