Chapter 301: The Simp
Even Paul hadn't expected Taylor to slap someone. But as a man, he felt obligated to defend his woman—especially since Elsie had sold her family's assets to help him during his darkest days.
Paul barked, “You shrew! Ms. Elsie and I are completely innocent—what gives you the right to hit people?” He had only been lured here by someone else's scheme. Nothing had actually happened between them.
Taylor declared loudly, “She seduced a married man with no shame!”
Paul snapped back, “Any man stuck with a woman like you would want to find someone gentler!”
So he wasn't even trying to pretend anymore? Fine. Taylor would help him out.
“If you had real ability and actually earned your success, you could’ve married whoever you wanted. But too bad—you don’t. So you ended up with a shrew like me, and spent your life under my thumb. A simp.”
Those words hit like a sledgehammer. Paul’s face turned ghostly pale. He could feel the burning gazes of everyone around him. Finding a mistress wasn’t shameful. But finding one and still being dominated by your wife, unable to fight back? Now that was humiliating.
After today, he’d be the butt of every afternoon tea gossip in the capital—the man who lived off his wife.
Taylor made a gesture, and bodyguards led by Alan surged forward from behind her. “Take him away,” she ordered. The bodyguards moved in without question, grabbing Paul and hauling him off as he cursed and threatened to no avail. These weren’t just any bodyguards—they were from Taylor’s own family. Even the Powells would have to get her permission before dealing with them.
With Paul gone, Elsie was suddenly left all alone—and right at the center of the scandal. The stares from family and friends were enough to pin her to the spot. Back when Paul wasn’t married, they’d praised how well-matched she and Paul were.
Whether out of genuine distress or just putting on a show, Elsie’s legs gave out beneath her, and she collapsed to the ground. Owen and Lily rushed to help her up and took her straight to the hospital. A woman who had come with her kids followed closely behind, demanding Elsie give her an explanation. The scene turned into a noisy, chaotic mess as the group departed.
Oscar, watching it all unfold, spat on the ground. “Absolutely disgraceful.”
He turned and was shocked to find the banquet hall guests scattering like water. He hurried up to someone, tugged their arm, and asked with a forced smile, “Hey, we haven’t even celebrated Yunice’s birthday yet—why are you leaving?”
His uncle answered awkwardly, “Your mom, your sister, and your brother already left. The birthday party’s basically over. Why would I stay?”
Oscar said, “But Yunice’s still here, I’m still here. This whole party was for Yunice…” But his uncle waved him off and left without another word.
Oscar stood frozen, staring at the nearly empty banquet tables, the once-crowded room now dotted with just a handful of guests. A dazed expression settled on his face. Maybe now, he finally understood why Yunice had insisted on leaving this family. He sank into a chair, overwhelmed with regret. How was he supposed to face her after this? This kind of scene—wasn’t it like stabbing her in the heart?
What he didn’t see was Yunice quietly approaching behind him. Not everyone had left the hall. One family still remained. A young girl, maybe ten or so, suddenly jumped to her feet, eyes shining. “Yunice!”
Oscar looked up to see a distant relative—he couldn’t even recall their names—approaching Yunice. The little girl reached her first and stopped right in front of her, staring in awe. “Yunice, you’re so pretty—prettier than ever!”
Yunice wore a glamorous gown and had put on makeup, making her even more striking than usual. She gently patted the girl’s head, vaguely recognizing her. “You’re Lincoln’s granddaughter?”
Yunice nodded, then looked around at the now-empty banquet hall. The dishes hadn’t even been served, and yet everyone had already left. Of course, she knew why.
At that moment, Oscar approached her, guilt written all over his face. “I’m sorry, Yunice. I… I didn’t handle it well…”
Seeing him like that, Yunice felt a pang in her heart. She said, “It’s okay. I’m used to it.”
Used to it? Oscar looked at her in pain. Did this kind of thing happen more than once?
Before Yunice could answer, the old man behind them burst out in anger. “All because of that little bastard. Every year, whenever we try to celebrate Yunice’s birthday, she always throws a tantrum—fainting, feeling sick—dragging the whole family away and leaving Yunice to clean up the mess alone.”