Chapter 629: The Price of Power

The Jackson line of Powell Corporation was the main branch; all others merely followed its lead.

Now, with the rightful heirs pushed aside, these lesser branches actually had the nerve to try and take over?

Not a single decent person among them. Back when Wyatt was a child, they had done nothing but turn a blind eye while their sons bullied him.

And now they wanted him to be gracious? To just hand everything over in the name of family?

Even Yunice couldn’t stomach the hypocrisy.

You’d get more dignity putting a stray dog in the president’s seat than watching these old bastards grovel for power.

Wyatt let out a soft, scornful laugh, eyes dropping to a glacial calm. “If you wanted someone dead, you could’ve just said so. No need for all this posturing.”

The room went still. Then Wyatt looked up.

“There is only one heir to the Powell family—Paul. Anyone who touches what isn’t theirs better be ready to lose a hand.”

Outside, the sounds of a beating gradually died down.

Tension coiled in the air. The elders stiffened, jaws clenched—but none dared to argue.

Wyatt’s retaliation didn’t need blood. He broke people in ways that left no trace, pushed them to ruin with nothing but silence. That was what they feared most.

Yunice’s fingers rolled the string of fragrant agarwood beads at her wrist, her eyes cold and clear.

Desperate times called for ruthless measures. In the world of old-money families, that was the only way to survive.

She looked toward Paul, her thoughts aligning perfectly with Wyatt’s.

Powell Corporation was already hollowed out—not that these schemers had realized.

They thought they were fighting for power and wealth tonight. What they didn’t know was that the moment they “won,” they’d inherit a mountain of debt.

One day, they’d understand—Wyatt had saved them tonight.

And now, Yunice understood the full play. Paul had been clever, for once. He’d almost dragged her down with him.

With Powell Corporation doomed, whoever ended up in charge would be the first to take the fall. Paul had tried to position himself as the sacrificial scapegoat—so when everything exploded, he’d already be out of sight.

But Wyatt had ruined that escape plan.

He tied Paul’s fate to Powell Corporation’s collapse. If it fell, he’d fall with it.

Wyatt stood and held out a hand to Yunice.

From beneath her cloak, her slender hand reached out and rested in his palm.

She followed him without hesitation.

The elders’ eyes followed her every move, sharp with resentment, like they wanted to shift all their anger at Wyatt onto her.

Yunice caught those hostile stares and met them head-on with a mocking glance.

They think I’d be afraid of them?

The Powell family wasn’t just Wyatt’s enemy—it was hers, too.

She had helped push them toward ruin.

Let them hate her. Let them seethe in silence. It was finally their turn to grit their teeth and swallow their pride.

Yunice turned her head and flashed them a sly, taunting smile.

“Slut,” someone muttered.

Wyatt stopped in front of Paul, eyes dragging coldly over his face. Then he tore off the duct tape sealing Paul’s mouth.

“Your seat as the Powell heir? I just secured it for you. Enjoy.”

Once, Paul had basked in glory as the Powell family’s sole heir. They used to call him the little crown prince.

Now that nickname sounded like mockery.

Paul glared at him. “Was it you?”

Wyatt’s smile was laced with venom. “What did I do?”

Paul hesitated, unable to tell if Wyatt was admitting it or baiting him.

That smirk… it felt like a confession, but Paul dared not say it out loud. If word got out that Powell Corporation had already been hollowed out, he was finished.

Wyatt knew he wouldn’t dare ask directly—so he kept mocking him openly.

Yunice, watching from the side, suddenly had a realization. Does Wyatt think Paul was scammed by him?

His words had been loaded with implication.

Sure enough, Paul caught on and growled, “It was you!”

Wyatt just smiled without denying it.

Yunice’s heart sank. He’s taking the fall for me.

She was the one who’d orchestrated that trap. But Paul had misunderstood, and now he thought Wyatt had stolen his money.

She stepped in coldly. “You reap what you sow. Don’t you dare blame others for your own mess!”

Paul’s jaw tensed, his face twisted in fury. His red-rimmed eyes locked onto her. “So now you’re speaking up for him?”

Smack!

Wyatt slapped him across the face. Hard.

Paul was stunned.

Wyatt calmly adjusted the wedding band on his finger. Once Paul quieted down, he took Yunice’s hand and led her out of the memorial hall.

“To the hospital,” he said.