Chapter 674 No More Illusions

Wyatt’s voice dropped to a glacial chill, laced with the threat of violence. “So you do know it could kill someone?”

They wouldn’t dare use it on the old woman–but they had no problem using it on his wife? That only made it more infuriating.

The bald bodyguard stepped forward without hesitation. Click. He chambered a round and pressed the cold muzzle to Shane’s forehead.

Madam Mary panicked instantly. “You won’t leave us even a shred of mercy?!”

Wyatt replied, “Mercy only gives people like you room to escalate. And in the end, it’s my wife who pays for it.”

The old woman slumped in her chair. She understood now–Wyatt had never seen the Johnson family as anything more than tools. There was never a shred of true affection.

If they’d known from the start that Yunice was the one he truly cared about, they never should’ve challenged her again and again.

If she had treated Yunice kindly back when Yunice saved her, maybe today Wyatt wouldn’t be so ruthless.

But now… it was far too late.

Shane collapsed to the floor, unable to even breathe properly, too terrified to plunge the needle into his own mother.

Wyatt said flatly, “Help him.”

The bald man holstered his gun and grabbed Shane by the collar. He signaled to two others to restrain the old woman in her wheelchair.

Then he seized Shane’s hand and drove the straightened suturing needle into Madam Mary’s vein–deep, until it vanished completely beneath the skin.

It wasn’t a painful process, physically–but the psychological weight of it was crushing.

Madam Mary trembled violently. And the moment she saw the needle disappear into her body, her head lolled, and she passed out cold.

Shane didn’t dare take a full breath.

He turned to Wyatt, gasping, desperate. “Mr… Mr. Wyatt… is that enough?”

His mother had been punished. He was just an accessory. Surely, he wouldn’t be pushed further?

Wyatt didn’t respond.

But Shane heard a click.

The sound of a lighter.

He turned to look. Yunice was holding a slim black cigarette between her fingers. A man’s cigarette.

The end glowed red as she inhaled–then she coughed, hard.

Wyatt snapped out of it. He quickly took the cigarette from her lips and frowned. “You don’t know how to smoke. Don’t mess with this.”

Tears welled up in her eyes from the coughing. She looked aggrieved. “How do I put it out?”

Meeting her eyes, Wyatt said, “I’ll find you an ashtray.”

He looked up–and crooked his finger at Shane.

Confused but obedient, Shane bent his stiff body and shuffled over to Wyatt.

“Hold out your hand,” Wyatt instructed.

Shane looked into his eyes, and, trembling, obeyed. He held his palm out in front of Yunice.

With an elegant motion, Yunice lifted her hand and gently pressed the burning cigarette into his palm.

Shane twisted in agony like a worm having a seizure–but his outstretched hand didn’t move a millimeter.

He had to let her take it out on him. It was the only way he was getting out of here in one piece.

The cigarette slowly curled, sizzling. When the fire went out and the burnt smell filled the room, Yunice finally lifted her fingers.

Shane still didn’t dare lower his hand.

Yunice asked calmly, “What about Morgan?”

Shane’s voice was hoarse. “However the law decides, that’s how it’ll be. The Johnson family won’t interfere.”

Yunice added, “Nora has offended me. If you get any leads…”

Shane immediately said, “I’ll bring her to you personally!”

He really did know how to play the game.

Yunice said, “Get lost.”

His face went pale–humiliated by a woman, but he didn’t dare show a flicker of anger.

He would never mess with Yunice again. Because today, he realized she wasn’t some fragile little housewife.

She was just as ruthless as Wyatt.

He quickly lifted Madam Mary back into her wheelchair and pushed her out the door.

The needle inside her could be surgically removed. It wouldn’t kill her–but she’d suffer plenty.

Inside the office…

Wyatt adjusted his slacks, then walked over to Yunice and held out his palm. “Babe, want to burn me too? Let it out.”

Yunice pulled a new cigarette from his jacket pocket, bit down on it, and lit it with a practiced flick.

She inhaled–this time, she didn’t cough.

Wyatt stared at her in surprise.

She raised her hand, cigarette poised with effortless grace.

The smoke curling from her lips, sultry–beautiful and dangerous.

Wyatt was stunned.

The smoke drifted between them. Yunice’s gaze slowly swept over his face from behind the haze, cool and amused.

She hadn’t planned to show this side of herself so soon.

But maybe… there was nothing to hide.

She could smoke. She could fight. She could plot. She could lie.

She wasn’t his sweet little cupcake.

Wyatt’s eyes dropped briefly to her school uniform–then back up to her face.

“Babe,” he said, “you’ve got a hell of a personality.”