Chapter 316 Great-uncle

Chapter 316 Great-uncle

"Don't you dare mention the CEO position to me!" The words ignited Michael like a fuse. He could no longer maintain his composure and snarled through gritted teeth, "William, don't think I don't know what you've been pulling behind the scenes! I know exactly what Charles is capable of. If you hadn't been stirring things up in the shadows, how could the West District project have gone wrong?"

William looked at Michael's flushed face, reddened from agitation. But instead of getting angry, his lips curved into a faint, disdainful smile. "So even now, you're still this stubborn. Looks like you haven't lost enough yet."

"Don't get cocky!"

Michael's eyes burned with resentment as he spat out each word. "At the end of the day, you just want to force me to hand Evelyn over to you! But let me tell you, William—forget it!"

His tone carried a desperate defiance. "Go ahead and keep helping Charles! I'm not going down that easily at the Johnson Group. Charles won't last long as CEO!"

William's face remained icy. "I'm giving you one more chance. Stop this childish behavior. Go file for divorce with Evelyn like an adult. It's better for you, for her, and for all of us. If you keep posting those attention-seeking posts online, I can't guarantee I'll be this civil with you next time."

Michael's heart skipped a beat. Then he suddenly laughed bitterly. "William, who do you think you are? You saw how much the internet supports me and Evelyn, and now you can't handle it, can you? I need you to give me a chance?"

William's gaze darkened. "On her deathbed, Imogen held my hand and begged me not to be too harsh on you. I've given you a chance. Whether you take it or not is up to you."

Michael's expression softened for a brief moment. But quickly, he shot back defiantly, "Don't pull that bluffing act on me! Did you ever really care about Imogen?"

His voice rose, his gaze filled with intense hatred as he glared at William. "If you really cared about her, you wouldn't have come after me this hard! It was you. And Evelyn. You two drove Imogen to her death!"

"Michael!" William's voice cut through the air like a blade, sharp and commanding. "I'm saying this one last time. This is your last chance."

His eyes were terrifyingly dark, and the pressure radiating from him was suffocating. His patience had clearly run out.

"I don't want it!"

Michael rejected him without hesitation, staring William down. "You've said all these high-minded things, but at the end of the day, you just want me to hand Evelyn over to you, don't you? Dream on!"

His tone was reckless and crazed. "Not only am I going to throw Evelyn the grandest wedding, but I'm going to spend the rest of my life with her! I'm going to make you, William, watch the woman you can never have stay by my side every single day for the rest of your life!"

Seeing William's cold, livid expression, Michael felt a rush of satisfaction after days of suppressed frustration. He let out a low laugh and met William's gaze, enunciating each word. "You'll never have her. Not in this lifetime."

In his eyes, Evelyn and William had long been in cahoots, setting traps to bring him down.

Otherwise, he couldn't fathom how Charles had managed to rise to power so quickly and forcibly drag him down from his position as CEO of the Johnson Group.

He'd sailed smoothly through life his entire life. He'd never been humiliated like this before. He couldn't swallow this insult.

The only thing that brought him any comfort now was watching William suffer, unable to have what he wanted.

As for the "chance" William spoke of? It was just a trap to lure him into submission. He wasn't stupid enough to fall for it.

On the day of Imogen's funeral, Michael wore a black suit. His face was pale from the recent surgery.

To avoid looking weak in front of anyone, he still held his back straight, holding my hand with one hand and carrying Isabella with the other, deliberately slowing his pace.

My fingers were ice-cold. Every step felt unbearable.

Especially when I felt the eyes of those around us—curious, probing, and carrying a certain air of "acceptance"—it felt like needles pricking my back.

If it weren't for William's instructions that day, telling me to go along with Michael as much as possible, I would never have appeared at Imogen's funeral with Michael like this.

Though I still had no idea what William was planning.

Michael was clearly enjoying this "family of three" attention. He frequently stopped to nod and greet the mourners, his arm intentionally brushing against my side in an intimate gesture that made my stomach turn.

Many of the guests were friends of the Johnson family and had come to pay their respects to them, so Michael had set aside an area under the Johnson family's name to receive mourners.

"Evelyn, why don't you entertain Mrs. Rogers? I'll take Isabella to say hello to Mr. Parker."

His tone was natural, as if we'd never separated, as if we were still a harmonious family.

I forced myself to swallow my discomfort and dealt with the mourners.

Not far away, William stood in the Brown family guest area, his brow slightly furrowed as he spoke quietly with several elders.

Occasionally, he glanced up at the portrait in the center of the hall, a trace of sorrow in his eyes.

We were only a dozen meters apart, yet it felt like we were in two different worlds.

He was busy handling Brown family matters, while I was trapped in this fake "family" by Michael.

Just then, a well-dressed older gentleman walked in the wrong direction and headed straight toward Michael's guest area.

William immediately stepped forward to greet him and redirect him.

Isabella saw him and immediately ran over, wrapping her arms around him and sweetly calling out, "William!"

William's expression softened. He was about to respond when Michael's voice cut in first.

He looked at his daughter sternly. "Isabella, how can you be so rude? Mr. Brown is Daddy's uncle. Technically, he is your great-uncle."

My heart tightened. I instinctively looked at William.

The softness on his face froze. The curve of his lips slowly faded.

Isabella tilted her head in confusion. "But Uncle William isn't that old. Why do I have to call him great-uncle?"

Michael crouched down, pretending to be patient as he patted his daughter's head. His voice was just loud enough for those around to hear. "In big families like ours, we have to respect hierarchy and moral principles. Only animals—worse than pigs and dogs—would disregard ethics and seniority. Understand?"

My heart sank. I was terrified William might not be able to hold back against Michael's provocation. What if they started a scene at Imogen's funeral?

But William was more composed than I'd imagined.

He acted as if he hadn't heard a thing. His face remained expressionless. He simply nodded slightly at the elderly gentleman and said, "This way, please."

Then he turned and led the man toward the Brown family guest area.

Michael watched his retreating figure, a cold smile curling at his lips.

When he turned back to me, his eyes were full of provocation. "What do you think, Evelyn? Shouldn't we teach our child that no matter what we do, we should always put morality and ethics first?"

"Michael, that's enough."

My voice was as cold as ice as I said quietly, "If you keep this up, I'm taking Isabella and leaving."

Michael let out a cold laugh. He squeezed Isabella's hand. "Come on, let's go apologize to William. Next time, make sure you use the right title."