Ex-Convict To Mysterious Power

Chapter 8

A young, stern-looking man led Grandma into the hall, slow and steady, like she was some fragile antique worth millions. That man was Tyler.

One of those types who would shoot you a death glare if you so much as hinted that luck had a hand in their success. Tyler was dressed head-to-toe in a matching designer sweatsuit that screamed money—but let’s be honest, if not for the old woman he was guiding in, the best he’d be wearing was clearance-rack Walmart.

Orphaned young. Raised by Grandma. Won her favor. Now practically heir-apparent. But sure, no handouts there, right? Cole let out a silent scoff.

Almost as if they heard it, Tyler and Grandma’s gazes snapped toward him at the same time.

Grandma didn’t waste a beat. Her eyes scanned the crowd, sharp and accusing, until they landed on Amanda.

“Haven’t you brought enough disgrace to this family by marrying this useless rag?” Her voice sliced through the hall, far too loud and strong for someone with one foot in the grave.

“Actually, Granny—” Amanda began, trying for diplomacy.

“I don’t want to hear a single word. Divorce him.” She turned and started off again, her cane thudding dramatically like punctuation to her decree.

“Granny, he didn’t do it,” Amanda’s voice rang out boldly.

The old woman stopped mid-step. Turned around slowly. Her wrinkled face twisted into a scowl.

Amanda dared talk back?

“He…he told me what happened, Granny. He only took the fall because he wanted to help my company. Isn’t that the kind of man you always said I should marry? Someone who cares about the family business—who protects it, even when no one asks him to…”

Tiffany scoffed. So did nearly everyone else in the room.

But Amanda kept going, desperate, her voice growing louder. “I’ve given him five days. If by then he doesn’t bring the evidence, I’ll divorce him. I swear.”

“What…?” Grandma’s voice barely made it out, thin and disbelieving. She turned to Tyler, who was still standing loyally by her side. “What did she just say?”

Tyler shrugged. “You heard her, Granny. Her husband isn’t capable of rape,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm so thick it could’ve clogged a pipe.

“I give you two seconds!” Grandma's voice thundered suddenly, slicing the air. A toddler in the corner flinched and grabbed their mother.

“Divorce him. Now!”

All the fire Amanda had built up extinguished on the spot. Her spine folded slightly. Her eyes dropped to the floor. Silence swallowed her up.

“Am I talking to a log of wood?” Grandma snapped, each word sharpened like glass.

“Hey.” Amanda’s mother nudged her. “Divorce him,” she whispered, breath quickening with panic.

“I just want to give him a chance to prove himself,” Amanda whispered back.

“Chance my foot. Will that pay our bills when Grandma kicks us out?!”

Then Tyler stepped forward.

“Why am I not surprised?” he muttered. “This isn’t the first time.”

Every head turned.

“Granny,” he said, not even bothering to hide the disdain in his voice, “is this the first time she's gone against your instructions?”

Grandma blinked, no answer. But her eyes spoke volumes.

“If we’re being honest,” Tyler continued, tone now fully embracing his role as the perfect grandson from hell, “she’s always been like this. Letting emotions override logic. Acting like you neglected her when all you did was treat her like everyone else.”

And the worst part, grandma was eating it up. Swallowing every word like it was scripture.

“Was it not just four years ago,” Tyler added, voice rising theatrically, “that she got five measly deals and started acting like she founded this entire family?”

He looked around, slowly, like he wanted applause for remembering the timeline.

And of course, the others nodded. They already hated Amanda—always had. They just never had the guts Tyler did to say it out loud.

“This little girl…” he turned to Amanda with venom in his eyes, “Don’t we all know how she got those deals? Sleeping her way to the top.”

“Granny, tell him to withdraw that right now!” Amanda snapped, voice trembling. “Tell him!”

But Granny said nothing. She didn’t even blink. Instead, she gave Amanda a long, quiet look—one that asked: ‘Are you really going to sit here and pretend that’s not what happened?’

Amanda’s entire face collapsed. Her lips parted in disbelief. No. No, this couldn’t be happening.

“Granny…?” she whispered, clinging to the edge of denial like it was oxygen.

“I think you should step in before this explodes,” Amanda’s mother whispered to her husband, panic creeping into her tone.

Amanda’s father wetted his lips, opened his mouth—then closed it again. Swallowed hard. Looked away. Powerless.

Tyler wasn’t about to stop. “Now you're sitting there pretending to be a saint—like I just said something blasphemous. You're no different from a—”

WOSH!

The room froze.

Cole’s palm had just collided with Tyler’s cheek. Hard.