Fated to My Ex's Uncle

Chapter 6

Yvonne saw Kenneth again two days later—at the Brown family banquet.

The Brown estate stretched across sprawling grounds, the main building renovated and expanded over generations until it stood magnificent, layered with the marks of each era.

The banquet had been scheduled for eight. But Kenneth's car didn't arrive until ten.

The Browns had been waiting at the entrance for two full hours, standing in the wind. Plenty of them had complaints, but none dared show it.

Yvonne stood at the back, watching Charlie Brown open the car door for Kenneth like a butler. "Kenneth, please."

In the darkness, Kenneth's towering figure was even more imposing than under daylight. The night gave him an extra layer of mystery, and the warm light spilling from the front porch stretched his shadow behind him like a king's coronation robe.

Now the "king" stood beneath the portico, his gaze sweeping over a sea of fawning, flattering faces.

Kenneth's brow creased with impatience, until his eyes landed on Yvonne.

She was tucked behind everyone else, the darkness softening her features. But her eyes were still bright.

He motioned to her. "You. Come here."

Instantly, the crowd parted like the Red Sea before Moses, and Yvonne was left standing alone in the open.

Yvonne had no choice but to walk up to Kenneth. "Kenneth, good evening."

At a look from Kenneth, Zayn immediately stepped forward holding something in his hands. It was a finely made box carved from costly wood. "A meeting gift for you, my future niece-in-law."

Hearing him stretch the words like that, Yvonne gritted her teeth in frustration.

He was clearly doing it on purpose, fully aware she wanted to end this engagement on the spot. Yet the others didn't care about her reaction at all. Their attention was locked onto the box Zayn had just opened.

Inside was a scroll painting, a masterpiece.

Charlie stared hard at the scroll. Even rolled up, he recognized it as the real deal. He'd tried to bid on it at a private high-end auction months ago, but lost to a mysterious buyer at $2.3 million.

So Kenneth was the one who'd bought it.

Charlie quickly shoved his son forward. "Hurry up and thank your uncle for the wedding gift!"

His greed made him conveniently ignore that Kenneth had said "a gift for my niece-in-law." He twisted it into "wedding gift." After all, Yvonne was marrying his son—what was hers was his son's, wasn't it?

Simon stepped forward eagerly. But before he could reach for it, Zayn blocked him. "This is for Ms. Stewart."

Yvonne didn't move.

She didn't know the exact price of the painting, but one look at the greed Charlie couldn't hide told her it was worth a fortune.

She couldn't figure out Kenneth's angle, but she knew one thing: there was no such thing as a free lunch.

"Yvonne! Take it!" Charlie urged.

Kenneth's patience was wearing thin. His dark eyes grew even deeper in the night. "What? You don't like my gift?"

Who would dare say that to him?

Yvonne rolled her eyes inwardly. With everyone watching, she didn't want to make a scene over a painting. She was about to accept it gracefully when Simon suddenly lunged forward, and in front of everyone, knocked the box to the ground.

"Why are you giving such a precious gift to her? I'm your nephew!"

The scroll rolled across the floor. Yvonne, being closest, rushed to pick it up.

Good news: the painting was intact. Bad news: one end of the scroll was cracked.

Chaos erupted.

Charlie snatched the painting from Yvonne's hands and examined the damage with a pained expression. The relatives swarmed around him, each offering unsolicited advice.

Yvonne hadn't even processed what happened before she was pushed to the outer edge. She stumbled, almost falling, until someone caught her.

"Thanks." She looked up and froze. It was Kenneth.

The warmth of his palm burned through her clothes, making her go rigid. The noise of the crowd seemed to vanish behind an invisible wall, leaving only his presence wrapping around her.

His tall frame blocked the night wind—and everyone else's view.

His hand held her waist, his voice barely a whisper, "Can you stand?"

Yvonne's heart pounded. This reminded her of that night before the engagement, when she'd pretended to be drunk and dragged him into a room at the club. He'd pinned her against the wall, held her waist just like this, and asked: Can you stand?

What had she said back then?

'Of course I can. Let go and see.'

"Of course I can stand," Yvonne forced herself to meet his eyes, just like that night. She raised a finger and traced it lightly over his abs through his shirt. "Let go and see."

Back then, she'd wanted to provoke Kenneth, the real power behind the Browns, to get out of the engagement. But since he wouldn't help her, she didn't need to please him. And she definitely couldn't show weakness.

Kenneth seemed to see right through her bravado. He let out a low chuckle and leaned in until their breaths tangled.

His breath brushed her ear as he nodded toward the Browns, still squabbling over the painting. "Look at them. A bunch of fools. And you're about to become my fool of a nephew's little bride."

The night wind swept through Yvonne's hair, and Kenneth caught that unique scent again, the one that calmed him.

Earlier, his presence had dominated hers. But now, her fragrance rode the night breeze, wrapping around him soft and slow.

Something tightened in his throat. A thought surfaced, unbidden: I want this scent for myself.

His voice dropped to a devil's whisper: "That night, you said you were satisfied with my 'service.'" A pause. "Tell me, will you need my 'service' again in the future?"