From Forgotten Wife To Fierce Queen - Chapter 239: Chapter 239

With everything that had happened, there was no way the banquet could continue.
"Apologies for not being a better host tonight. I'll make it up to everyone another time," Byron personally announced as he saw the guests off.
The attendees were perceptive enough to understand that the Beaumont family had internal matters to deal with. Not wanting to overstay their welcome, they exchanged polite farewells and left.
Reginald took in the situation and Byron's dark expression before patting Dominick on the shoulder. "We should leave too. Given how things are, it wouldn't be appropriate for us to stay."
If Dominick and Paisley were still married, the Vanderbilt family could have naturally remained. But they had been divorced for four years. Neither Dominick nor his family had any reason to linger.
Dominick's back stiffened as he slowly walked toward the exit.
At the doorway, Paisley was still curled up in Max's arms, crying. Her tears felt like raindrops falling straight into Max's heart, filling him with an unbearable ache.
Max gently stroked her back, but his gaze unintentionally locked with Dominick's as the latter brushed past him.
Instinctively, Max tightened his hold on Paisley, his deep eyes meeting Dominick's equally intense stare.
Dominick clenched his fists. He saw it clearly in Max's eyes—provocation and possession. He thought Max wanted to claim Paisley as his own.
Dominick's mind spiraled out of control, as he to rip Paisley out of Max's arms.
Kayla suddenly grabbed his arm. "Calm down."
She didn't want Paisley to be entangled with another man either, but she thought it was not the time to act recklessly.
Dominick's muscles tensed, but in the end, he forced himself to cool down.
"Take good care of her." Swallowing his jealousy, Dominick left those words behind before walking away from the banquet hall.
Once everyone had left, Byron's face darkened further. The anger he had suppressed for so long finally erupted in an instant.
He first glared at Tyson, who was sitting in a wheelchair. "So, you knew the truth from the beginning. Why didn't you say anything?"
Tyson had been watching Paisley with a worried expression. When he heard Byron's words, he finally turned to look at him.
Because Byron was the elder brother of the woman he loved, Tyson remained polite as he explained, "There wasn't enough concrete evidence before. I didn't want to alert the enemy."
Byron understood Tyson's reasoning. With a grim expression, he said nothing more.
"So, that girl is Enya's daughter?" Byron looked at Paisley.
Tyson's gaze returned to Paisley. "That's right."
Paisley had no idea how long she had been crying. By the time she gradually calmed down, Max's shirtfront was already soaked with her tears.
"I'm sorry." She stepped out of Max's embrace, looking at the damp patch on his shirt with embarrassment.
"Don't be formal with me." Max took a handkerchief from the pocket of his suit jacket and handed it to Paisley. "Here; wipe your tears please."
Paisley took the handkerchief and dried her face. At that moment, her nose and eyes were red, and her long eyelashes still had teardrops clinging to them.
She looked like a wounded, pitiful cub—just the sight of her made people want to protect her.
Max's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, cursing himself inwardly. He knew how devastated Paisley was right now, yet he still got turned on by her tear-streaked face at a time like this.
Max quickly composed himself. "Dad is really worried about you."
Paisley steadied herself and walked over to Tyson when he called her.
"Paisy, are you alright?" Tyson asked, his eyes overflowing with concern.
"I'm fine." Because she had just cried, her voice still sounded muffled.
Tyson wasn't in a good mood either. After all, he had just learned that the woman he loved had been killed by Christina—the very person Enya had considered a sister. The thought filled him with unspeakable frustration.
But the dead were long gone; there was no turning back. And from now on, he had another reason to keep going—his daughter, Paisley.
"Paisy, this is your uncle, Byron," Tyson formally introduced Paisley to Byron.
Paisley looked at Byron and nodded slightly. "Hello, Byron." She couldn't bring herself to call him "uncle" just yet.
Byron wasn't angry. On the contrary, as he looked at the stubborn girl in front of him, he saw traces of Enya in her. He thought, 'So this is Enya's daughter.'
"Alright." He nodded, though still feeling reluctant.
His tone softened. "From now on, if you ever need anything, just tell me. You're my niece, and the Beaumont family is your home."
As soon as Byron said this, all the members of the Godard family present were stunned.
Byron's words might have sounded ordinary at first, but everyone from the Godard family knew what they really meant—Byron was making his stance clear. He was recognizing Paisley's place in the Beaumont family.
He was also making it known to everyone that within the Beaumont family, he would be Paisley's strongest support. After all, Byron had never made such a statement for Brittany before.
From the moment Brittany was found until today's seemingly grand banquet, everything had been arranged by Morris and Julia.
Byron had barely even appeared in front of Brittany, which showed how little affection he had for Brittany as a niece.
Back then, Byron had only treated Brittany well because he had believed she was Enya's daughter. His kindness had come from guilt toward Enya. But now, it was clear that Byron truly liked Paisley.
Without waiting for Paisley to respond, Byron called the Godard family members to gather around.
First, he introduced the elders to her, then the younger generation. "These are your older cousins and their spouses."
Byron pointed at Peter and Diana as he spoke.
Paisley looked at them, her expression calm. "Hello everyone."
Hearing her greeting, Peter quickly smiled and responded, trying to bridge the gap between them. "Hello, my dear cousin."
Although he hadn't directly participated in the foolish things Morris and Julia had done, he had unknowingly helped them in some way. So now, as Peter faced Paisley, he couldn't help but feel a little awkward.
But the one who felt even more awkward than him was Diana. Unlike Peter, she wasn't feeling guilty—after all, she had never done anything to harm Paisley.
It was just that not long ago, Paisley had called her "Diana," but now she had suddenly become her cousin.
Diana had even once considered setting Paisley up with her son, Nathaniel.
"Paisy, I guess we were always meant to be family. You were destined to be part of the Beaumont family," Diana said, stumbling over her words.
"What do you mean by that?" Byron had no idea that Nathaniel liked Paisley.
"No, it doesn't mean anything. I just like Paisley," Diana quickly laughed it off. Byron was already in a bad mood today, and she couldn't risk making him even angrier.
After introducing his second son, William, and his family to Paisley, Byron turned to the younger generation. "These are your nephews and nieces."
Byron lazily waved his cane in Morris and the others' direction, his attitude extremely perfunctory. It was obvious that Byron had absolutely no regard for his grandchildren.
Seeing that the younger ones were frozen in place and not saying a word, Byron slammed his cane on the ground. "Why aren't you greeting her?"
Morris and Julia trembled, as if Byron's cane had struck them instead of the floor.
"Dear cous—cousin." Morris forced a stiff smile, his face pale.
Julia averted her gaze, not daring to look Paisley in the eyes. "Hello, dear cousin."
Not long ago, Julia had been calling Brittany "cousin" so sweetly. She had even helped Brittany suppress others and driven Paisley out of the Beaumont family.
Now, Julia's embarrassment was too overwhelming. She felt her body sway, completely numb. She was terrified that Paisley would take this opportunity to get back at her. If that happened, she and Morris would be finished.