Chapter 634 The Weaver Family's Newlywed Turmoil
Meanwhile, ay the Weaver mansion.
Early morning sunlight filtered through the mansion windows as Abigail was jolted awake by laughter from the adjacent room.
Still groggy from sleep, she followed the sounds and pushed open the door to find her husband of less than twenty-four hours sitting in bed with two scantily-clad women.
The three were ostensibly playing cards, though the game itself hardly mattered—the intimate atmosphere spoke volumes.
"What is this supposed to mean?" Abigail demanded, pregnancy hormones fueling her rage. "Bringing prostitutes home on our wedding night? What am I to you?"
Her voice carried through the halls as she continued, "You worthless man! What's the point of all these women when you can't even perform?"
Oliver, feeling his dignity severely wounded, jumped from the bed. "You nasty bitch! How dare you insult me!" Without hesitation, he slapped her hard across the face.
CRACK!
"I'll beat you to death, you shameless whore!" he shouted. "You really think marrying into the Weaver family makes you important? Keep dreaming!"
"You say I can't perform? All of this is because of your disgraceful behavior!"
The thought enraged him further, and he raised his hand to strike again. Abigail, no pushover herself, grabbed a nearby vase and swung it at his face. She missed, but Oliver's second slap connected squarely with her cheek.
"My God! What are you doing? Stop this immediately!"
Patricia rushed upstairs, witnessing the scene with apparent horror. She kicked Oliver away and carefully helped Abigail downstairs, suggesting they have a private conversation.
This wasn't the first humiliation Abigail had endured since becoming a Weaver.
Just last night, after the wedding celebration, Patricia had lured her into a small, darkened room where doctors waited.
Without ceremony, they forced her legs apart for an examination—allegedly to confirm whether the baby in her womb truly belonged to Oliver.
The message was clear: if the child was Oliver's, she would be welcomed as a legitimate member of the Weaver family.
If not, her marriage would merely serve as the Weavers' tool to forge connections with the Johnson family and, by extension, access to Maple Group's chairman Ryder.
Abigail hadn't been entirely certain the child was Oliver's. Fortunately, the examination results proved satisfactory.
Patricia's attitude toward her had immediately transformed, becoming almost sickeningly sweet.
Now, Patricia personally applied a warm egg to Abigail's reddened face, a traditional remedy for bruising.
"This is entirely Oliver's fault, that wretched boy," Patricia sighed as the egg cooled in her hand. "I suppose he's suffered without a father's guidance. I'll discipline him properly so this never happens again. You rest now, dear."
"Thank you," Abigail replied graciously, while inwardly despising Patricia's transparent hypocrisy.
She hadn't forgotten last night's degradation, and now this morning's violence had planted deeper seeds of resentment.
Patricia returned to Oliver's room, finding the half-dressed women still present.
Fury rose within her as she grabbed Oliver by the ear and berated him thoroughly before dismissing the women.
Once alone with her son, Patricia calmed herself and earnestly explained the family's precarious position.
The Weaver elders valued family unity above all else—this deadly animosity between Oliver and Abigail couldn't continue.
Oliver fumed. "Why should a woman like Abigail carry my child? She's nothing but a shameless slut! Why can she sleep around while I can't bring women home?"
His anger wasn't entirely unfounded. At yesterday's wedding, among the scandalous videos exposing Tyler's debauchery had been clips of Abigail with Tyler.
Though most wouldn't recognize her, Oliver knew about the distinctive birthmark on her left buttock.
"I never wanted this marriage," he continued bitterly. "And seeing her promiscuity only confirms I was right."
Patricia's expression hardened. "We've discussed this. The Young family has fallen. Maple Group is ascending rapidly. The Johnson family will rise with them."
"Even so, you must treat the Johnson family with respect. Abigail may be worthless, but the Johnsons are closely connected to Maple Group. If we maintain good relations with Maple, controlling the Weaver family will be assured."
Patricia genuinely sympathized with her son. Being cuckolded was humiliating for anyone.
Yet compared to Dylan, Oliver lacked the strength to control the Weaver family without external support. His current humiliation was temporary—a means to an end.
"I—" Oliver began defiantly, but words failed him.
After a long silence, he reluctantly agreed to Patricia's demands, though resentment festered within him. He hated Abigail, but he hated Ryder more.
Without Ryder's emergence, would he—the rightful Weaver heir—be reduced to such indignity? Certainly not.
"Someday I'll control the Weaver family and swallow Maple Group whole!" he vowed silently, knowing he must endure this humiliation a while longer.
Across town, another family drama was unfolding. The entire Johnson clan had gathered outside the villa where Ryder and his group were staying.
They knocked repeatedly, but no one answered.
Anthony frowned. According to his information, Ryder, Sarah, Rex, Barbara, Ryan, and Clara had all returned to the villa last night. Subsequently, several doctors had come and gone.
Learning that some of them might be injured, Anthony had immediately gathered the family for this wellness check. Yet the continued silence from within was becoming concerning.
The Johnsons weren't alone in their eagerness to connect with Maple Group's chairman.
The Moores and Weavers sought to curry favor through their Johnson family connections, but the Johnsons themselves had the most to gain—or lose—based on their relationship with Ryder.
As Aurora City's power dynamics shifted dramatically following the Young family's collapse, everyone was repositioning themselves.
The Johnsons stood at a crucial intersection, their future tied directly to Maple Group's mysterious chairman.
Yet as they continued knocking at the silent villa, a sense of unease began to spread through the family.
Where was Ryder? And what had happened last night?
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