After divorce, Ex-wife Revealed Identities

Chapter 831

Tyrell looked at Franklin with a dark expression. His son, whom he had once ruthlessly manipulated,

now refused to listen to anything he said. This angered and embarrassed him, leaving him feeling

somewhat helpless. This feeling was heightened by Sylvia finding someone to cure Franklin's illness,

completely removing him from Tyrell's control. Tyrell had initially intended for Franklin to be his pawn,

but that idea now seemed unattainable.

His malicious gaze fell on the woman who appeared behind Franklin at the same time. Her face was as

cold as frost, her calm eyes devoid of any emotion; yet just one glance from her was enough to make

one feel like they were being sucked into a vortex.

"Perfect timing for Miss Andrews to appear," Tyrell whispered softly, his fingers caressing the sleek fur

of the black cat nestled in his arms, a malevolent gleam in his eyes. "Hand over the painting now, and

we shall depart without delay."

Franklin responded icily, "The painting was bought for 50 million dollars and has no connection to you."

Each encounter with his adoptive parents stirred up strong emotional turmoil, as his demeanor exuded

an unsettling undercurrent of tension.

The urge to break free from this feeling overwhelmed him; however, he managed to hold back.

"Since you're my son, your money is my money," Tyrell sneered menacingly. "Therefore, it doesn't just

belong to me-it belongs to the entire Maskelyne Family!"

A tense atmosphere enveloped them, with the threat of violence hanging in the air. Franklin felt as

though Tyrell could snap his neck at any given moment if he didn't comply and surrender the painting.

"We've raised you through thick and thin, so is it too much to ask?" Mrs. Maskelyne impatiently rolled

her eyes. "Don't forget that your sister died because of you! We've done everything for you... you

ungrateful brat! Can't you at least offer us a simple painting? You're just a drain on our resources!"

Sylvia's anger flared as she contemplated the couple's audacious words. "Firstly, Franklin wasn't raised

by both of you. It was the late Mr. and Mrs. Maskelyne who took care of him after you left him under

their care. The two of you have been living abroad without returning even once. They are the ones who

truly went through thick and thin!"

"Secondly, your daughter's death was caused by human traffickers. This has been investigated and

proven long ago. Don't blame Franklin for her tragic fate."

"Lastly, Franklin was raised by the Maskelyne family, including the late Mr. and Mrs. Maskelyne. He

should report to them, not to you heartless individuals."

"He is neither a villain nor a pawn you can manipulate or insult at your whim." NôvelDrama.Org owns this.

Sylvia rarely found herself engaging in arguments, but this time she couldn't hold back. She looked at

the couple with impatience, her gaze as cold as ice.

Mrs. Maskelyne's dislike for Sylvia grew, despite her inferior martial arts skills compared to her own.

Enough was enough.

Filled with frustration and anger, Mrs. Maskelyne exclaimed, "Sylvia, you have no right to speak about

our family matters like this! Be sensible and hand over the painting!"

"Don't think that just because there are more of you and your lackeys, it gives you any advantage over

me! Do you believe strength comes from numbers? It seems like every time someone ends up beaten,

it's always from your side!" Sylvia fired back without even glancing up, refusing to back down.

Normally she wouldn't say much but if push came to shove, then actions spoke louder than words.

Franklin felt surprised yet touched as she defended him in her own way.

He felt moved while gazing affectionately at her pretty face which exuded elegance even when arguing

with others.

Jasper expected Sylvia to charge straight ahead, but instead, she skillfully shut them down verbally.

However, everything she said made perfect sense.

Tyrell demanded, "Sylvia, what gives you the right as an outsider to meddle in our family affairs?"

Sylvia lifted her chin slightly, locking eyes with Tyrell. "Is that so? I'm his wife. Don't act like you're too

good for me. I don't even like you two as my in-laws, let alone as parents. So... where are my real in-

laws?"

Caught off guard, Mrs. Maskelyne was unable to react in time before Sylvia swiftly moved.

Her movements were lightning fast, and in the next second, Mrs. Maskelyne felt a piercing sensation in

her lower abdomen as a silver needle seared through her clothes.

A tingling sensation accompanied the sharp pain, leaving Mrs. Maskelyne feeling as though her

meridians had been blocked, evoking a sense of panic and agonizing pain similar to an asthma attack.

Confused and in pain, she gasped, "What did you do to me?"

"Sylvia! You-"

"Let go of me!"

"Help! Honey, save me!"

Tyrell and the others were still in shock, not comprehending what had transpired with Mrs. Maskelyne.

Then, suddenly, a strange sound emanated from Mrs. Maskelyne's body, followed by a crackling noise.

An unpleasant odor filled the air as Mrs. Maskelyne's expression turned despairing, and liquid trickled

down her legs and onto the floor.

Everyone looked on in shock…

They all covered their noses immediately upon seeing it.

Mrs. Maskelyne herself became extremely nauseous!

She actually wet herself while experiencing such despair and agony!

In this foul stench, she closed her eyes painfully screaming, "Sylvia, I will kill you for this!"

"What did you do to me?"

By now, Sylvia had already quietly pulled out the silver needle, and retreated several meters back to

Franklin.

Sylvia covered her nose, trying to mask the stench. "How noble of you, Mrs. Maskelyne. Such an

interesting hobby you have-wetting yourself publicly! I can hardly believe it. Perhaps headline

journalists would love to hear your story."

"What are you talking about?" Mrs. Maskelyne stared at Sylvia in fear. The intense pain made it hard

for her to breathe, and she felt a strong urge to escape and clean herself up. She could even feel the

foul-smelling objects sliding down her legs and piling up on the floor.

Tyrell and the men in Black also caught a whiff of the stench and looked at Mrs. Maskelyne in disbelief.

"Honey... what's wrong with you?"

"Honey, it's Sylvia. I don't know what she did to me, but my stomach is in excruciating pain and I can't

bear it!" Tears streamed down Mrs. Maskelyne's cheeks, adding to her embarrassment.

She realized she needed to explain the situation clearly to Tyrell and avoid any lingering psychological

shadows. If he lost interest in her, what kind of future would she have? Yet, when she saw the blue

shade on Mrs. Maskelyne's face caused by her own foul mood, Sylvia couldn't help but almost burst

out laughing.

This was just a simple acupuncture technique, targeting an acupoint on her lower abdomen to stimulate

intestinal peristalsis. It was supposed to help with constipation, but Mrs. Maskelyne had unexpectedly

experienced an immediate bowel movement. If she had been constipated, this might not have

happened...

"Hurry up and leave!" Tyrell's anger mounted as his wife caused a scene in public. The embarrassment

not only affected him in front of his subordinates but also tarnished his image in front of Franklin.

The strong waves of the stench filled the hallway, making Tyrell almost vomit. "Let's go, take Mrs.

Maskelyne and leave!"

Jasper and Franklin were both on the verge of laughter, watching Tyrell desperately holding his nose.

Sylvia couldn't help but give herself a mental thumbs up for her clever move. Awesome!

It's really awesome.

At this moment, the elevator doors opened.

Suddenly, a large group of reporters emerged.

Suddenly, a flurry of applause erupted, directed at Tyrell and Mrs. Maskelyne. "Mr. Maskelyne, Mrs.

Maskelyne, we've heard about your recent breakthroughs in your experiments. Rumor has it that you're

planning to hold a press conference soon?"

"Hey, what's that awful smell?"

"Is the hygiene of such a high-end hotel so poor? There's even a stench in the air!"

"Oh my goodness! Are you kidding me?"

"It seems like the foul odor is coming from Mrs. Maskelyne."

"Oh my goodness, Mrs. Maskelyne, did you just let out a public fart?"

The elegant Mrs. Maskelyne, a prominent figure in her research lab, found herself in a compromising

situation. Despite the foul stench, a reporter bravely held up his microphone to ask her a question.

"Mrs. Maskelyne, is this your lab's new cure for constipation? Are you still in the testing phase? It

seems to work so well that you couldn't hold it in?"

Mrs. Maskelyne's usually composed face now revealed a mix of embarrassment and anger, bordering

on hysteria.

"Enough! Everyone, please leave! We're not granting any interviews!" Tyrell finally roared out loud,

putting an end to the commotion.