Rich Radiant and Over Him (Alicia and Vincent) novel Chapter 334

Tyrone Lynch let out a cold, derisive laugh and stood quietly outside the emergency room, his arms crossed.

After witnessing Marcus Lynch and Valery's true colors, Tyrone suddenly felt a sense of release. So this was what the old man had in mind before he passed—summoning these clowns for one last performance.

The door to the emergency room swung open. A doctor stepped out, removing his mask. “He’s stable for now, but we need to keep him under close observation in the ICU for forty-eight hours. If he gets through this critical period, we can transfer him to a regular care ward.”

Tyrone finally exhaled, relief flickering briefly across his face. The others, however, fell into a heavy silence.

They’d been squabbling like a pack of hyenas, convinced the old man would never make it. Yet here he was, still hanging on—refusing to die.

Easton Lynch let out a sneer. “Looks like the old man isn’t going anywhere. Plenty of time to finalize his will. Dad, Mom, maybe you should rethink your calculations.”

With that, Easton turned and strode away, his expression cold and impenetrable.

This is what passes for family in the Lynch dynasty—no love, just self-interest.

Easton had long since abandoned any hope for real affection from his parents. To them, he was nothing more than a tool—a means to bask in luxury and social prestige. Once they’d wrung every benefit from him, they’d tossed him aside without a second thought.

Tyrone fixed his gaze on the butler, his voice low and commanding. “Look after the old man. I’ll be staying here in Harboridge City for the time being.”

The butler nodded dutifully.

Tyrone turned and left with Alicia Shelton, leaving chaos in his wake as the family descended into another round of anxious bickering outside the emergency room.

“Marcus, what are we supposed to do now?” hissed one of the uncles. “No one’s allowed in the ICU. Once the old man’s out, he’ll have more than enough time to revise his will. If he leaves everything to Tyrone, we’ll be left with scraps!”

Marcus’s face was dark, and even Valery looked rattled.

Clutching Marcus’s arm, Valery whispered urgently, “Marcus… what if he really cuts us out of the will? What if we end up with nothing?”

She was panicking. After all, Marcus had once signed some ridiculous agreement, renouncing all claims to the Lynch family inheritance.

Valery’s expression soured. There was no way she’d let herself become dependent on her son’s charity. Especially now that Easton was older—more rebellious every year. What if, one day, he simply refused to support them?

And besides, why should Tyrone get a share of the old man’s fortune? He certainly didn’t need the money.

Valery’s face grew stormier the more she thought about it, anger simmering just beneath the surface.

“At this point, your only chance is if the old man doesn’t get around to making a new will,” the relatives muttered before drifting away, leaving behind a cloud of suspicion and resentment.

Marcus shot Valery a harsh look.

“We can’t let him write a new will. Is there… anything you can do?” Valery’s voice was barely a whisper.

Marcus glared at her, furious. “He’s my father. Are you seriously suggesting I do something myself—kill him?”

Valery shrank back, too frightened to answer.