Filed to story: The Daughter in the Shadows (Yunice) Book by Una Norris
Before Yunice could answer, Paul walked up behind him. “Why don’t we bring Yunice along?” he offered casually.
Owen frowned. They were heading to Longevity Springs-why bring her along?
Owen wasn’t sure what Paul was up to. But Paul had something else in mind. Yunice keeps saying Wyatt’s better than me? Fine. Let her watch how the Powell family handles someone with no place at the table.
Owen was too focused on Elsie’s engagement to care about Yunice, so he let Paul lead the way to Longevity Springs without saying a word. They walked fast, easily keeping pace just behind Wyatt.
Yunice trailed behind them, her view blocked by Owen and Paul’s tall frames. She kept her head down, lost in her own thoughts-until a sharp crack snapped her to attention.
A sharp crash echoed ahead. She looked up just in time to see a teacup shatter at Wyatt’s feet. The porcelain burst into pieces on the stone floor-right after slamming against his shoulder. But Wyatt didn’t even flinch. He stood there, motionless, steam rising from the shoulder of his black coat. That tea had to be burning hot.
Then came the voice from inside. “Don’t forget who’s still in charge here.”
Paul crossed his arms, smirking. “Jackson’s been calling for him for days. Guess he finally had enough.” He turned to glance at Yunice, smug. Like Wyatt getting humiliated was something worth bragging about.
Yunice ignored him. Instead, she looked to Owen. He stood off to the side, totally unfazed-like this kind of thing happened all the time. Like there was nothing wrong with it at all. He and Paul were clearly on the same team. And the higher Paul climbed, the better it was for Elsie.
Up ahead, Wyatt stepped over the shattered teacup. One hand braced against the doorframe as he crossed the threshold into Longevity Springs.
Yunice paused. She remembered that entrance from when she was younger. It didn’t used to be that high. Had they rebuilt it that way on purpose? Wyatt already had trouble walking. That steep step was clearly designed to trip him up. If Wyatt fell at the door, it’d be right in front of everyone-flat on the floor, humiliated, while all those eyes watched with nothing but judgment.
What a twisted mind.
Yunice followed them into the main hall. Paul dropped into a chair off to the side, slouching comfortably against the backrest with his arms draped over the armrests. If Jackson weren’t in the room, he probably would have thrown a leg over the other knee like he owned the place. Owen took the seat next to Paul. Even Yunice had a seat-though hers was set behind Owen, farther from the center. She hesitated before sitting down. When she looked up again, she realized there were no more empty chairs in sight. Wyatt stood alone in the center of the hall. No one had even thought to offer him a seat. Jackson took the main seat. Jensen wasn’t around, but his young wife, Linda, stood by Jackson’s side, dabbing at her tears with a handkerchief.
The moment she saw Wyatt, Linda began scolding him. “Wyatt, don’t blame Jackson for hitting you. You really crossed the line this time! You’re older-Paul’s your nephew. You’re supposed to let things slide. How could you beat him so bad he can’t even get out of bed?” Then she added, “If you’d come back right away and apologized, Jackson wouldn’t have been mad. But no-he sent people after you more than once, and you just ignored them. Isn’t that just you deliberately trying to piss him off?”
Wyatt leaned on his cane, one shoulder lifting slightly as he shifted his weight to save his strength. As he listened to the accusations Linda threw at him, a smirk tugged at his lips. His eyes and expression brimmed with mockery. He didn’t even look directly at Jackson. Instead, his sideways glance happened to land on Yunice, sitting quietly in the farthest corner. Maybe he hadn’t expected her to be there. Something flickered in his eyes for just a second, but it vanished quickly. He turned his head and gave Linda a look of cold amusement.
“All this effort just to put on a show? You really went all in to make your drama play out,” Wyatt adjusted his cane and took a step closer to Jackson. He didn’t even glance at Linda. His eyes locked on Jackson as he added with a cold smirk, “If you’ve got something to say, just say it. I’m not here to play along with your drama.”
“You arrogant punk!” Jackson slammed his hand on the table. With guests watching, he wasn’t about to let Wyatt challenge him like that. “Looks like it’s time I reminded you who’s in charge!”
Wyatt didn’t even flinch. He let out a dry chuckle. “You forget who you’re talking to? We don’t even share the same last name. What makes you think you get to tell me what to do?”
Jackson’s eyes bulged with rage. He slammed the table again and shot to his feet. “Bring in the rods! I’m going to deal with this disgrace of a son right here, in front of everyone!”
Jackson was doing this on purpose-putting on a show in front of outsiders so everyone would know that no matter how capable Wyatt was, he still had to answer to the Powell family. He wanted to make sure Wyatt understood the price of going against him.
As four men carrying heavy staffs marched into the hall, Paul felt a rush of excitement surge through him. He threw a quick look at Yunice, thinking, Let’s see if she’s still into Wyatt once he’s on the ground, beaten like a dog.
Yunice clutched the scarf around her shoulders, eyes locked on the four men approaching Wyatt.
When Wyatt showed no sign of backing down, Jackson exploded. “Hit him! Don’t stop until he gives in!”
Wyatt glared coldly at the men closing in. But no matter how tough you were, it was their turf-and around here, the Powell family called the shots. No one was going to stand up for him. Two enforcers stepped forward, grabbed him by the shoulders, and started forcing him down. The veins on the back of his hands bulged as he clenched his jaw and fought back. But at the end of the day, he was still a cripple-how long could he hold out? With a sharp crack, one of his knees hit the floor. Wyatt winced, his brow tightening-but that other leg held firm, refusing to give in.
Yunice flinched at the sound. Paul sat back with a smug grin, chin tilted up like he was enjoying the show unfolding in front of him. Owen didn’t react. He just watched with cold, detached eyes. Yunice tightened her grip on her scarf, eyes locked on Wyatt. Sweat clung to the tip of his nose. Even pinned down, he held his head high, his glare locked on Jackson, seething with rage. Jackson stared right back. Father and son-but in that moment, they looked like enemies ready to kill.
One of the men holding Wyatt stepped forward and kicked his cane to the side. Then, he nudged it even farther, making sure he couldn’t reach it. The cane rattled across the floor, landing right at Yunice’s feet. That finally drew Jackson’s and Linda’s attention to her-but neither of them seemed to care she was there. They looked away just as quickly. Wyatt had lost his only support. Behind him, one of the men raised his staff high-then brought it crashing down across Wyatt’s back with full force.
Wyatt didn’t let out so much as a grunt. He braced his hands on the ground beside him, stubborn and silent, refusing to back down or ask for mercy. Jackson’s eyes burned with rage. He wasn’t stopping.
Just as the second blow came down on Wyatt, Yunice reacted. If no one stepped in, Wyatt might not die, but he’d be badly hurt. But before Yunice could even rise to her feet, someone clamped a hand around her wrist. She whipped her head around in shock-Owen.
He sat there, cool as ever, still gripping her wrist, brow furrowed, giving her a subtle shake of the head. He knew Yunice was too softhearted for this, that the sight of blood turned her stomach, and that she wanted to speak up for Wyatt. But this was the Powell family’s show. It wasn’t their place to take the spotlight.
No matter how hard it was to watch, Yunice had to hold it in. She couldn’t risk bringing shame to the Saunders family. Yunice wavered, torn between staying quiet or breaking with Owen right then and rushing in to help Wyatt. But what could she actually do? She couldn’t pull Wyatt out of this, and she couldn’t clean up the mess afterward.
That one beat of hesitation was all it took-the third hit landed hard on Wyatt. He staggered forward, then straightened up again. His eyes locked onto Jackson’s, cold and coiled like a viper. He dragged the back of his hand across his mouth.
Something in that glare made Jackson flinch for half a second. But he was Wyatt’s father. What was he supposed to let the boy climb on top of his head? Keep going. Keep beating him. Beat him until he breaks. Until he begs.
Linda clutched her handkerchief so tightly her knuckles turned white. She watched each swing drop with barely concealed dread. She’s scared. But not just for Wyatt. The Powell family’s business was deeply tied to the Wellinges Group-the company Wyatt ran. If Wyatt got himself killed here, it would drag the Powell family down with him.
But Jackson was too far gone, consumed by rage. Unless Wyatt gave in first, no one dared say a word. Just then, Linda’s phone buzzed. She answered, listened silently, and then-with trembling hands-offered,
“Mr. Jackson,” she whispered. “It’s Jensen. He… he’s asking you to stop.”
Jackson gave Linda a suspicious look before taking the phone from her and pressing it to his ear. Jensen said only a few words, and Jackson’s face shifted. His eyes snapped up to Wyatt, then he threw up a hand. “Stop. That’s enough.”
Everyone turned to stare at him-especially Paul. No one could figure out what just happened or why Jackson suddenly changed course.
Then Jackson stood with a heavy look and made his way down the steps. “Paul, take Owen and feed the fish our back.” He’s sending them away. Owen, ever tactful as a guest, got up first. Paul looked like he wanted to argue but kept his mouth shut.
Just as the two were about to step away, a flicker of pink crossed their path. It was Yunice; her soft pink scarf wrapped around her shoulders. She bent down, picked up Wyatt’s cane, and-under everyone’s watchful eyes-headed straight toward him.
Owen instinctively reached out to stop her, but she slipped right past him. Yunice gripped the cane-tall as her waist-and strode up to Wyatt with zero hesitation. She crouched down in front of him, gently pried open his hand, and placed the cane into his palm.
Wyatt stared at her, stunned. For a split second, his eyes went unfocused. Yunice knew there were people in that room who probably hated her right now. But she didn’t care about their looks or their judgment. That crushing weight in her chest finally lifted.
This is it. I finally made it right. I finally stood up and said no. Linda gave Yunice a curious look. Jackson, on the other hand, shot her a cold glare, his face dark as thunder. But that pink scarf she had on…looked familiar somehow.
Paul turned just in time to see Yunice clearly taking Wyatt’s side. His fists clenched and his face twisted with rage. Why? Why did Wyatt take those brutal hits without flinching? Why didn’t he look broken? Was he not afraid of dying? Damn it. He really pulled it off in front of her.
Paul’s expression only cared more now. Seeing that Yunice had just pissed off half the room, Owen jumped in fast. “Mr. Jackson, Yunny’s got a condition. Sometimes she’s not in the right state of mind. Please don’t take it to heart.”
Jackson’s face relaxed a little. He had bigger things to worry about than picking a fight with her. Yunice stood up and left the hall without looking back. Owen rushed to catch up. Once they were alone in the courtyard, he grabbed her wrist and hissed, “Do you even realize what you’re doing? Who the heck do you think you are? This is the Powell family. This is not your stage.”
Yunice turned her eyes toward the artificial lake and didn’t even acknowledge him. What do I have to be scared of? Jackson’s not going to have me dragged out and beaten in front of everyone. And if the Powell family wants to take it out on someone, it’ll be the whole Saunders family. Honestly? I’d love to see that.
‘s Pawn
Owen clenched his jaw so hard it felt like his molars might crack. “Elsie’s about to marry into the Powell family. If you screw this up on purpose again, then as far as I’m concerned-you’re not my sister.”
Yunice, holding the bowl of fish food, flung a whole handful into the pond like she was chucking her anger right in with it. She clearly didn’t give a damn about Owen’s threat.
I had nothing to lose. Bring it on. I wasn’t scared of anyone’s dress shoes when I was already barefoot.
Owen didn’t bother arguing anymore. He turned back toward the hall.
Paul was at the doorway, pacing like a gossiping hen. Every few seconds, he stuck his neck out, trying to eavesdrop on whatever was going on inside.
Everyone was dying to know what the heck had gone down in there-what could have made Jackson do a full 180 and suddenly let Wyatt off the hook?
Inside the main hall, Jackson told Linda to shut the doors. The crystal chandelier cast a sharp glow over everything as Jackson stepped forward, his figure dark and looming over Wyatt. His voice was low, suspicious. “You took the Western Suburbs deal?”
That patch of land was chaos-completely lawless. Silverburgh’s power players had been fighting over it for years. Everyone wanted it, and no one could take it. And yet, somehow, Wyatt had pulled it off. The Wellinges Group was already celebrating with champagne. The Powell family? Dead last to hear about it.
Jackson locked eyes with Wyatt and felt a chill work its way down his spine. He’s got that same cold fire I had at his age. But it didn’t matter how sharp or ruthless Wyatt was. The Powell family would only ever have one heir. Let the side branches grow too tall, and they start choking the crown. Jensen-his eldest-had already lost to Wyatt one time too many. And now Wyatt had gone and claimed the Western Suburbs too…
Wyatt caught the scheming in Jackson’s eyes and let out a dry laugh. “You’re trying to have me killed so you can take the Western Suburbs land for yourself?”
Jackson didn’t say a word. No guilt. No denial.
Still kneeling, Wyatt leaned back with that signature devil-may-care attitude. “Without me, you really think that loser Jensen can handle the Western Suburbs?”
Jackson’s eyes twitched. Behind his back, his fist clenched until the joints cracked.
Wyatt smirked. “Whoever takes the Western Suburbs becomes a target. I was willing to risk it. You people at the Powell house? You’d never dare.”
Jackson’s face went pale. Wyatt had nothing to lose. But the Powell empire? It was too bloated, too big to gamble like that.