Filed to story: The Daughter in the Shadows (Yunice) Book by Una Norris
Yunice was speechless. Then why bother letting me choose at all? Supposed to listen to?
Not wanting to cause trouble, Yunice relented. “Go with his choice.”
So the associate brought out even flashier, more eye-catching diamonds.
Wyatt held Yunice’s hand as he slipped on each ring. If he didn’t like it, he’d swap it out for the next. Yunice’s palm started to tingle from the gentle drag of his fingertips. She resisted the urge to pull away. Fortunately, the round of fittings didn’t last long.
The saleswoman watched Wyatt closely, but his expression didn’t soften. Cold sweat broke out on her back.
Noticing this, Yunice picked up the first ring-the massive one. “After all that, I think I like this one best.”
Wyatt narrowed his eyes. “Do you actually like it-or do you just like that it’s expensive?”
Yunice didn’t know if she was overthinking it, but that question felt layered. He wasn’t asking about the ring; he was asking about their marriage.
Before she could answer, Wyatt added, “There’s a royal heirloom pair of rings up for auction at the Gelt event today. I’ll take you to see it.”
Yunice didn’t want to make a fuss, but she couldn’t exactly say no either.
Wyatt stood and pushed the entire tray forward. “Wrap them all up for her.”
Yunice’s eyes widened. Why would she need thirty different diamond rings in all shapes and sizes? Even if she used her fingers and toes, there weren’t enough to wear them all at once.
The jewelry box was handed to her. It was light-but worth more than most people’s lives. Maybe this is what it feels like to marry into money, she thought.
As Yunice walked past him, arms full of wealth, Paul remained hidden in the shadows. He didn’t leap out or demand answers. He just clenched the raffia ring in his hand. Compared to the high-end diamonds Wyatt bought her, the little straw ring he’d once given Yunice seemed childish and pathetic.
That image consumed him. More than Yunice’s supposed “resurrection,” what hurt most was how easily she seemed to have moved on. He hadn’t let go. So why had she?
Paul jumped into his car and followed them straight to the Gelt auction house. It was an elite, anonymous auction. Guests were handed masks at the door to conceal their identities.
Wyatt didn’t bother with any of that. He walked in confidently, with Yunice on his arm. They bypassed every check and went straight to the VIP front row. Being that close to the showcase-that was the privilege Wyatt granted her.
Of course, Yunice wasn’t new to these kinds of events. But under her current identity, she had no business attending them anymore.
Paul took a mask, but without a reservation, he was stuck in the back row. All he could see was the back of Yunice and Wyatt’s heads. But he made a silent vow. Whatever Yunice wants tonight-I’ll buy it first.
The royal wedding rings were the evening’s final item-the showstopper. Before that, the auction offered a string of appetizers: porcelain, fabrics, rare flowers, even a lighter and a horseshoe. It felt less like a luxury auction and more like an upscale flea market.
What caught Yunice’s attention was Wyatt bidding on several lots of fabric-items no one else was interested in. He secured them easily. Then a Dunhill lighter came up. Yunice leaned forward slightly, her gaze lingering on it. But Wyatt wasn’t looking at the stage; his eyes had shifted, sharp and cold, aimed at the general seating above them. Someone was ogling Yunice’s legs through the sheer layers of her dress. The man’s gaze had gone a bit too low, a bit too long.
As if he could feel Wyatt’s warning through the air, the man jumped to his feet and bolted from the room. Someone else bought the lighter. Yunice shifted back slightly in her seat, only then noticing that Wyatt’s arm was draped along the back of her chair, his entire posture angled protectively around her. He looked down-thanks to the height difference, all he could see was the curve of her lashes and the tip of her nose. His voice was low. “You liked that lighter?”
Before she could answer, he raised his paddle and said casually, but with a clear edge, “Bring it back. Re-auction it.” Re-auction? At a one-and-done, no-return event like this? Yunice quickly whispered, “Wyatt…” He cut her off. “If you want something, just tell me. I’m not a mind reader. Don’t expect me to guess.” He leaned back in his chair with a scowl, pulling out a cigarette case.
The auction organizer rushed over, bowing, holding the just-removed lighter. “Mr. Wyatt, there’s no need to bid again. Mr. Zimmer said… consider it a gift.” A gift? That word was way too generous.
She took it. It was weighty-made of crocodile leather, with gold and platinum components that resisted tarnish, and fueled by windproof, waterproof alcohol. Very sleek. Very functional. Wyatt held the cigarette in his mouth and patted his pockets, pretending to search for a flame. Then came the soft click of a lighter. He looked up. Yunice held the flame out for him, close to his cigarette. Wyatt stared at her through the flame, his eyes filled with something predatory and amused. He leaned forward slightly. The fire caught the tip of the cigarette. Paul, seated far behind, was fuming-literally grinding his teeth. Wyatt leaned back again, cigarette between his fingers. “Nice lighter,” he said with unhurried satisfaction. Yunice turned her attention back to the auction. But Wyatt’s eyes never left her.
Then came the final item, the royal wedding rings. Whispers buzzed through the crowd-everyone knew this wouldn’t be easy. Plenty of engaged couples or hopeful romantics were ready to fight for this one-of-a-kind token of love. Token of love? The phrase startled Yunice. She didn’t look at Wyatt for a long time after that. The starting price was announced. Bidding began in a flurry-but Wyatt didn’t lift his paddle. He could’ve stepped in at any moment and taken control, but he just… waited. Instead, he took off his jacket and tossed it onto Yunice’s lap. “It’s hot,” he said. So used to ordering people around. Yunice folded the jacket neatly and placed it on her lap, their heads close together. Then his phone rang. Elsie. She asked why he’d left so suddenly. He just said he had something to do. She didn’t pry. Her voice softened. “Paul… did you forget something important?”
Irritated and distracted, Paul snapped, “Can’t think of anything.” Elsie picked up on his mood and backed off, voice barely a whisper. “Okay… I’ll leave you to it, then.” She hung up first. Paul’s frustration only grew. Once upon a time, he’d thought more women meant more excitement. He’d enjoyed the variety, felt powerful. Now he had Elsie-sweet and careful-and Taylor, who came with power and influence. On paper, he had it all. But just sitting here, watching Yunice be happy with another man, made it impossible to care about either of them. He didn’t know if it was jealousy or lingering love-but whatever it was, he hated it. So he decided that if he couldn’t stop feeling this way, then he’d make sure no one left this night unscathed.
‘re Yunice?
The auction was still ongoing…
Oscar was dead drunk. Owen and Elsie brought him home. Lily came out to meet them and exchanged a look with the two. Upstairs, Elsie’s room had already been restored to look like Yunice’s. As long as they didn’t say anything, no one would know Yunice had once lived in the maid’s quarters. Yunice was already gone. They hoped her affairs wouldn’t continue to stir up trouble in the family. As for Oscar… they’d just keep it from him. As for the mess Yunice made when she was still alive, no one would ever bring it up again.
Oscar slept until the sun was high in the sky before waking up, his head pounding from the hangover. When he opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling, he realized this was the home he hadn’t seen in years. The smell of herbal tea reached his nose. Oscar sat up and looked at the bowl of tea by the bed. It was still warm.
“Yunice?” Only Yunice would make tea for the family.
The door opened, and Elsie walked in. “Oscar?”
Oscar frowned. He had always struggled to hide his dislike for this “sister” who had been brought in from the outside. After all, her blood was filthy. If it weren’t for their mother threatening death, he would never have allowed this girl to enter the family. He always treated her with an attitude of cold indifference.
Elsie flinched slightly, but she spoke with a mix of fear and determination, “Oscar, Owen’s gone to the hospital. Mom went to see Mr. Carl to arrange the funeral for Sis. I’m the only one at home.”
As she spoke, she came over and picked up the bowl. “The tea’s gotten cold. I’ll warm it up again…”
“You made this tea?” Oscar asked.
Elsie nodded timidly and softly said, “Big Sis used to make tea for you and the others. From now on, I’ll do it for her.”
“You’re you. She’s her. You think you can replace her?” Oscar’s face was cold as he stood up. When he grabbed his jacket, he suddenly remembered something and said coldly, “Yunice might be gone, but you still have to give her name back. She only used that fake name to avoid the stigma of mental illness. Now that she’s gone, we’ll add her real name to the Saunders family genealogy.”
The implication was clear: even if Elsie had taken Yunice’s name, she was still not a true member of the Saunders family. Elsie’s eyes turned red. She bit her lip, on the verge of tears.
Oscar ignored her. As soon as he left the room, he went straight to Yunice’s room. The moment he walked in, the overwhelming scent made him frown deeply. He immediately turned around and shouted, “Elsie, come here!”
Elsie hurried over. Oscar stood at the doorway, pointing into the room. “You’ve stayed in here, haven’t you?”
Elsie froze, panicking under Oscar’s stare. The room had been completely restored to match Yunice’s preferences. How could Oscar tell?
Oscar said, “Don’t try to play dumb. The scent in this room is the same as the one on you. Yunice never used perfume. Her room always smelled like herbs and medicine.” But now the scent had soaked into the walls. It made him nauseous just standing there. Who knew how long Elsie had lived in it?
Elsie immediately tried to defend herself: “I did stay for a while, but only because Yunice wasn’t home at the time. The room was empty, so Owen and Mom let me recover here… but I swear, as soon as Yunice came back, I gave it back to her…” Elsie added weakly, “Yunice liked dressing up too. She had a lot of pretty dresses, and she wore perfume on dates. Maybe… maybe you just haven’t seen her in a long time…”
“Hmph,” Oscar sneered. “You lie just like that father of yours who tried to call human trafficking rescue work.”
Elsie’s eyes snapped wide, tears brimming like she’d been humiliated beyond measure.
Oscar said, “I’m scent-sensitive. Yunice would never touch aromatherapy or perfume. And if you needed to ‘recover,’ my room was empty for even longer. Why didn’t you stay in my room? Why did it have to be Yunice’s? Her name, her room – you want it all, don’t you? Do you really think you’re the real daughter of the Saunders family now? Competing with her for everything?”
Elsie looked up at him. “I didn’t…”
Oscar continued. “You say you’re allergic to pollen, so you had every rose tree in the garden cut down. Not a single flower left in the house. And now you’re claiming you were sick and had to recover in Yunice’s room?”
Every word from Oscar hit like a blade. Elsie had no argument left.
Oscar pointed downstairs. “Go kneel by the front door. When Owen gets home, we’ll talk this through together.”
“You thought you could fool me with Yunice’s name? Looks like I’ve been away too long – you’ve all forgotten who your brother is!”
Smack! He slammed his hand on the banister with a loud crack.
Elsie had no choice. Crying with grievance, she went downstairs, walked to the front door, and knelt on the stone steps outside the threshold. Her sobs were soft-she didn’t dare cry aloud.
Only then did Oscar force himself to hold his breath and re-enter Yunice’s room, where he immediately flung all the windows wide open. Once the stench of perfume had finally begun to fade, Oscar’s nose prickled with a sharp sting. He looked around at the familiar setup of the room. A jewelry chest sat by the vanity. It was made of walnut wood-Owen’s first project when he was learning carpentry. Yunice had been overjoyed when she received it. She said she’d keep all her most precious things inside.
Oscar walked over and opened the first drawer. Inside was a fountain pen. When Yunice was little, he’d tutored her. She’d been smart-she understood everything right away. He’d given her that pen as encouragement, hoping she’d grow up and succeed, carrying the tool he’d given her.
But by the time Yunice started seventh grade, Oscar had transferred to a research institute. The real break in contact came when she was a sophomore in high school. Back then, he was in a crucial stage of his research, and for security reasons, the institute had cut off all communication with the outside world. He only learned later that Yunice had suffered from a severe mental breakdown and had to be hospitalized. Owen, in order to protect her future, had arranged for Elsie to temporarily assume Yunice’s identity during that time.
Oscar had believed Owen. That was why he’d signed off on the legal documents. But after what he’d witnessed yesterday-the unspoken coordination between Owen and Elsie-he suddenly realized something. Elsie had long since become a part of the Saunders household. She already acted like she was the true Miss of the family. And Owen treated her exactly like a real sister. If he treated Elsie like a sister, then what about Yunice? Had she ever been given the same?
In big families, fairness was a myth. Parents failed at it. Siblings even more so. There was no such thing as equal love.
Just then, Owen came back. From downstairs, he called out anxiously, “Oscar! Oscar!” Oscar stepped out of Yunice’s room, just in time to see Owen stomping upstairs. Seeing Oscar’s icy expression, Owen froze in place.
Oscar said, “Weren’t you at the hospital? Done already?” Owen dodged the question. “Oscar, why’s Elsie kneeling outside? I told her to get up, but she won’t.”