Filed to story: The Daughter in the Shadows (Yunice) Book by Una Norris
Yunice noticed it right away-Victor wasn’t just upset with Wyatt. He probably thought she was messed up too. Victor had a lot of good qualities. That was the problem. He’d been too sheltered his whole life, too naive. But that kind of thing? A few hard knocks from life had a way of fixing it fast. Yunice wasn’t about to talk him out of it. Some lessons don’t come from words. Life teaches them the hard way. One hit, and he’ll figure it out.
Wyatt sat at the head table. Yunice was too far away to hear what he was saying, but he had a solid build and was easy on the eyes.
Just then, Jordan strolled over with a bottle of liquor in hand. He walked right past Yunice and headed to the table behind her. Coincidentally, that table was filled with people Yunice used to know. Jordan set the bottle down with a solid thud and announced, “This one’s from Mr. Cooper. He wants you all to drink up-don’t waste a drop.”
The group, caught off guard, stood up quickly in surprise. “Thank you, Mr. Jordan! Please thank Mr. Cooper for us!”
Jordan let out a short laugh and added, “Mr. Cooper says he’s got a lot of respect for this group. So if the rest of you don’t treat them right tonight, you’re basically disrespecting him.”
People exchanged uneasy glances. That didn’t sound like a compliment… Still, someone sharp enough to read between the lines caught on right away-this wasn’t a compliment. It was a setup. And just like that, the flattery started pouring in. People were lining up to toast that table, pushing drink after drink on them.
Those guys were totally clueless. They thought they were riding high, like they’d finally made it. Trying to impress Wyatt, they just kept downing drinks one after another. Yunice turned and watched them-faces red, slurring their words, gripping the table while hiccuping through drunken burps. A cold smirk tugged at her lips. She wasn’t sure if Wyatt had done it on purpose or not, but seeing those same people who used to push her around now suffering like that? It felt damn good.
After chatting for a bit, Wyatt left the event early. Moments later, Yunice received a message from him-a location pin. He wanted her to meet him there. As she stood up to leave, she glanced back at that table of men. Their faces had turned pale. A few of them had even thrown up blood. But Yunice didn’t think Wyatt was being cruel-not one bit. After all… what goes around comes around.
To everyone else, she was just another nobody in the company. Who would ever pay her any mind? Even those guys who drank themselves sick-some even threw up blood-would never have guessed, no matter how hard they racked their brains, that their misfortune had come from the most unassuming person in the room-Yunice.
She opened the car door and leaned in, spotting Wyatt seated in the shadowy back seat. The moment she climbed in, the driver pulled away. Watching the streets roll by, Yunice asked, “Are we heading back to Pavilion Hall?”
Wyatt pressed his fingers to his temple and gave a low, “Yeah.” The Northvale Project was just getting off the ground, and there was chaos at every turn. With the Powell Corporation constantly trying to throw a wrench in things, Wyatt had been running himself ragged for days.
He felt drained. Yunice glanced at him and offered, “Why don’t you lie down on my lap? I’ll give you a massage.”
Wyatt’s fingers paused. He opened his eyes. Then he actually did it. His head was heavy-and Yunice was pretty slim. The weight sank straight into her, and she flinched. She adjusted him so he’d be more comfortable, and Wyatt had to awkwardly tuck his legs into the corner.
As her hands gently massaged the top of his head, Yunice said, “Thanks for getting everyone together.” No need to explain. When you’re dealing with someone sharp, just a hint is enough. Wyatt knew exactly who she meant. And Yunice knew-he wouldn’t have brought that group together unless he’d taken the time to look into her situation.
Sure enough, Wyatt didn’t answer. He kept his eyes closed, silent. But a moment later, he reached up and wrapped her hand in his. His hand slid into hers, their fingers lacing together. Yunice tensed for a second, caught off guard, as Wyatt gently brought her hand down and placed it against his chest. Then he stopped moving.
She could feel his heartbeat-steady, strong-along with the warmth of his skin and the slight texture beneath it. The rhythm pulsed steadily against her palm. This feels… too intimate. Wyatt was definitely still awake.
Yunice didn’t pull her hand away. Instead, she changed the subject. “Victor’s parents died taking the fall for some rich guy. He spent two years in an orphanage before Mr. Carl adopted him. I think he’s still carrying that trauma… that’s probably why he misunderstands you.”
Wyatt opened his eyes and looked at her. She knew Wyatt. He never let grudges slide. If someone crossed him, be they settled the score. That’s what worried her. She could already tell he and Victor didn’t click. When Victor was little, he followed his mom around, trying everything they could to clear his dad’s name. But it hadn’t made a difference. So in his mind, someone like Wyatt-ruthless and calculating-was no different from the man who ruined his family.
Wyatt stared at Yunice, his expression unreadable. Seeing the hint of pleading in her face, he gave an annoyed grunt of acknowledgment. Wyatt let him off the hook for one reason-Yunice. And maybe a little for Will’s sake too. Victor should consider himself lucky to have that connection.
Wyatt stayed resting on Yunice’s lap for over twenty minutes. But instead of heading to Pavilion Hall, the car turned and drove toward the hospital. Morgan finally woke up after two days in a coma. His injuries were serious this time-fractured ribs kept him stuck in bed, and a bone bruise in his leg had it suspended in a sling. Bone injuries take time. For the next three months, forget sports cars-he’d be lucky if he could walk again.
Mary had worn herself thin taking care of him. She barely acknowledged Wyatt anymore, and when it came to Yunice, her attitude was even worse. Wyatt didn’t bother with her. And Yunice? She acted like she wasn’t even there. Furious, Mary wheeled herself out of the room.
Yunice stood quietly behind Wyatt, throwing a glance at Morgan. His head was wrapped in so much gauze, he looked like a mummy. From the moment Wyatt walked in, Morgan kept nervously glancing over his shoulder. The moment his eyes met Yunice’s, Morgan froze. He flinched, went rigid, and stared up at the ceiling-wide-eyed and pale. Wyatt narrowed his eyes.
Yunice asked, “He doesn’t seem all there. You think the head injury messed him up?” “Bluh-bluh-nuh-nuh! No!”
Yunice turned to Wyatt. “Yeah… something’s definitely not right. He can’t even speak properly.” The second Morgan locked eyes with her, he completely lost it. “Grandma! Grandma, save me!” He was falling apart-hysterical and panicked-but his voice came out rough and strained, like his throat was ready to give out.
Yunice raised her eyes and, just out of Wyatt’s line of sight, flashed Morgan a slow, wicked smile. Begging for Grandma won’t help you now. Morgan’s eyes went wide. Trussed up like a roast, he somehow managed to inch his way to the edge of the bed, nearly tipping over in the process.
Yunice calmly pulled up a stool and placed her acupuncture kit on the table. She unzipped it and unfolded a neat row of silver needles, all in different lengths and widths, each one gleaming under the light. She smiled coolly. “Don’t worry, Mr. Morgan. I’m trained in the Thirteen Phantom Needles. Once I begin, I’ll take care of every issue in your body and make sure you’re healthier than you’ve ever been.”
Morgan let out a strangled, muffled curse, but it was impossible to tell what he was trying to say. Yunice plucked a needle from the set. “You don’t want to end up brain-dead, do you?” Wyatt pulled out his phone. “I need to take a call.” Morgan let out a desperate whimper, but Wyatt didn’t stop walking. The door closed behind him, leaving just Yunice and Morgan in the room.
Yunice leaned in and gently slid a needle into Morgan’s scalp, smiling sweetly as she did it. Morgan went stiff as a board-eyes wide, throat rattling with a dry, panicked sound. He didn’t dare move. Holding another needle just above his head, Yunice tilted it playfully between her fingers, her voice light and teasing. “Looks like Wyatt’s not here to save you anymore.”
Morgan was shaking with fear, frozen like someone had hit a pause button on his body. He couldn’t move an inch. His face said it all-pure terror directed straight at Yunice. She acted like the sweet, harmless type, but she was far from it.
By the time Wyatt came back into the room, Morgan had already fallen asleep. Yunice pulled out the needles one by one, then said with a smirk, “Man, I wish I could sleep like that. Young people-knock out the second their head hits the pillow.”
Wyatt asked, “How is he?”
Yunice answered casually, “Just some minor injuries. He’s young and in good shape. As long as he takes it easy for the next few months, he’ll be fine-no lasting damage.”
Whether Wyatt believed her or not, he didn’t question it further. Deep down, Yunice could tell-Wyatt gave her a kind of slack he didn’t offer to others. She didn’t believe for a second that he didn’t suspect something. But as long as she didn’t leave Morgan seriously injured-or worse-Wyatt would look the other way.
When they left the hospital, Mary still hadn’t said a word to Yunice. Yunice returned the favor, treating Mary like she didn’t even exist. As long as Wyatt was on her side, life stayed easy. Nothing else mattered.
Back at Pavilion Hall, Yunice headed straight to the kitchen. There were housekeepers around, but she liked doing things herself. Wyatt followed her in. When he saw her grab tomatoes, he went to the fridge, pulled out some cilantro, and started plucking the leaves at a relaxed pace. He flipped his phone face-down on the counter, clearly still on a call. His voice was tense.
“Don’t let that paper show up in front of me again.” Yunice glanced over while slicing the tomatoes. Then Wyatt lowered his voice and asked whoever was on the other end, “Oh, you think this is funny?”
A voice crackled faintly through the speaker. “Wyatt, the competition’s having a field day with this.”
Yunice’s ears perked up. She kept chopping but inched a little closer to where Wyatt was standing. What’s going on? What’s so funny? Wyatt shot her another look. Yunice acted like she hadn’t noticed, casually scooped the tomatoes into a bowl, then switched cutting boards and started on the beef.
Then Wyatt muttered into the phone, “Fine. Get me a language tutor.”
Yunice was straining to catch every word, totally lost in the drama and itching to ask-but Wyatt ended the call before she had the chance. He looked over at her. “Did you catch any of that?”
Yunice blinked, totally innocent. “Catch what?”
Wyatt said, “Nothing.” Then he picked up the other half of the beef she’d left and began slicing it into thin strips.
The two of them stayed in the kitchen, quietly working side-by-side-each focused on their own task, not saying another word. Yunice made cilantro-lime beef stir-fry. Wyatt went with beef taco bowls.
While reaching for ingredients, their hands occasionally brushed. When Wyatt reached for the salt, Yunice waited for him to finish before adding her own.
At the dining table, the house staff stood quietly behind them, ready to serve-but after a few minutes of waiting for cues, they realized there was nothing to do. Wyatt went back for more stir-fry. Yunice helped herself to another scoop of the taco bowl.
Neither of them was picky. No arguments, no awkward tension-just two people enjoying good food. For some reason, Yunice-usually so tense-felt surprisingly at ease. Weird, she thought. I actually feel more comfortable eating with Wyatt than I ever did at the Saunders family dinner table.
Just as they were setting down their utensils, Wyatt’s phone rang again. He lifted it and answered-this time on speaker.
“Wyatt, I found a few top-tier foreign language tutors, but…” Jordan’s voice trailed off awkwardly.
Wyatt’s tone darkened. “But what?”
Jordan sighed and gave up trying to sugarcoat it. “They all said your basics are too weak. They’re afraid tutoring you will ruin their reputation. No one wants to take the job.”
The mood in the room shifted immediately. The air felt heavier. Yunice glanced up, hesitating. “Wait, what kind of tutor are we talking about?”
Wyatt looked over, clearly debating whether or not to tell her. But before he could respond, Jordan recognized Yunice’s voice through the speaker. “Mrs. Cooper… You’re there too?”
Jordan hesitated. “You… haven’t seen the news, have you?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Wyatt got roasted at the press conference. His delivery was… not great, and, well-the media tore him apart. Someone even turned it into a meme video. It’s all over the internet.”
Yunice blinked. A meme video? She considered herself a certified internet junkie-how had she not seen this? Then again, she rarely ever came across negative news about Cooper Group. Wyatt’s PR team and legal department were legendary. If he wanted something buried, it disappeared fast.
Yunice stayed quiet, processing. On the line, Jordan sighed again. “Mrs. Cooper, I’m out of options here. Do you have any ideas?”
Wyatt said, “She dropped out of high school. What kind of ideas could she possibly have? I probably know more vocabulary than she does.”
Jordan went quiet.
Yunice glanced at Wyatt, hesitated for a few seconds, then blurted out, unwilling to back down, “I speak seven languages.”
Jordan laughed. “Mrs. Cooper, come on. Don’t try to bluff us-we know your background. You spent three years in a psych ward, not a language institute. There’s no way you know seven languages.”
Yunice went silent. To prove she wasn’t lying, Yunice replied to Jordan in six different languages.
Wyatt frowned and asked through the phone, “What’s she rambling about?”
Jordan was stunned for a second before replying, “She said I shouldn’t look down on her. And that if she had a college degree, she would’ve passed the certification exam for translators by now.”