Filed to story: The Daughter in the Shadows (Yunice) Book by Una Norris
“Headache?” He set down what he’d brought and sat beside her.
Placing a hand over hers, he felt something off. Then he leaned in and gently pressed his forehead to hers.
As he suspected-warm.
Leaning back against the pillows, Yunice murmured, her voice soft and slow, “I think I’ve got a fever. No wonder everything hurts.”
Wyatt frowned. He’d been careful-how had she still gotten sick?
Worried, he reached for his phone to call Dr. Du Zhongying, but Yunice stopped him. “Don’t trouble him. I’ll do some moxibustion later. It’ll pass.”
Still, to be safe, she asked Wyatt to get her an antigen rapid test. Thankfully, it showed no sign of infection – just a regular cold.
Wyatt had gone out earlier to get breakfast. Knowing she hadn’t eaten the night before, he brought back a bowl of congee and fed her by hand. “No point in moving around. Stay here and rest. I’ll come get you after work.”
Yunice nodded softly, too weak to argue.
Wyatt worked just outside the lounge. When needed, he handled business with staff in the outer office. As soon as they left, he’d come back in with tea or water for her.
Yunice slept fitfully through the day. Her fever eased, but she was still too drained to do much.
Her sudden illness also delayed any plans Wyatt had for Paul.
But the Powell family? They were already in full-blown chaos.
“That ungrateful bastard! He really tried to beat Boyu to death over some woman?!”
Jackson had already smashed half the study.
Paul had passed out the moment he got home. After an exam, they discovered three broken ribs, a fractured nose, and a rib that had nearly punctured an organ.
He’d been in a coma for three days and had only just regained consciousness.
Jackson called Wyatt and demanded he drag Yunice home at once.
Wyatt didn’t give a damn. He answered calls when he felt like it-otherwise, he ignored them.
Fuming, Jackson tried sending Jensen, but even Jensen didn’t dare face Wyatt now.
In the end, Jackson hauled his old bones over in person, cane in hand, all the way to Wyatt’s office.
“Mr. Wyatt isn’t in,” Jordan said, blocking him at the door.
Jackson slammed his cane down with a loud crack and glared. “Kid, go ask your grandfather if he ever dared get in my way!”
Jordan’s face tightened.
The old man then barked past him, “Wyatt! What, you only know how to hide from me like a coward?!” Inside the lounge, Wyatt was calmly changing the sheets.
Last night had been too intense. The bandages Yunice had carefully wrapped around Wyatt’s hand had split open, staining the sheets with blood.
He had just changed into fresh linens and tucked her back in bed when Jackson’s furious shouting echoed from outside.
Yunice looked at him, concerned. Wyatt gave her hand a reassuring pat, then stepped out.
Jackson stood fuming just beyond the office door. In contrast, Wyatt came out lazily draped in a coat, shirt unbuttoned at the collar, tie sloppily loosened.
The old man scanned him from head to toe, voice seething. “Where’s that whore?”
Wyatt raised an eyebrow. “Who’s the whore?”
“That wh-” Jackson froze, catching himself, then glared at Wyatt’s smug expression.
Wyatt strolled out of the office like he didn’t have a care in the world. Jordan followed behind and quietly shut the door.
With his hands in his pockets, Wyatt looked down at the old man from above.
Jackson’s gaze shifted from the bandage on Wyatt’s hand to his face, cold as ice. “You brawled with your own family over some woman. Where the hell is your head?”
Wyatt scoffed. “Who said it was about a woman? I just don’t like Paul. I wanted to beat him up-is that a crime?”
Jackson looked like he might snap his cane in half. “She’s nothing but a tramp used by a thousand men, and the more you treasure her, the more miserable she’ll end up.”
Wyatt’s eyes narrowed. He laughed coldly. “Then let me return that sentiment to you-word for word.”
Jackson’s face twitched. He let out a cold grunt and turned to leave.
Only after the old man vanished down the hallway did Jordan say anxiously, “Wyatt… you think he’ll try something against the missus?”
“He definitely will,” Wyatt replied flatly. “So it’s a matter of who strikes first.”
The Saunders Family
Wellinges Pharma had narrowly avoided collapse after its isolation ward was repurposed by the government, earning them a large subsidy. As director, Owen had received considerable compensation-enough to breathe new life into the hospital.
Right now, he was in his study, speaking impatiently on the phone with Peggy.
As expected, Peggy had called him first. Ever since they’d run into each other at West Court, she’d been pestering him every few days, pushing him to visit the Saunders estate.
Owen had no interest in dealing with that bunch of immature, power-hungry fools. He’d blocked several of Peggy’s numbers already-but she kept changing them and calling again.
She even hired a private investigator to stalk him.
“What the hell do you want from me?!” Owen snapped.
Peggy giggled on the other end. “Owen, do you want a wife?”
“No!” he barked.
“Already in love with someone?”
“Yes!” Owen lied through his teeth.
She laughed again. “Then how about breaking up with her and dating me instead?”
“You shameless-!” Owen roared and hung up.
“Owen?” came a weak voice from the doorway.
He turned and saw Elsie standing there.
His expression softened a bit. “Elsie, what are you doing up?”
“I was tired of lying in bed. Needed to move around.”
She sat down across from him and asked, “Has Sis still refused to come home?”
Yunice was still staying with Wyatt. The farther she was, the harder it was to keep tabs on her-let alone make a move.
Owen grunted, then added coldly, “Forget her.”
If she no longer wanted to be part of the Saunders family, then fine. Let them go their separate ways. “Owen! Owen!” Lily’s panicked voice rang from the stairs.