Filed to story: The Daughter in the Shadows (Yunice) Book by Una Norris
She turned to Morgan again. “You didn’t leave anything behind on her, did you? If the girl made a scene later, that would be trouble.”
Morgan shook his head. He’d cleaned up well enough.
Still not reassured, Maine said, “Put her in the tub. I’ll take care of the rest.”
Morgan moved lazily as he worked. Maine couldn’t stand his attitude and said in a low, firm voice behind him, “Your sister’s going to wake up soon. Her hands are already moving. Can you take things seriously for once?”
Morgan’s eyes widened as he stared at her in disbelief.
Maine gave a heavy nod. “It’s true.”
Morgan’s hands trembled slightly. He didn’t say a word. He just grabbed Elsie under her arms and dragged her to the bathroom.
Moments later, the sound of running water echoed from within.
Leaning against the bathroom wall, Morgan watched as the water slowly covered Elsie’s body.
He fumbled for his phone, wondering who he could call to take the fall for this.
Killing someone wasn’t new for him. His father and grandmother always cleaned up after him. But Wyatt was harder to handle. If he could avoid taking responsibility, all the better.
His first thought was to send the message to Owen and let him swallow the loss. But on second thought, he sent it to Paul instead.
Once the message was sent, he stuffed his hands into his pockets, satisfied, and strolled out of the bathroom.
Maine was stuffing the bloodied bedsheets into a bag, getting ready to take them away. Morgan stood in front of her, casting a large shadow over her.
“She’s really going to wake up?” he asked quietly. “Didn’t the doctors say she’d never come out of it?”
Maine froze, her hands still. She looked up, heavy with concern, and said seriously, “That’s not an excuse to let yourself go like this.”
Morgan rolled his eyes, clearly not interested in a lecture.
“I’m not lying,” Maine insisted. “She’s been moving a lot the past few days. When I talk to her, she even cries. The doctor said to keep simulating her-keep talking to her-and there’s a high chance she’ll wake.”
Morgan’s eyes lit up, saying, “She loves hearing Wyatt talk. If he stays with her a few more days, she’ll definitely wake up.”
But before he could finish, both he and Maine went silent.
Their faces dropped in unison.
They had both thought of Yunice.
Wyatt had Yunice now. He didn’t care about Nora anymore. If anything, he was probably hoping Nora would never wake up.
Morgan grew even more certain of Wyatt’s true intentions when Maine didn’t refute it.
Maine had always been close to his sister. Among everyone, she was the only one who kept standing up for her. If there was even the slightest chance his sister would wake up, Maine would have told Wyatt first.
But judging by the look on her face, it was obvious she’d already tried – and hit a wall.
Once she was done packing, Maine slung the bag over her shoulder and said to Morgan, “Let’s go.”
Morgan followed her out. Maine headed straight for the hallway surveillance system and wiped the footage, erasing any trace of what Morgan had done.
Meanwhile, Paul had received an anonymous message: Elsie had been assaulted and was now dumped in a hotel, waiting to be rescued.
He sat in front of the mirror, eyes fixed darkly on the deep scar carved into his face.
He hadn’t stepped outside in a long time.
He’d already seen through that bitch Elsie and had no patience left to play games with her. But now…
Paul’s expression twisted as his fingers brushed the scar on his cheek.
He had to save himself somehow…
And right now, Elsie had just handed herself to him on a silver platter.
At Pavillion Hall, Yunice sat at a table, stacking credit cards into a tower.
A row of housemaids stood behind her, each with a different expression as they watched her idly building a card house out of boredom.
Eight layers tall now, forming an octagonal tower, and she still had a whole pile of unused cards left.
The housemaids, marveling silently at the kind of life only the rich could afford, finally stepped forward to remind her, “Mrs. Cooper, sir called earlier. He said he’s taking you to a charity gala tonight. Your dress and stylist have been arranged. When would you like to try them on?”
Yunice tilted her head. “A charity gala?”
“Yes,” the maid replied. “It starts at nine tonight. There’s still time.”
Yunice blinked and twirled a card between her fingers. Charity galas were a rich man’s play.
On the surface, it was all about good causes and public welfare, but behind the scenes, it was nothing more than a game of covert power plays.
Especially for the women – it was the easiest way to form connections in that circle.
Young women used these events to show their faces, scout wealthy families, and lock in potential prospects.
Married women used them to integrate into elite social circles, helping their husbands gain influence in more subtle ways.
In that world, men only brought their legal wives. Bringing mistresses or illegitimate children would get them socially exiled.
Wyatt suddenly taking her to an event like this? It smelled a lot like he was finally going to present her to high society as the legitimate Mrs. Cooper.
But why now?
They’d been married for over a year. He had never once taken her to a public event – not even people close to him knew she existed.
The public only knew that he’d married a woman unfit for the spotlight – so unworthy he couldn’t be bothered to take her anywhere.
Yunice had never complained about it. In fact, she liked it that way.
She wasn’t ready to be dragged into the messy world of business and social alliances.
But now Wyatt suddenly wanted to pull her in?
“Mrs. Cooper?” the maid called anxiously, checking the time. It was still early, but if Yunice didn’t cooperate, they’d have to find a way to make her.
Yunice gently placed the card in her hand down. Her finger brushed the base, and the eight-layer octagonal tower collapsed into a scattered pile.
She stood up and said, “Let the stylist in.”
Then she headed for the walk-in closet, two maids trailing behind her, ready to take orders.
As Yunice reached the closet, her gaze drifted toward a door on the fifth floor – a room that had never once been opened.
Drawn by something she couldn’t explain, Yunice walked toward it and tried to open it.
A maid behind her suddenly warned nervously, “Mrs. Cooper… Sir gave strict instructions. No one’s allowed near that room.”
Yunice glanced sideways. “Even me?”