Filed to story: The Daughter in the Shadows (Yunice) Book by Una Norris
Already in a bad mood, he grew even more irritated. “Sneaking around with all this-stealing from the house, are you?”
The maid was visibly shaken and quickly waved her hands, panicking. “Sir, I swear it has nothing to do with me! Mr. Powell gave them to me! He told me to-“
She stopped short, then burst into frightened tears. “He told me not to say anything! Mr. Paul, please let me go just this once, I swear I didn’t steal it…”
Paul grabbed her hair and snarled, “Are you gonna talk or not? If you don’t, I’ll have someone string you up and beat the truth out of you!”
“No! I’ll talk!” The maid clutched her own hair, sobbing. “It was Mr. Powell. He told me to send these to the guesthouse. He said the woman there is pregnant and needs to be taken care of so she can give him a fat, healthy son…”
Paul’s eyes bulged. “Didn’t they say the old man was sterile? What pregnancy?!”
The maid cried, “Mr. Powell arranged for an overseas expert. They did IVF. He men picked o embryos, just in case-he said at least one’s bound to take.”
Paul’s teeth ground together audibly.
So his damn father hadn’t given up on having another child after all.
Paul let go and stormed off toward Jensen’s study.
The maid quickly wiped her tears and gathered the supplements, scurrying off to a corner.
“Taylor…”
Taylor had been watching the whole thing. She held a card between her fingers and handed it to the maid-a clear message that she was never to show her face at the Powell estate again.
That had been Yunice’s idea.
She’d said, It’s bad to be too desperate.
Paul needed to feel threatened. Only then would he strike back.
If Jensen really had another child, Paul would be cast out of the Powell family for good.
Of course Paul wouldn’t allow that to happen. And Taylor had made sure the maid let it slip that Jensen had more than one child, hidden in different places. That way, even if one pregnancy failed, it wouldn’t stop the threat.
If Paul wanted to win, his only choice would be to take a gamble-and wrest control of the Powell family for himself.
Paul barged into Jensen’s study, rifling through drawers, prying open the safe, and pulling out the Powell family’s asset agreement.
He stared at the document with cold fury and muttered through clenched teeth, “Dad. Grandpa. You betrayed me first-don’t blame me for fighting back. If you won’t let me inherit the family business, I’ll build my own empire. One that belongs to me.”
Taking the agreement, Paul called the project lead of the supposedly high-return investment he’d been eyeing.
“Hello? I’m ready to invest. One hundred billion.”
Yunice finally received the call she’d been waiting for.
She smiled and spoke through a voice modulator, “One hundred billion won’t cut it.”
Paul snapped, “Half a year ago, you said the threshold was one hundred billion. What, your company bankrupt and now you can’t even handle my deal?”
“Quite the opposite,” Yunice said with a smirk. “Mr. Paul, as you said, one hundred billion was the standard six months ago. Now, our company only accepts investments of one trillion and up.”
Paul growled, “Are you playing me?”
Yunice chuckled. “Mr. Paul, my time is worth billions per second. Are you sure you can afford to waste it?”
His face darkened at her arrogance. “Don’t get cocky.”
Turning down business like this-who did she think she was?
But before he could say more, the line went dead.
Paul froze. He redialed, only to be met with a busy tone.
Again and again, same result.
Then it hit him-this only happened when you were blocked.
Paul stared at his phone in disbelief.
Could they really not care about working with someone like me?
Panic began to creep up on Paul. That number was the only contact he had that could yield fast, liquid capital.
Every other investment or new venture would take too long to turn a profit.
By the time any startup of his succeeded, the old man’s second child would probably already be born.
Paul didn’t have that kind of time. He messaged the number again – this time far more politely, humbly asking for another chance to invest.
But still, no reply.
He didn’t know if they were ignoring him on purpose or if his message was buried in spam and simply never read.
Whatever the reason, he couldn’t get through, and the missed opportunity gnawed at him with bitter regret.
He became obsessed with breaking through. One trillion…
Paul pulled up his account records. Since the Powell family had cut him off, his bank cards and dividends were frozen. All he had left was a few million in pocket money.
If he wanted to reach one trillion, he had no choice but to tap into the Powell family’s resources.
His eyes turned ruthless. “If the Powell family is just going to hand everything over to some bastard child in the end, then I might as well be the one to use it. I’ll make them see – Powell Corporation belongs to me and me alone.”
Yunice casually glanced at her phone and read the message Paul had sent her.
She knew it wouldn’t be long before he took the bait.
She wasn’t in any hurry.
The more thoroughly she vanished, the more desperate Paul would get – and the less he’d think.
“Bad news! Someone’s banging on the gate! Demanding to see Mr. Wyatt!”
Yunice raised a brow, mildly intrigued.
Who would be that bold?
The butler hesitated. “It’s someone from the Johnson family… Mr. Morgan and Madam Mary…”
He added, “Normally it wouldn’t be a big deal, but Madam Mary is elderly and not in great health. Both of them are insisting on staying out in this freezing weather. She looks like she’s about to collapse. If she faints at our door and Mr. Wyatt comes back…”
They all knew how Wyatt indulged the Johnson family. The staff had done their research.
If Madam Mary got hurt because they mishandled things, Wyatt might take it out on them.
Yunice gave a cold smile. “She knows she’s not well and still insists on freezing outside? That’s nothing but emotional blackmail.”
She said, “How could we let Madam Mary stay out in the cold? Invite them in. Now!”
The butler bowed respectfully. “Madam Mary, Mr. Morgan, Ms. Yunice invites you to come inside and rest.”