Filed to story: The Daughter in the Shadows (Yunice) Book by Una Norris
Paul’s own house was burning down-how could he have time to fight with Yunice now?
Maybe he’d finally remembered that it really had been a long time since Elsie last reached out. Paul spun around and left the Powell family estate.
Back in the living room, the guests were still the same bunch of relatives. The old man and Wyatt hadn’t returned.
A few of them were lounging in chairs, joking around openly in front of Yunice. Whatever sad, mourning faces they’d shown earlier-they didn’t even bother pretending anymore.
In the study, after the old man came back, Wyatt casually shut the window.
The old man placed a document on the desk and said, “Sign this agreement to be officially recognized as part of the family, and I’ll tell you where your mother is buried. That way, you’ll have a place to pay your respects in the future.”
Wyatt sat carelessly in the armchair. He flipped through the agreement-it outlined his mother’s official remarried status and acknowledged Wyatt as the Powell family’s second heir.
Wyatt let go of the document and gave the old man a mocking look. “I’ll recognize the family, but I’ve got one condition.” The old man asked, “What condition?”
His tone was easygoing, like no condition could really be that big of a deal.
Wyatt pointed straight at Jensen and said arrogantly, “Switch her mother’s place with mine. Make my mom the official wife and hers the mistress. How about it?”
Jensen was so furious his veins nearly burst. He slammed his hand down on the table and stood up. “Wyatt, you’re full of shit. Do you even know what your mother’s status was? Just a housemaid, and you think she’s qualified to switch places with my mom? Who’s the legitimate heir and who’s the bastard? You think changing titles makes people forget the truth?”
“We let you be born, let you grow up, and you should be grateful to us! My mom was practically killed by you people. What gives you the right to step on her memory?”
Wyatt tilted his head, disdainful. “Your mom couldn’t even keep your dad’s belt buckled. She brought it on herself.”
Jensen froze, and when he realized what Wyatt had just said, he was so angry he nearly vomited blood.
Wyatt’s mother had originally been just a maid in the Powell family-Jackson’s old indulgence and a disgrace forced into existence.
Once Wyatt was born, both mother and son were completely rejected.
Jensen’s mother never once blamed Jackson for any of it. Instead, she poured her bitterness into bullying and tormenting Wyatt’s mother at every turn. Even when Wyatt’s mother tried to leave with her son, she was stopped. The Powell family couldn’t have their shameful secret out in public.
If Wyatt hadn’t clawed his way up and become indispensable to the Powell family, Jackson would’ve never suddenly had the bright idea to recognize him as part of the bloodline.
Jackson listened to Wyatt’s demand and said nothing at first.
After a moment, he said, “We can put your mother’s name into the family registry. We can also move her grave to lie beside mine.”
Jensen was stunned. “Dad, if you move her grave there, then where does my mother get buried?”
The old man glared at him with clear contempt, like he didn’t even understand why Jensen was still talking.
Jensen didn’t dare argue. He glared at Wyatt instead, eyes filled with hatred-he looked ready to kill him.
Wyatt glanced from the old man to Jensen, mocking. “See how cheap your mom’s position is? Schemed her whole life, and in the end, one word from him erased everything.”
Jensen’s heart filled with bitterness. He turned to look at the old man with rising resentment.
How could he not hate this? How could he possibly accept it?
If the old man could cast his mother aside today, it could be him tomorrow-or Paul.
At the end of the day, all the old man ever cared about was profit.
Jensen was seething with resentment. The old man didn’t respond to Wyatt but stared coldly and asked, “Are you signing or not?”
Wyatt casually swept the agreement off to the side. “Not signing.”
The old man’s voice deepened. “What else are you dissatisfied with?”
“Everything. I’m dissatisfied with everything,” Wyatt said, arrogant as ever. “You think you’re some priceless gem? Getting buried next to you would be an insult to my mother. And you’re trying to pass it off like it’s some kind of reward?
That trash grave of yours, that pathetic family head position-only someone useless like Jensen would care about that crap.”
Jensen’s eyes turned bloodshot. He was on the verge of tears from the insult.
He was already over forty, had carried the title of heir for decades, but had spent all those years acting as the crown prince under the old man’s iron rule. On the surface, he had prestige. In reality, he’d been living in humiliation.
The old man’s face darkened further. He had already stirred up Jensen’s discontent, which meant he had to stabilize Wyatt and bring him fully into the Powell family.
“You don’t care about being buried together. You don’t care about being the Powell family’s second son. So you don’t even care about your mother’s ashes? Don’t you want to know where she’s buried? Don’t you want a place to pay your respects?”
As long as he joined the Powell family on paper, he’d have access to his mother’s grave.
Wyatt let out a laugh, as if he’d just heard the world’s dumbest joke. “Her grave? You, someone this cold and ruthless, this selfish and heartless, who treated my mother like garbage when she was alive-what, now you expect me to believe you gave her a decent burial after death? Rolled her up in a straw mat and tossed her in a ditch, more like.”
“Or do you think if you hand me some random handful of ashes, I’ll just assume they’re hers? She’s already dead. Gone. And you think dangling her remains in front of me is going to move me? What a joke.”
The old man gripped the armrest tightly. “You ungrateful, unfilial bastard!”
Wyatt said, “Spare me the crap about morals and virtue. The only reason you want me back in the Powell family is so when I eventually die, you’ll have the legal right to take everything I own.”
“Who do you think you’re fooling?”
He’d watched the Powell family pull scams his whole life. He’d suffered enough to know exactly how this game was played.
Wyatt stood and walked out without a shred of hesitation.
The door creaked shut behind him, leaving only the old man and Jensen in the study, staring each other down.
Neither said a word, but after what Wyatt had done, the bond between father and son had already fractured beyond repair.
Jackson clearly sensed Jensen’s shift in attitude. He tried to placate him. “Everything in the Powell family will be yours and Paul’s in the end. How many years do you think I have left? Wyatt’s just trying to mess with you.”
Jensen lowered his head. “Yes, Father.”
But beneath that lowered head, his eyes had clearly turned cold.
Wyatt entered the main hall and pulled Yunice away without a word.
All the relatives and guests in the room stood up, trying to say something to Wyatt, but he ignored them with a cold face.
After they left the Powell family estate, Wyatt stayed silent. Yunice could tell he was in a bad mood.
Who would be in a good mood on their mother’s death anniversary?
When Wyatt’s mother passed away, he was still a child-completely powerless against the Powell family.
Yunice remembered hearing Paul brag about it when they were kids, saying that when Wyatt’s mother died, the servants held Wyatt back so he couldn’t get close. She was wrapped in a straw mat and taken out of the estate; no one even knew where she ended up.
Over a decade had passed. Wyatt probably didn’t even have a place to mourn her.
What kind of son can’t even bury his own mother? How could he not feel guilty and suffocated?
A person needs something to hold onto in life. His mother was the most important person to him, and yet she hadn’t left him anything-not even a trace of memory.
Yunice said softly, “We can keep looking. Back then, someone must have handled it. If we threaten or bribe the right person, someone will eventually talk.”
Wyatt didn’t turn his head. His voice was both flat and urgent. “I asked. Not a single one of those old bastards told the truth. Who even knows if anything they said is real?”
Yunice gripped Wyatt’s sleeve tightly, following along while watching his face.