Filed to story: The Daughter in the Shadows (Yunice) Book by Una Norris
“What do you expect me to do?” she shot back. “Keep living in shame while watching you play the loving husband to Taylor? Do you have any idea what people have been saying about me since your wedding? I got suspended from the hospital. Store clerks mock me like I’m some beggar. And where were you? Laughing it up with Taylor! I gave you everything I had. When everyone turned on you, I was the only one who stayed. I sold my own things to raise money for you. And what did I get in return? Paul, if you can’t give an answer, then you shouldn’t have made promises.”
Tears streamed down her face as she sobbed-quiet and full of sorrow, as if Paul had betrayed her a hundred times over.
Paul’s expression shifted. There was a flicker of hesitation in his eyes. Every promise he’d made to Elsie flashed through his mind. For the first time, he felt a pang of guilt. He made up his mind-he was going to take her with him.
Morgan, watching from the floor, sneered coldly. “Elsie, if you walk out with him today, I swear you’ll regret it.”
Elsie’s steps faltered, her gaze torn. Both men were rich, powerful, and came with their own perks. She didn’t want to let go of either of them.
Paul didn’t notice her hesitation. He pulled Elsie behind him and glared at Morgan. “I know Wyatt’s backing you, but don’t think that puts you on my level. Watch your back, or one day you won’t even know what hit you.”
Morgan had never taken well to threats. He laughed. “Everyone in Silverbrough knows you live off women. Don’t act all tough here just to go crying at your wife’s feet later. Beg her to fight your battles, huh? Hahaha…”
Paul’s pride couldn’t take mockery like that. Fuming, he raised his fist, ready to teach Morgan a lesson.
Elsie panicked and pushed against him. “Paul! Someone’s coming! Let it go, okay?”
Her attempt to calm him only made things worse. “Let them come! I’m not afraid!” he snapped.
Elsie stamped her foot. “What do you expect me to say to people after this?!”
That finally got through to Paul. He started thinking. This whole mess wasn’t a good look for anyone.
Elsie’s face went ghost-white. She clung to Paul’s arm, terrified he’d lash out again.
Paul didn’t respond. Jaw clenched, he stormed out of the hospital with a face like thunder, shoved Elsie into the car, and slammed the door behind him as he got in.
His fury terrified her. She whispered in a trembling voice, “Paul, don’t be like this…. You’re scaring me…”
His face was like stone. Suddenly, he raised his hand and grabbed her by the throat again. “You slept with him?”
Sensing how violent he was getting, Elsie quickly denied it. “No! He said that just to provoke you!”
“I’ll ask one more time. Did you sleep with him or not?” Paul growled through gritted teeth.
Elsie shook her head furiously, refusing to admit anything. She knew if she did, he really would kill her.
But Paul wasn’t letting her off. “You think I’m an idiot? I heard you! You said your hands and your mouth were sore. You’ve been getting real creative, huh?”
Elsie burst into tears. “It’s not like that…. Paul, you’ve got it all wrong. I’m just Mr. Morgan’s caregiver. My hands were sore from giving him physical therapy. My mouth was sore from blowing on hot water for him. Nothing happened between us, I swear! After being with you, how could I possibly have room in my heart for another man?”
Paul let out a cold laugh. “Then what was your hand doing inside his shirt? Giving him a massage, too?”
Elsie trembled. “Mr. Morgan said he felt tightness in his chest, that his heartbeat was irregular. I was just doing my job as a doctor, checking his pulse.”
Her eyes darted nervously. Even she didn’t believe the lie she’d just told. But if she wanted to survive, she had to try something – anything.
Paul didn’t interrupt, so she kept going, adding a pitiful touch to her voice. “To pay you back for everything you spent on me, I’ve put up with all kinds of abuse from patients. Just a few days ago, I was even diagnosed with depression. If you hadn’t come to find me today, you might’ve been looking at my corpse instead…”
Her expression was heartbreakingly tragic, her performance worthy of an Oscar.
Seeing Paul stay silent, Elsie grew bolder and slowly leaned into his arms…
Meanwhile, Owen dragged his tired body through the front door after another long shift at the hospital. He changed into slippers and glanced toward the living room.
Lily was lounging on the couch, flipping through the latest fashion magazine.
Even though the Saunders family was barely scraping by financially, Lily never cut back on spending when it came to herself.
Not seeing Elsie around, Owen asked, “She’s not coming home again tonight?”
Lily gave a vague hum. “She called earlier. Said her advisor pulled her into some research project. She’s not coming back tonight.”
Owen nodded, figuring Elsie probably was due to graduate from her master’s program by now.
Thinking of Elsie naturally brought Yunice to mind.
He shook his head. To him, Yunice was a disgrace to academia – a ticking time bomb waiting to go off.
With the hospital’s new projects falling short of expectations, Owen was physically and mentally drained. He skipped dinner and went straight to the study.
Leaning back in his chair, he rubbed his temples with his fingers.
Then his phone rang. Without checking the caller ID, he picked it up, his voice weary. “Hello?”
“Mr. Owen, have you given any thought to selling Saunders Hospital?”
The entitlement in the voice instantly lit Owen’s fuse. “This is the last time I’m saying this – Saunders Hospital will go bankrupt before it’s sold off! That’s my father’s legacy. No one outside the Saunders family has the right to run it!”
Rumors about Saunders Hospital’s financial trouble had been swirling for a while. Lately, the calls from potential buyers were nonstop. Some even tried to pressure him with insultingly low offers, using underhanded tactics that had worn him down.
But Owen had never once considered selling.
After chewing the caller out, he tossed his phone toward the desk. It slid to the edge, nearly falling off.
A few moments later, the phone buzzed again. The vibrations echoed across the desk, grating on his nerves. Owen assumed it was another buyer and ignored it.
But the caller didn’t give up, dialing over and over.
The constant vibration made the whole desk shake. Owen, now thoroughly irritated, snatched up the phone and snapped, “I said I’m not selling! Not for any price! How many times do I have to repeat myself?!”
Owen frowned but kept listening.
“I’m here to collect a debt,” the caller said with a nasty little laugh.
Owen was puzzled. As far as he knew, the family didn’t owe anyone money. Thinking it might be a scam, he was about to hang up when the voice continued, “I have something that might interest you. If you’re not curious, I’ll just post it online.”
Despite the guy’s cryptic tone, curiosity got the better of him. Owen stayed on the line and asked in a low voice, “What is it?”
“Check your email,” the man replied.
Owen leaned forward and grabbed his mouse. Sure enough, a new message had appeared in his inbox.
He opened it and saw a video file at the top.
It was footage from when Elsie was in the hospital – Yunice had come to visit and unknowingly got recorded.
Owen’s voice went cold. “You were that paparazzi.”
The caller chuckled. “Good memory, Mr. Owen.”
Owen watched the video. Because of the angle, it only showed Yunice’s back, while his and Lily’s faces were clearly visible, along with a side view of Elsie sitting on the hospital bed.
Fortunately, the incriminating parts of the conversation were spoken in hushed tones, so the audio was muffled.
Owen assumed that was a mistake on the guy’s part. He scoffed. “You think you can blackmail me with a useless, blurry video? You’re dreaming.”
The caller spoke calmly, “I wouldn’t have dared to disturb you, Mr. Owen, without something real. Ever wonder why I waited this long after filming the video to reach out?”
A chill ran down Owen’s spine. He couldn’t guess what the man was getting at.
The voice on the other end chuckled darkly. “Finished reading the email yet, Mr. Owen?”