Filed to story: The Daughter in the Shadows (Yunice) Book by Una Norris
A jolt ran through Wyatt’s gut. He stared at her intently, but didn’t make a move. Yunice’s hand continued exploring under his shirt, reaching for his belt. But the moment her hand brushed his waist, Wyatt pulled her firmly against him.
Both of them were soaked, their clothes clinging to their skin, revealing hints of color beneath the fabric. With one hand, Wyatt covered the small of her back, pinning her tightly to his chest. He exhaled hard. “Don’t test my patience.” He was barely holding on.
Yunice didn’t say a word. Just looking at her was enough to scramble his senses. Wyatt lost control, hands slipping under her shirt-then, just as suddenly, he broke away.
Yunice was breathless, confused by the distance he’d created. Wyatt let go. “Next time,” he said. He turned the water from cold to warm, then stepped out and shut the door.
Yunice stood alone under the still-running shower, water pouring around her. Through the foggy glass, she could see Wyatt leaning against the door outside. Her breath slowly began to steady. She stepped under the spray, took off her clothes, and washed up.
A few minutes later, she cracked the bathroom door open and asked, “Do you have anything I can wear?”
By the time Yunice came out wrapped in a towel, Wyatt had taken the bathroom for himself. A staff member brought up a change of clothes. Yunice unfolded the dress-princess-style. Wyatt seemed to have a soft spot for that look.
After changing, Yunice sat at the vanity to curl her hair. It had been a long time since she’d dressed up properly. The puffed skirt was lovely, and curls suited it. Wyatt came over, wearing a robe and drying his hair with a towel. He stood behind her. Neither of them mentioned what had happened in the bathroom.
Yunice didn’t care what Wyatt thought. In that moment, she just wanted to relieve the pressure.
“Move in with me. Pavilion Hall,” Wyatt said, leaning over her chair, eyes meeting hers through the mirror. The wedding was in four days. It didn’t really matter when she moved in. Yunice turned to him and nodded.
Wyatt stared at her for a long time, finding her soft pink lips more tempting than ever. Their eyes met-then Yunice’s phone rang. She glanced at the screen. “It’s Carl.”
Wyatt stepped aside as she got up, her skirt swaying as she moved. The moment she stepped out, she saw Bale and Amyra standing nearby, looking downcast. They hadn’t even cleaned off the soot and ash from their bodies.
Yunice paused and followed their gaze-Wyatt had just walked out behind her. Amyra was quick to speak. “This wasn’t my fault. I don’t even know how the fire started.”
Bale added, “We checked the footage. The wind blew a cigarette from the trash can onto the carpet. It wasn’t arson, we swear.” They really didn’t get it. The fire hadn’t been that big, and no one had been burned-so why had Yunice completely fallen apart, too paralyzed to even help herself?
“It wasn’t their fault,” Yunice said. Amyra glanced at her, then lowered her head. From across the hall came the click of high heels. Hua…
Wyatt looked down at Yunice. “Go on.” Carl was here for her, not for him.
Carl sat across from Yunice. “I’ve got two things for you-one good news, and one… well, you’ll have to decide whether it’s good or bad. Which one do you want first?”
“The good news.”
“I got you a dowry.”
Yunice’s fingers froze. She looked at Carl, eyes softening with emotion. She’d never dared hope for a family to see her off-much less prepare a dowry. Elsie had gotten one. Back then, Lily had thought the Powell family was marrying Elsie, and she’d gone all out, buying her lavish gifts and obsessing over every wedding detail. Once they realized the bride was Yunice, no one mentioned a dowry again. No one even offered to help her with the wedding.
So Yunice had always told herself-she didn’t have a family.
“Wyatt holds too much power,” Carl said. “Ordinary dowries don’t mean anything to him. I’m planning to transfer the Northvale sponsorship to you. That way, you’ll have leverage-Wyatt won’t be able to push you around so easily.”
Carl had access to the most advanced medical equipment overseas, which made both Lu Boyu and Wyatt eager to win him over. And now, that enormous asset was being handed over to her-just like that.
Yunice didn’t dare accept.
“What’s there to be afraid of?” Carl said. “I don’t believe in marriage. I’m too old for kids, and I never planned to have any. You’re Pingwei’s only surviving child. I’m recognizing you as my goddaughter.”
Yunice’s nose stung. She couldn’t say a word. When someone’s been neglected for too long, warmth starts to feel dangerous. She feared getting burned. Feared it was just a dream. Feared she’d never be able to repay it.
But Carl shoved the transfer papers into her hands. “Even if your father were still alive, I’d still give you this gift.”
Yunice’s throat tightened. “Thank you, Carl. Or… should I stop calling you Mr. Carl?” She hesitated, then said, softly but sincerely, “…Dad.”
Blood ties had failed her. So why not go with her heart? Anyone who treated her well-she’d treat them like family.
Carl gave a satisfied hum. Then he added, “Now for the second piece of news. Your brother Oscar is back. He’s at the Saunders estate right now.” Carl looked up at her. “Do you want to see him?”
Yunice shook her head. “I don’t.” No matter what role Oscar had played in how the Saunders family had treated her, she wanted nothing more to do with any of them. Uncle Qing had already helped her establish a new identity. She was still Yunice-but no longer that Yunice.
Carl understood. “Then there’s no need to notify them about the wedding. I’ll attend in their…
The Saunders Residence
The moment Oscar returned, he was told that Yunice had died in a car accident. He didn’t believe it. He grabbed Owen by the collar. “That’s not funny! Do you understand what a death omen is?!”
Yunice was about to get married. It was supposed to be a joyous occasion-and they were saying she was dead?
Owen bowed his head, silent even under Oscar’s interrogation. Yunice really was gone. She wasn’t coming back.
Elsie stepped forward, sniffling. “Oscar… it’s true. She passed away. If you’d come back a week earlier, maybe… maybe you could’ve seen her one last time….”
Oscar’s devastated gaze swept past her, settling back on Owen. “You’re saying she’s dead? Then where’s her photo? Where’s her grave? You expect me to believe this with nothing but your word?”
Elsie sobbed harder. “We haven’t arranged a funeral yet. We didn’t know how to explain it to the Powell family… so we were waiting for you to come home and decide…”
Oscar ignored her. He turned to his mother. “Mom. You wouldn’t lie to me, right? Yunice is your daughter. You wouldn’t joke about something like this, would you?”
Lily blinked through teary eyes, avoiding his gaze. That one evasive look told Oscar everything. They weren’t joking.
His temper exploded. “Then tell me who hit her? Who killed her?!”
Owen went pale. His fingers clenched, lips trembling as he worked up the nerve to admit it had been his fault…
But Elsie cut in. “We don’t know who did it…”
“Yunice didn’t have any enemies. But if I had to name someone who might have wanted her gone, I’d say Wyatt…”
“Wyatt?” Oscar stared at her, stunned. Even Owen was caught off guard. Elsie knew the truth. She glanced at Owen and subtly shook her head. Don’t confess. If you do, Oscar will blame you.
And even if Oscar believed Wyatt was the killer, Wyatt’s power would make the truth impossible to pursue.
Owen read the signal in her eyes. Guilt gnawed at him, but he still echoed her. “Elsie, don’t talk. Nonsense. We have no proof. Don’t drag us into something we can’t handle.”
The more he denied it, the more Oscar believed it. He sneered at Owen. “You’re so scared of consequences, you won’t even stand up for your own sister?”
“Owen…”
Oscar shoved him aside and stormed out. “You might be scared-but I’m not. I’ll ask him myself!”
Wyatt wasn’t someone you crossed lightly. Lily panicked, afraid something worse might happen. She quickly told Owen and Elsie to chase after him.
Yunice was still having tea with Carl. Freya stood nearby, seamlessly refilling their cups while chiming in now and then, helping smooth out the wedding-day logistics Carl was handling. But Yunice noticed Freya kept glancing at her.
Curious, she finally asked, “Freya, is something wrong? You keep looking at me.”
Freya put the teapot down and replied with interest, “Your dress. I’ve been trying to figure out which brand it is, but I can’t.”
Yunice checked the seams and realized-there was no logo at all. “Wyatt gave it to me. Maybe it’s custom-made…” She trailed off, realizing something didn’t add up. Custom clothing required measurements-and no one had ever taken hers. Even the tailor Luke brought to the Saunders home hadn’t collected any actual numbers. So how did this dress fit her so perfectly?
Freya frowned. “That’s odd. Even with custom work, designers usually leave a mark inside the cuff. It’s a status symbol. Nothing on this? That’s strange.”
Yunice shrugged it off. “Maybe Wyatt doesn’t care about that stuff. Maybe he just grabbed it off a rack somewhere.” So maybe the tag just wasn’t legit.
As they chatted, someone knocked on the door. Freya gave Yunice a knowing look and smiled. “I bet that’s Mr. Wyatt. Couldn’t wait to come collect you.”
Yunice was a beat too slow to catch the teasing tone in Freya’s voice. She lowered her gaze, absentmindedly tracing circles on her teacup. She had no idea Carl had been watching her closely the entire time. Carl thought to himself Yunice probably felt some goodwill toward Wyatt, but not much more than that.
Freya opened the door-and froze. It wasn’t Wyatt. It was Paul.
Yunice looked at Carl, who subtly gestured for her to hide behind the screen. With the wedding so close, it was better to stay hidden-just in case someone decided to cause trouble.