Chapter 239: The Dead Don’t Shop for Diamonds

Don’t go soft now.

Owen’s voice was hoarse. “Oscar, if it’s too much for you, let’s go drink. Get wasted, and the pain will pass.”

Oscar didn’t respond, so Owen took the lead and dragged him to a restaurant. Oscar downed half a bottle of liquor, one slam after another, his eyes bloodshot.

Then Owen brought someone in. “Oscar, Paul came to see you…”

Oscar turned—just in time to see Paul’s face—and launched to his feet, punching him hard enough to send his jaw sideways. “You promised me you’d take care of Yunice! Why are you still alive while she’s dead?! Where were you when she got in that car crash?!”

Paul hissed, wiping the blood from his mouth. Annoyed, he glanced at Elsie, who quickly lowered her head.

So Oscar still didn’t know Yunice had broken off the engagement with the Powell family. He’d spent ten years in the lab, completely cut off from the outside world. He knew nothing about what had happened in the Saunders family.

Paul frowned. “Yunice was supposed to marry Wyatt.”

Slouching into a seat with casual arrogance, he said, “She begged for it. What were we supposed to do, get on our knees and plead with her?”

Oscar snapped, “And what about you?! You’re marrying the Kendall girl now! Don’t think I didn’t know—you were never faithful in school. Yunice must’ve given up on you, that’s why she ran off and agreed to marry Wyatt out of spite!”

“Yeah, I fooled around. I slept around. But Yunice never kicked up a fuss. She kept her mouth shut. I think she just saw Wyatt’s status and got greedy!”

Oscar’s eyes turned murderous. Elsie quickly stepped in, trying to smooth things over. “Yunice is gone now. Who’s to say what really happened between them?”

Owen nodded. “She’s right. You’ve been away for years, Oscar. You don’t know what’s been going on at home. Paul wasn’t blameless, sure—but Yunice wasn’t perfect either. The breakup wasn’t all his fault. Otherwise, I would’ve punched him too.”

Oscar narrowed his eyes, sizing up Owen. As a child, Owen had loved Yunice the most. If even he was saying this… maybe there really was more to the story.

Once Oscar finally sat back down, Owen changed the subject. “Oscar, we can’t just wallow in grief. How’s your research coming?”

Oscar clenched his fist. “I’ve been at it ten years. I wouldn’t have come back if I failed.”

Owen’s eyes lit up. “If you invest, we might have a real shot at taking Wyatt on!”

But Oscar covered his face, his voice breaking. “Stop talking business. I just want Yunice back.”

He knew that was impossible. He took a long breath as tears slid down his cheeks. Then he stood. “You all keep drinking. I’m going home—to see Yunice’s things.”

Elsie panicked. There was nothing left of Yunice at home. If Oscar found out they’d kept her in the maid’s quarters all this time, he’d explode.

Everyone scrambled to hold him back, distracting him with more booze and chatter.

Later, after a few rounds, Paul left to use the restroom. Just as he fastened his belt and reached to open the stall door, a hand pressed it shut from the outside, leaving only a crack. A mocking voice slipped through the gap. “Yunice isn’t dead. You’ve all been played.”

Paul flared with anger, ready to yell—until a small ring was passed through the opening. It was a raffia ring. The straw was yellowing with age.

“She threw it out. Right in front of Wyatt.”

Paul stared, stunned, then snatched the ring. The moment the pressure on the door released, he kicked it open—but there was no one there. Not even a shadow. He looked back down at the ring in his hand. It was hers. The same raffia ring he’d once returned to Yunice.

Could she really be alive? Had she faked her death—just to mess with them? The guilt he’d been drowning in these past few days… the endless remorse…

Fury surged through him. His grip tightened until the ring crumpled.

Without telling Owen or the others, Paul stormed off. While driving, he called around to dig up Wyatt’s schedule. What he found made his blood run cold. He gripped the steering wheel so hard it creaked under his hands. Wyatt was at a jewelry store.

Without a second thought, Paul headed straight for the biggest store in Silverburgh. He brushed past the staff trying to stop him from entering the VIP room and stormed inside—and there they were. Wyatt, his back turned. And Yunice—alive. She sat on a high stool under the boutique’s elegant lighting, her legs long and graceful beneath layers of sheer fabric, glowing with a soft, ethereal shimmer.