Chapter 472 A Hundred Slaps More
As if to challenge Owen directly, Yunice said coldly, “Do you not know how to count, or are you just deaf? I said a hundred slaps. You still owe seventy-six.”
“Yunice!” Owen’s eyes burned red as he shouted. His voice trembled with grievance, as if accusing her of being heartless.
They were her closest family.
Yunice, staring at her fingers as she toyed with them, replied coolly, “Seventy-six. Not one less.”
In her mind flashed all the times Lily had ignored her, badmouthed her, chosen others over her.
She remembered Owen sending her to the psych ward—how she clung to the electric fence, begging him not to leave her there as the current shocked through her body.
Did he waver then?
When he saved Elsie from the fire and left her behind—did he regret it?
When he hit her with his car—did he hesitate?
When she was locked in the ward against her will—did he feel even a twinge of guilt?
No. Not once.
So she wouldn’t soften either. No mercy.
Suddenly, a scream tore out from the kitchen—Elsie’s voice—then silence.
Owen and Lily froze in fear. Owen shot to his feet.
Without thinking, he lunged forward, ready to shove Yunice aside. He thought she’d move.
But she didn’t. She stood there, unmoving, as if daring him to do it.
Owen stopped abruptly, his eyes locking with hers.
She looked back at him calmly, her small frame somehow radiating impenetrable strength.
Even if he could throw her aside with one arm.
His fists clenched until his knuckles cracked. His whole body trembled with rage and frustration. But after a long few seconds, he stopped himself from laying a hand on her.
Instead, he raised both hands, alternating left and right, slapping himself forty times on each side.
By the time he was done, his face was swollen and streaked with bruised red prints. Glaring at her, he spat, “Is that enough?!”
Yunice lowered her eyes and slowly stepped aside, clearing the way to the kitchen.
Owen stormed past her, but the anger only festered deeper. He turned back, pointed a shaking hand at her, and yelled, “You’re no sister of mine. Don’t ever step foot in the Saunders house again!”
Yunice met his eyes.
Not even a flicker of fear on her face.
His fury only flared hotter when it crashed into her indifference.
He stormed to the kitchen door and kicked it open.
Lily scrambled up from the floor and ran after him.
Inside, they found Elsie with a dish rag stuffed in her mouth, her wrists tied with plastic wrap like makeshift ropes.
Owen rushed to untie her and yanked the rag out.
Elsie immediately collapsed into his arms, sobbing. She cried that Peggy had been hitting her in the stomach, saying it wouldn’t leave bruises—so even if she died, no one would be able to prove it.
Owen glared daggers at Peggy, then gently lifted Elsie into his arms. “Don’t be scared. I’ll take you to the hospital.”
Elsie, still weak and trembling, leaned against him and whimpered, “Owen… how much longer do we have to live like this? Can’t you divorce her…”
She broke down in sobs before she could finish.
Owen’s heart ached. He blamed himself. His uselessness had dragged his whole family into this mess.
Red-eyed, he carried Elsie out without sparing Yunice a single glance.
But from the crook of Owen’s arm, Elsie peeked back and flashed Yunice a smug, mocking smile.
It didn’t matter how hard Yunice tried—whether she raged or begged—Owen would never spare her even a scrap of sympathy.
Yunice caught the look and curled her lip in disdain.
Did she really think that would hurt her?
No love means no weakness. No feelings means no leverage. Yunice had long stopped caring about these irrelevant people.
Lily grabbed her phone and followed after Owen.
The family trailed after Elsie once again.
Yunice stayed where she was, thinking back to the way Lily had grabbed her phone just now.
Something felt off.
Normally, when someone isn’t using their phone, they lay it flat. But Lily had placed it on its side—camera facing outward.
Could it be…
Peggy strolled out of the kitchen, arms crossed, scoffing. “That family is seriously messed up.”
She hadn’t laid a finger on Elsie—just tied her up. But Elsie’s dramatics were Oscar-worthy.
Peggy sat down and glanced toward the cramped little servant’s room. “You really had it rough in this house, huh…”
She gave a rare, sincere look. “I feel for you. From now on, I’m on your side. I’ll help you deal with them.”
Yunice’s face stayed blank. She wasn’t about to be fooled by Peggy’s sudden warmth.
Wolves don’t turn into housecats overnight. This was about leverage—nothing more. Once Peggy was done with the Saunders family, she’d turn on Yunice next.
But for now, as long as Peggy was busy tearing into them, Yunice didn’t need to lift a finger. Peggy would protect her all on her own.