Chapter 52: Shadows at the Window
When Yunice still didn’t answer, Quinton’s voice turned colder, his patience wearing thin. “Maybe you don’t know who you’re dealing with, but I don’t give up on things easily—especially not those medical notes. If you can rewrite them from memory, name your price—whatever you want.”
Yunice didn’t flinch. “I can’t.”
“Ms. Yunice said you have an exceptional memory,” he shot back. “You just don’t want to—”
Yunice let out a breath. Of course. Elsie always finds a way to make my life harder.
“She lied. I’ve got a terrible memory. I’m mentally ill,” she said flatly, her eyes drifting toward the window, brows slightly furrowed. She thought she’d heard something earlier. Now, seeing the window shift slightly, she was sure something—or someone—was out there.
She set the phone down and moved toward the window quietly, missing Quinton’s final threat as the call cut off. At the window, Yunice stood still as she watched a thin wire slip through the gap, hooking the latch and twisting until it snapped free. Security cameras were installed on the outside wall, but the window wasn’t large—just meant for ventilation, so no security measures were in place. Yunice had no idea who was trying to break in.
Click. The lock gave way. A second later, the window was shoved open from the outside. Paul had one foot on the sill, both hands gripping the frame. He froze, startled by Yunice standing right there. But he recovered quickly and started to climb in.
Yunice moved faster. She shoved against him. “Get out!”
Paul frowned and glanced over his shoulder, then said, “Someone’s coming. You really want them to see me climbing through your window?”
Yunice’s face tightened. Paul was the one breaking the rules, but somehow she was the one getting cornered. Because everyone knew how things worked in the Saunders family—no matter who messed up, the blame always landed on…
“I’m serious, someone’s coming!” Paul whispered, urgency creeping into his voice.
Yunice clenched her teeth, then stepped aside. Paul climbed in and shut the window behind him. Outside, Elsie had followed and was pressed against the wall, eavesdropping. Inside, neither of them noticed. Yunice sat back at her desk with a cold expression and glanced at her phone. Quinton had already hung up.
Paul glanced around, taking in the familiar setup of her room. He quietly drew in a breath. That faint scent lingering in the air—hers—was both distant and familiar. It reminded Paul of something he hadn’t felt in a long time. It wasn’t sweet or particularly pleasant. More like herbs and old wood, with that sharp medicinal edge. He used to complain.
He shook off the thought, slid one hand into his pocket, and walked over with practiced cool. “Thanks for not throwing me under the bus with Owen earlier.”
Yunice looked up at him. Even when he apologized, he did it like he was doing her a favor—head up, chin lifted, looking down on her the whole time. Paul had been with plenty of women over the years, but Yunice had only ever seen him let his guard down for one—Elsie. When Elsie was mad, he’d crouch in front of her, looking up just to meet her eyes—desperate for even a flicker of her attention. When she smiled, he lit up like it was the only thing that mattered. His eyes never left her—they followed her like she was the center of his world. He was the classic spoiled rich boy, through and through. And yet, he must really love Elsie—because he actually changed for her.
Sometimes, Yunice had to admit it. Some people are just made to be loved, no matter how selfish or mean they are, even when they don’t deserve it.
Paul shifted uncomfortably when Yunice didn’t respond, his eyes landing on the scar across her face. His expression twisted with guilt mixed with unease. “That scar…” He hesitated, clearly uncomfortable, then blurted out, “If it ends up permanent… I’ll take responsibility. I’ll take care of you.”
Yunice blinked, stunned for a second—then looked at him with nothing but contempt.
Paul kept his chin up, still trying to play it cool. “What? Why are you looking at me like that? I’m only ever going to marry Elsie,” he said, then added casually, “But I can still take care of you. Make sure you’re comfortable—you wouldn’t have to worry about a thing.”
“So you want me to be your mistress?” Yunice shot back.
Paul frowned. “You seriously think you can compete with Elsie? You really think—”
“Paul, are you really this clueless!” Yunice cut him off, her voice ice cold. “I don’t want you. Isn’t that obvious? I hope you and Elsie stay tangled up forever—just keep me out of it.”
Paul stared at her, stunned. He didn’t speak for a long moment before his expression twisted into anger.
“You don’t want me? What, you want Wyatt now?”
“Not your business.” Yunice’s voice was cold.
“Oh, drop the act, Paul,” snapped, straightening up as his frustration spilled over. “This whole thing was just to get my attention, wasn’t it? You let me hurt you so I’d feel guilty. You covered for me so I’d start thinking about you again. Don’t tell me it wasn’t all a setup to make me show up. And now that I’m here, you’re acting innocent? Like you’re above it all? Please.”