Chapter 531 Names in the Dark
“I’ve been reviewing Oscar’s case,” Victor began. “I think we need to start by digging into Elsie’s private life.”
Yunice’s gaze flicked toward the doorway. Noticing this, Victor seemed to realize sitting at her bedside might be seen as inappropriate. “Oh,” he said casually, “your door was open. I figured you weren’t really asleep.”
Yunice had dozed off fully dressed, in one of the Crawford estate’s side lounges–so technically, it wasn’t a true intrusion. She walked over and took the notebook from Victor, flipping through the pages filled with his analysis.
“To figure out who might be involved,” Victor continued, “we need to identify everyone who could’ve had relations with Elsie–excluding spontaneous incidents.”
Yunice picked up the pen and immediately jotted down: Paul. That one was beyond question. Then she added another name.
Victor raised his eyebrows. “Morgan?” He nodded slowly. “I’ve heard of him–he’s somehow connected to Wyatt, isn’t he?”
Yunice knew more than anyone. Morgan was Nora’s younger brother, and Wyatt spoiled him. Morgan had better not be involved. If he was, Wyatt might try to cover for him. That was exactly why Yunice hadn’t discussed the case with Wyatt. She didn’t trust herself to gamble on who held more weight in Wyatt’s heart–her or Nora. And if it came down to Oscar versus Morgan, who would Wyatt protect?
She said, “Morgan and Elsie had a fling. But right now, there’s no solid link between him and the case.” She circled his name, adding a pending next to it.
Victor mused, “Other than those two, is there really anyone else?”
Yunice stared at the notebook for a long while. Then, with a sardonic curve of her lips, she added a third name.
Victor was visibly shocked. “Owen?”
Half-siblings–same mother, different fathers. Could something like that really happen?
“It’s just a bold theory,” Yunice muttered. “People wear masks. Who knows what they’re really like in private?”
Her suspicion wasn’t groundless. Elsie had suffered a miscarriage early on. But Paul was infertile, and Morgan had the XYY “supermale” gene—genetically incapable of producing offspring. So who had gotten her pregnant? There had to be someone else. But only Elsie knew who it was.
“It doesn’t matter who she slept with,” Yunice said as she set the pen down. “I just want to know how Oscar got dragged into this mess.”
Victor gave her a long look, then silently picked the pen back up and added another name. He slid the notebook across to her. “Assumptions are the enemy of deduction.”
Yunice looked down and saw it: Oscar.
Oscar, thirty years old. Ten years abroad. For a decade, he hadn’t spoken to a single family member. Did they really know who he was? This was the same man who’d carved letters into Paul’s face with a scalpel–an extreme act by any standard. And what would Oscar truly think of Elsie, who had become the face of the Saunders family?
Yunice’s expression grew grim. She couldn’t dismiss Victor’s theory.
Victor placed a hand gently on her shoulder. “Whoever made the choice–it’s on them. Not on you.” Yunice nodded silently. But something felt off. She instinctively turned–and froze.
Victor felt the shift under his hand and looked up too. Wyatt stood at the door, jacket in hand, eyes dark with mockery.
Yunice stood quickly, hand behind her back, casually flipping the notebook shut. “You came to pick me up?”
“Yeah,” Wyatt replied, stepping into the room. He placed his hand firmly on her shoulder–right where Victor’s hand had just been–and gave a deliberate squeeze. “Let’s go. I haven’t slept in almost two days.”
Yunice gave a quiet nod. She turned slightly to bid Victor farewell, but Wyatt gently steered her away, blocking her view. “Let’s go.”
Behind them, Victor smirked. Jealous, are we?
Outside the Crawford estate, with no one else around, Yunice spoke up. “I’m not Elsie.” She wasn’t the type to catch feelings for a brother. Carl was her godfather. She and Victor had boundaries.
Wyatt didn’t dodge her meaning. “You’re not Elsie,” he said evenly, “but that doesn’t mean Victor isn’t Owen.” He added coldly, “Pity is always the first step toward something more.” Then, sharper still, “How do you know Victor doesn’t have feelings for you?”