Chapter 65: The Bitter Joke
Everything Owen had just said felt like a cruel joke. He’d told Yunice not to interfere with the Saunders family’s affairs, but he’d never given her a chance to be involved in the first place. Yunice didn’t care what schemes they were cooking up to get Elsie married into the Powell family. She actually couldn’t wait to see what kind of life that pathetic couple would end up living after their wedding. Yunice didn’t bother snooping on whatever plans Elsie was whispering about upstairs, even though she could have easily pulled the surveillance footage from the study.
What had her attention right now was Jackson. What exactly is he up to? Only someone as naive as Owen would actually believe Jackson felt guilty. Jackson had treated his own son with ruthless coldness; he wouldn’t have shown mercy to Yunice. People like Jackson never made a move unless there was something in it for them. The shift in his attitude had to be about some hidden benefit. Yet, even Yunice couldn’t figure out what value she still had left.
Just then, a faint vibration buzzed at her side. It was a spare phone Yunice had bought off the black market—she always kept it close, hidden from the rest of the Saunders family. Only two people ever messaged her at that number—Gill and Joe. She hadn’t saved Joe’s number, and this text was from an unknown sender: “Ms. Saunders, this is Joe. Sorry to bother you, but do you happen to know any remedies for external injuries?”
External injuries? Joe was a renowned doctor—treating wounds was routine for him. He was probably asking for something to ease pain and make the process more tolerable for his patient. Yunice actually knew a few remedies, so she texted back: “Mix equal parts of frankincense and myrrh, grind them into a fine powder, and apply it directly to the wound. It’ll help clean out dead tissue, promote healing, relieve pain, and stop the bleeding.”
Joe replied quickly: “Thank you.” Just then, Owen and Elsie came down the stairs. Owen spoke in a low voice to her, “Don’t go to the hospital for now; it’ll look bad.” He’d spent another chunk of money to temporarily pacify that family, but there was no telling if it would be enough next time. Unless Elsie got her medical license, she really couldn’t keep using patients to practice.
Elsie pouted. “But what about my internship, Owen? Am I supposed to delay graduation now?”
Owen reassured her. “Just treat it as a break. Focus on getting things settled with Paul. Once you’re part of the Powell family, their resources will be yours to use—graduating will be a breeze.”
Hearing that, Elsie brightened again. Owen sighed with relief. “Thank God Yunice still holds some leverage with Mr. Jackson, otherwise, I wouldn’t have had a way to cover for you.”
The thought of marrying into the Powell family and rising above the entire Saunders clan made Elsie so giddy she clung to Owen’s arm and beamed, “You’re the best, Owen. I wouldn’t have known what to do without your help.”
Owen looked at her fondly. “You were smart enough to act when it mattered. If you hadn’t taken that step with Paul, he wouldn’t have committed so soon.”
They walked through the living room without even noticing Yunice standing silently in the tea room. She lowered her gaze and quietly set her glass down. Owen’s words were like a dull blade, slicing through her chest. When she and Paul had been caught, Owen hadn’t said anything like this. Her father had just passed, and she had only been seventeen.
At a Powell family banquet, Paul had shown up dressed to the nines—only for someone to spot the love bites on his neck. Everyone had laughed and joked about how passionate the young couple was; they’d called them a perfect match, full of youthful fire. It was only natural for things to happen. Jackson had smiled and called Yunice a good girl, but his gaze had shifted—like he thought she’d deliberately seduced Paul and exposed their affair. After that, the Powell family’s attitude toward her changed, and so did the Saunders family’s. Owen had made her kneel for three days at her father’s grave, demanding she repent for her shameful behavior. She could still see the disgust and fury on his face. But how, when the same thing happened with Elsie, he acted like a different man—full of praise.
“You were smart enough to act when it mattered. How could I have raised such a filthy sister! You’ve shamed me completely!” The same voice, the same mouth—yet such drastically different words. They echoed back and forth in Yunice’s mind, shredding the part of her heart she thought had already gone numb. Even after everything, it still hurt. She was angry at their bias; angry at the injustice of it all.
Yunice clenched the glass in her hand until her nails lost color from the pressure. Only after forcing herself to calm down did she return to her room—where she picked up that pink cashmere scarf…