Chapter 107: Knowledge Is Power
As Yunice walked over, the lunatics scattered in shrieking laughter, revealing Lauren's lifeless body sprawled on the ground. Half of Lauren's face had been crushed, a sticky mess clinging to the cold floor. Her wide, unblinking eyes stared straight at Yunice, filled with unwillingness, hatred, and death.
Yunice's breath hitched. Her eyes flew open. But instead of waking up, the scene before her made her doubt whether she had left the nightmare at all. Because she saw Wyatt.
Wyatt was lying beside her, on the same bed. His head rested on her arm. God knows how long he had been pressing down on it. Yunice could not feel her arm anymore; it was numb to the point of nonexistence.
What made it worse was that Wyatt was actually awake. He lay there on his side, eyes half-lidded, lazily tracing every detail of her face. His warm and calloused fingertips brushed over her cheek. His low voice followed, “Your scar looks like it’s fading.”
This wasn’t a dream! Yunice snapped back to reality in an instant. She yanked her arm back. Wyatt lifted his head slightly, watching as she cradled her arm protectively in her chest, as if guarding it from being used as a pillow ever again.
This man, this big grown man, actually let someone hold him to sleep? Ridiculous. Yunice and Wyatt were hardly close. She darted her eyes around the room and found that Gill was gone. Sunlight spilled in through the gaps in the curtains. Morning had come.
Wyatt’s gaze was still on her, steady, unrelenting, making her scalp tingle. Did this man not have a home of his own? Why was he always ending up in my bed?
Yunice could not help but recall Gill’s teasing from the night before… Men think with the lower half. And Wyatt had indeed expressed his interest in her more than once. Now, lying together like this, Yunice’s mind spiraled. Wyatt’s legs are not well, but if one day the mood struck him, did that mean she would have to… take the initiative?
Yunice frowned deeply. She would rather die. As if sensing her thoughts, Wyatt reached for her arm again. Yunice was instantly on high alert. Already! Now! Stop pulling! I don’t want to sleep with any man! Should I just cripple him completely? It was only a shot away, anyway.
He was calm. “Give me your arm. Fin—going back to sleep.”
What was this? Forget it. Let him do whatever. Yunice lay there stiffly. Her arm was slender, so even under his neck, it did not feel particularly uncomfortable. The ward was quiet. No one would come to disturb them.
Yet, just as the peace settled in, Wyatt’s low voice cut through the air. “What are you mumbling about?” He wasn’t asleep?
Yunice replied, “Russian.” She had been practicing her Russian pronunciation, rolling her tongue, muttering softly. He would probably feel the vibrations through her arm.
Wyatt closed his eyes again. “That’s probably useless.”
Yunice countered without thinking, “Knowledge is power.”
Wyatt snorted. “Are brains more useful than fists? Let’s see you say that when someone’s insulting you in Russian and you don’t understand a word.”
Yunice gave up on her practice. Silence returned. Staring up at the ceiling, Yunice suddenly remembered that Wyatt had never gone to school. From what she knew, Wyatt had left the Powell family’s little courtyard when he was around thirteen or fourteen. Before that, he had not studied a single day.
She had heard the maids gossip when she was younger that Jackson had always intended to cripple Wyatt from the start. Otherwise, if this wild child grew up properly, he would eventually overturn the Powell family itself.
After fourteen, Wyatt shot up and grew tall and lean. The tiny courtyard could not hold him anymore. He would climb the walls, get into fights, and cause trouble everywhere. Every time, Jackson would have him dragged back, beaten bloody, and thrown into the ancestral hall.
Later, after Wyatt’s mother died, he disappeared for years. No one knew where he went. But Yunice was certain that it was not school. He probably fought his way through life with his fists. No wonder he disdained learning. Because he had never benefitted from it.
But Yunice was not like him. Her fists were soft. Her brain was her only weapon. Still, turning knowledge into money was slow work. She had already asked Kingsley to help her find a Chinese medicine shop that was looking to sell. She should hear back in the next couple of days.
Wyatt slept for another two hours. When he woke, he straightened his wrinkled shirt and handed Yunice a bank card. Inside was a $41,000 deposit for the Alphasirox pills. “Keep the card. Any future payments can go here too?” Business. Clear-cut, money for goods.