Chapter 234: Apologize or Bleed

The car was already waiting downstairs. Remembering Yunice hadn't finished her sentence earlier, Wyatt asked, “What were you trying to say just now?”

Yunice glanced at the people passing by and shook her head. “It’s nothing.”

Wyatt didn’t press her. He took her to a private club; the suite was full of people, and Bale opened the door. Yunice had met him once before—she knew who he was, but they weren’t close. Still, the first thing he did was greet her with a casual, “Sister-in-law,” before even acknowledging Wyatt. The word caught Yunice off guard; her cheeks flushed. She wasn’t used to it.

Once they stepped into the room, Bale moved a chair for her, and Jordan set out utensils at her place. Only one woman standing nearby seemed to be eyeing Yunice closely. Yunice sensed the hostility almost instinctively. But when she looked up, the woman quickly replaced the look with a pleasant smile. She was introduced as Amyra—Bale’s girlfriend.

As the drinks and conversation flowed, everyone stayed respectful toward Yunice. No one tried to make things hard for her. At one point during dinner, Yunice excused herself to use the restroom. Amyra stood up immediately. “Ms. Saunders, I’ll go with you.” Bale stepped aside without hesitation. Wyatt didn’t say anything.

As soon as the two women left, Bale brought Morgan into the room. Morgan’s shirt collar was torn, and he and Bale were still pushing at each other by the time they reached Wyatt. Morgan finally stopped, standing there with that bratty, insolent look on his face, just begging to be slapped.

Wyatt leaned forward and stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray. A faint hiss broke the silence of the room. Morgan’s mouth twitched slightly, but he fought to keep his composure. Wyatt said, “Apologize to Yunice.”

Morgan’s face flushed deep red. Wyatt said again, “Don’t make me say it twice.” Morgan realized he meant it.

Because usually, no matter how out of line he acted, Wyatt turned a blind eye—even if Morgan danced in his face. But now, he was drawing a hard line. Morgan couldn’t accept that. No way at all. He kicked over a footstool and shouted, “When was the last time you even went back to Gardison Residence?”

Jordan and Bale immediately moved to hold him back, but Morgan thrashed like a madman and broke free, screaming, “That woman is disgusting! She’s been used up—how the heck is she still worth anything?”

Bang! Morgan went flying. Jordan and Bale hadn’t been able to stop it. Their faces went pale. Others might not have realized it, but they did—Wyatt almost never used that kind of force on Morgan. He hadn’t even gotten back up.

Wyatt sat back down, annoyed, and pulled another cigarette from the pack. “Call him an ambulance.” Morgan, as arrogant as he usually was, didn’t even try to act tough this time. It was clear he was actually hurt.

Still, as they helped him out, he clenched his jaw and muttered, “She just took a hit for Rainier Arc Street, and now she’s suddenly—” His fists trembled. He glared at Wyatt, who sat in the shadows, the faint glow of his fingers the only color in the dim light, and finally walked away, bitter and defeated.

Wyatt barely touched the new cigarette before crushing it out again in the ashtray. Jordan exchanged a look with Bale, giving him the signal to go get Yunice. The room had turned heavy with silence. Bale jogged toward the restroom.

In the bathroom, Yunice and Amyra were washing their hands. Yunice took the initiative. “Ms. Amyra. It’s been a while.”

Amyra wiped her hands dry, then tilted her head. “You’ve changed a lot, Ms. Saunders…”

Yunice said nothing. In Silverburgh’s social circles, Elsie had long since replaced her as the Saunders family’s representative. As far as society was concerned, Yunice didn’t even exist. Amyra, like Bale and Jordan, had known her in the past. And if they’d known her before, they definitely recognized her now.

Yunice said, “Ms. Amyra, I can tell people seem to have a problem with me. Since we used to be on decent terms, could you give me a heads-up?”

When Yunice said “decent terms,” Amyra’s lashes visibly fluttered. She didn’t look at Yunice. Instead, she squirted some hand cream onto her palm. “You’re not Ms. Saunders anymore, and you’re not Paul’s fiancée either. You’re a nobody now. Who has the time to go out of their way to make things difficult for you?”

Yunice heard the implication beneath her words. “So it’s still because of Wyatt, isn’t it?”

Amyra frowned, hesitated, then glanced around the restroom to make sure no one was listening. Finally, she lowered her voice. “You really shouldn’t marry Wyatt. If you do, you’ll regret it eventually.”

“That’s all I can say.” With that, Amyra grabbed her purse, brushed past Yunice, and walked out. Yunice tossed the used paper towel into the trash and followed behind her.