The Daughter in the Shadows

Chapter 91: Poison, Performance, and Pretending

Morgan froze for three or four seconds, his face twisting green. Then he snapped up Yunice’s chin and growled, “Are you out of your damn mind?” But looking at her blank, dopey expression, the vicious glint in his eyes faded. His usual arrogant, lazy energy took over again.

He let go of her chin, dropped the leg that had been propped on the bed, and with a click, folded the spring-loaded knife and tossed it onto the tray with a loud clack. Hands in his pockets, he issued a command like a king: “Didn’t they say you’re good with medicine? Make me something. Or I’ll carve up that face.”

Yunice sat up straight. “What kind of medicine?”

Morgan leaned in, curling his lip like a snake preparing to strike, grinning with sick amusement. “The kind that makes women scream and men… excited. You get it.” The way he said it left no room for confusion. And whether the dummy in front of him could pick up on it, that was his twisted entertainment.

Yunice hesitated, then gave him a frightened glance. She slipped off the bed barefoot, went to Joe’s medicine cabinet, sniffed a few vials, and carefully ground some powders together. She wrapped it in a piece of paper and cautiously handed it to him.

Morgan snatched it with a smirk, eyeing her timid posture. “Coward,” he muttered. Wyatt really was pathetic—letting himself get blackmailed into marrying this thing. The more Morgan thought about it, the angrier he got. Without warning, he grabbed Yunice by the chin again and forced the powder into her mouth. As she choked and coughed violently, he laughed darkly. “Perfect. You can test it first. If it doesn’t work—just wait and see what I’ll do to you.”

He let go. Yunice’s knees gave out. She collapsed to the floor, cheeks flushed, eyes hazy, her breath growing shallow and warm. Footsteps approached outside. Morgan chuckled and turned to leave.

Wyatt opened the door just in time to see Yunice crumpled on the floor. He scanned the room quickly—only she was there. His brow furrowed as he rushed in and bent down to help her. “What happened?”

Yunice looked up at him, eyes wet, dark, glistening with desire. She stared at him without blinking. Wyatt paused, and Yunice took the opportunity to loop her arms around his neck. She leaned in, her breath hot on his ear.

Chapter 92: Claimed

Outside the room, Morgan leaned against the wall, hands in his pockets, looking as casual as ever. Seeing Wyatt walk in and fall into the trap, Morgan sneered, “Dummy… hope you’re ready to suffer.” He looked at the remaining powder in his hand and raised an eyebrow. Looked like the stuff actually worked.

Elsewhere in the hospital, Elsie was asking around for Yunice’s room. She didn’t expect Paul to suddenly appear in his wheelchair. Elsie walked over, arms wrapped around her clipboard, her voice soft. “Paul.”

Paul looked startled, glancing over. He’d come for Yunice—clearly didn’t expect to see Elsie here. He forced a polite smile. Elsie opened her arms like she was showing off. “Paul, don’t I look good in a white coat?”

Paul had always liked seeing her in one. Back at Saunders Hospital, he’d loved it. And the Silverburgh Hospital coat was even nicer. He had to like it. Sure enough, Paul’s gaze swept over her—from her hair, to the expensive designer clip, to her manicured hands.

He frowned. “Yunice said a proper doctor shouldn’t wear flashy stuff like that. No one said anything back at Saunders, but here, you’d better keep a lower profile.”

Elsie’s smile froze. She quickly removed the clip and jewelry, then crouched to place her hands gently on Paul’s legs. “I just wanted to make you proud. I won’t do it again…” As she spoke, her fingers slid deliberately across his inner thigh.

Paul’s breath caught. Elsie leaned in, her voice syrupy. “So, Paul, who looks better in a white coat—me or Yunice?” Whatever Paul thought of, it made his throat move with a slow swallow. Then he motioned for her to come closer.

Elsie stood and leaned in, the neckline of her coat angled just right. Paul whispered something in her ear that made her giggle. After a moment, Elsie stopped laughing. When Paul asked her something, she didn’t answer right away.

“Elsie?” Paul raised his voice slightly. She blinked, then leaned in to whisper back, “I’m listening.” Then she moved behind his chair and began to push. What Paul didn’t see, what he couldn’t see, was that she rolled him forward. Elsie turned her head and shared a flirtatious look with a red-haired man down the hall.