Chapter 97
Tyrone asked with a mix of frustration and disbelief, “Why do you hate that siren so much, ma? With the baby gone, she can’t use that to worm her way into our family. Isn’t that a good thing? If she actually managed to get her foot through our front door, do you really think life would be a bed of roses?”
Cecilia huffed with an air of Irrefutable authority, “Good or bad, that’s my business. Don’t you try to sidestep this, or feed me any of your tall tales. You’re not getting any younger, Tyrone. Do you really think you can just snap your fingers and have kids whenever you want? You’ve lost your own flesh and blood, and I tell you, you just wait and see. Hmph!”
Rubbing his temple, Tyrone felt a headache brewing from his mother’s relentless nagging.
Quintessa was an absolute nightmare. He rose abruptly, “I’ve got to run. Something’s come up.”
Cecilia’s voice boomed behind him, “Tyrone, you think you can just sweep this under the rug? Think again!” He halted midstride, and turned back briefly, “Mom, you should wise up a bit, too.”
“Wise up? Who are you calling clueless? You stay right there!”
After escaping the family drama, Tyrone made a call to his assistant. “James, can you dig up what Quintessa was up to at the hospital today?”
Although Tyrone was inclined to believe that Quintessa was just being her usual thorn–in–the–side self, a
part of him
He
Couldn’t help but feel worried.
confront her right then and there to get the story straight.
The following mongst
at his office, James handed Tyrone a stack of papers. “Mr. York, Ms. Quintessa Young went to the hospital for a gastric issue yesterday. She was on an IV drip. And here’s the information you asked me to compile on Ms. Young’s past three years abroad. It took some time because she moved around quite a bit in Serenitia, and some of the records are incomplete.”
Relieved to hear that Quintessa’s visit was for a stomach problem and not something more serious, Tyrone felt his concern eased–but only momentarily. Upon reviewing the extensive yet incomplete file, he tensed up again, with his expression darkened; his hands were trembling slightly as he read.
For the past three years, Quintessa’s life had been nothing short of a harrowing series of odd jobs and
escapes.
The Young family never ceased their persecution. She had been framed, plotted against, beaten, and
hunted.
She had lived on the streets, starving and freezing.
During her darkest moments, when she was close to death, not a soul offered her warmth or a helping hand to shield her from life’s storms.
Wandering alone in a foreign land, amidst the cold indifference of strangers and relentless attacks from her own kin, she fought like a cornered animal–bloody and battered, but somehow she survived.
Beauty, at times, was a curse.
The more beautiful the woman, the harder it seemed for her to live in this era.
No one knew the hardships Quintessa endured, nor could anyone fathom the depths of her suffering.
11:13
What deep–seated hatred could drive her own family, the Youngs, to relentlessly pursue
the earth?
the ends of Copyright Nôv/el/Dra/ma.Org.
Tyrone had never taken the time to understand the intricate dynamics within the Young family, he was only aware of that Quintessa’s animosity towards them probably stemmed from her mother’s past.
Even after rescuing Quintessa from one of Rachel’s schemes, he had remained disinterested–until now.