Enchanted Nightfall: Falling for Destiny

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?”

Tyrone was inclined to believe that Quintessa was just being her usual

part of him

He

help but

right then and there to get the story

The following mongst

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

Tyrone felt his concern eased–but only momentarily. Upon reviewing the extensive yet incomplete file, he

past three years, Quintessa’s life had been nothing short of a

escapes.

family never ceased their persecution. She had been framed, plotted against, beaten,

hunted.

on the

her darkest moments, when she was close to death, not a soul offered her warmth or a

cold indifference of strangers and relentless attacks from her own kin, she fought like a cornered animal–bloody and battered, but somehow she survived.

times, was a curse.

woman, the harder it seemed for her to live in

endured, nor could anyone