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?”

Quintessa was

part of him

He

help but

there

The following mongst

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.

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

been nothing short of a harrowing series

escapes.

persecution. She had been framed, plotted against, beaten,

hunted.

the streets, starving and

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

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

at times, was

the woman, the harder it seemed for her

nor could anyone fathom the depths of

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