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Chapter 59: Wynter Refutes the Scumbag
Wynter, with a nonchalant grace, picked up a wooden chair and moved it to a different spot. Sitting cross-legged, she looked the picture of sass, her posture relaxed but her eyes sharp. With a smile that was both sweet and venomous, she complained, “Where did this ugly man come from? He talks too much.”
“Ugly man?”
The words hung in the air like a sharp blade. For a moment, the entire atmosphere in the room froze.
Charlie, taken aback, stared at her, disbelief clear in his eyes. He could hardly believe what he had just heard. “W—what did you say?”
“Ugly man,” Wynter repeated with a smile that was almost too sweet. “Did you hear me? If you can’t hear well, get your ears treated.”
Charlie’s face turned a deep shade of red, and his hands clenched into fists as if he were trying to hold back his rage. “You!” he stammered, almost choking on his words.
The room buzzed with murmurs. Most were in shock, but Yvette, her hands clasped tightly in front of her, looked particularly distressed. She couldn’t believe her ears. Wynter had always adored Charlie, practically worshipped him. She had been willing to sacrifice anything for his love, so what was this sudden shift?
A deep breath escaped Yvette’s lips. Her mind raced, trying to make sense of what had just unfolded.
Charlie, unable to let this go, scoffed loudly. “Wynter, have you forgotten how you begged me to look at you?”
Wynter, without missing a beat, shrugged. “A woman in love wouldn’t be rational. But you and I both know the truth.”
At her words, someone in the crowd, unable to remain silent, shouted, “You’re the one pestering Mr. Charlie! That’s the only truth!”
Charlie’s face went pale as he heard the word “truth” echoing around the room. His heart began to race, panicking that she might expose something more. In a feigned attempt at generosity, he waved a dismissive hand.
“Forget it!” he snapped, his voice losing its edge. “You’re struggling now without the Yates. For the sake of the past, I won’t argue with you.”
With that, he turned on his heel and made his way back to his seat, putting on a façade of dignity. But it was clear—his reputation was already damaged, and there was nothing he could do to salvage it now.
At this point, Hilda, who had been eagerly watching the drama unfold, stood up, her face hardening. It was clear she was going to defend Charlie, her voice icy.
“Charlie is my junior. His talent, appearance, and knowledge are all top-notch. I wonder why you dislike him so much.”
Her words hit like a punch to the gut. Wynter had now become the enemy not just of the Shepherds, but also of the Gibsons. The room fell into an uneasy silence as everyone took sides.
The head of the Shepherds, Nelson Shepherd, sat unmoved. He didn’t offer a word to Wynter but simply took a sip of his tea. His sharp gaze flicked to his nephew, Calvert, before he motioned for him to come over.
Calvert hesitated, his eyes darting from Abel to the others. He had no choice but to retreat to the corner, caught in an awkward position.
Doctors and scholars, those without powerful family connections, could feel the tension in the air. They were beginning to believe that Wynter’s time at the seminar would be more of a punishment than a chance to shine.
Abel, noticing the shift in the atmosphere, glanced at Wynter with concern. “Miss, aren’t you afraid?”
Wynter, still cool and unbothered, chewed her gum slowly, her expression unreadable. “They’re just profit-making vendors. Nothing to be afraid of.”
“Profit-making vendors?” Abel echoed, his brow furrowing. “Do you know their status in the medical field? Wait a second… Why do your words sound so familiar?”
Wynter gave a playful pat on his head, her fingers running through his hair with a satisfied smile. “It’s nothing if you can’t remember it. Let’s get ready.”
“Get ready for what?” Xavier, still in a daze, blinked in confusion. The day’s events had come at him so fast that he hadn’t had time to process half of it.
Wynter stood up from the chair, her confidence practically radiating off her. The lights seemed to catch her in just the right way, making her look even more sassy and assured than before.
She grabbed a black bag and slung it over her shoulder, turning to face Abel and the others. “Conquer everyone. Win first place.”
“Win first place?” Xavier muttered, still trying to make sense of her sudden declaration. His mind had barely caught up with the whirlwind of events.
Abel, on the verge of speaking, stopped himself as a hearty laugh rang out from upstairs. The sound was unmistakable—full of warmth and authority. Everyone in the room turned, curious about the unexpected interruption.
