Skip to content
Novel Catalog
Chapter 74: Who Is the Yarwoods’ Turning Point
Dalton had always lived with a noble, yet tragically brief, destiny. Theo, feeling the weight of his own guilt, finally chose to let Dalton off the hook, despite the ongoing tensions with their family’s future.
Fabian, still searching for his granddaughter, seemed to have put the issue of Dalton’s marriage on hold. It would be best for the Quinnells to decide once they had found her. Theo, however, couldn’t shake the thought of how lonely his brilliant grandson had been. “I just wish someone could have accompanied you all these years, Dalton,” he muttered, a rare note of guilt in his voice.
Dalton, ever composed, interrupted him with a warm, measured smile. “Grandpa, I’ve never hated you. If the Yarwoods need someone to carry the burden, I’d rather it be me.” His words, soft but firm, cut through the air, lifting a small part of the burden Theo had been carrying.
Theo’s hands trembled slightly as he held his cane, but he said nothing, only staring at Dalton. The old man’s heart ached as he looked at his grandson—so young, yet so burdened. Everyone envied the Yarwoods for their wealth and power, but few knew the emotional toll they had paid. His grandson had quietly borne so much, and it hurt to see him suffer in silence.
Dalton, ever perceptive, understood exactly what Theo was thinking. But instead of replying, he simply leaned back in his chair, staring out toward the manor grounds, where the fading afternoon sunlight cast a golden halo around his figure. He looked like something out of another time—elegant, aristocratic, a figure born to be admired. Every movement seemed deliberate, as if he were both a part of the world and separate from it.
He thought of her—the woman who had crossed his mind so many times in the last few days. She must have received the Zenith herb by now. He knew from the subtle hints in her expressions, even through the video, that it was what she wanted. And for that, he was content. A small smile played on his lips as he imagined her reaction.
Meanwhile, Wynter had already exited the inner hall, effortlessly conversing with Abel as she discreetly sent a text message in her pocket. The message was simple: Retreat, the Yarwoods intervened!
When Wolf received the message, he was enjoying a toast on the street, taking large bites, his mouth full. The moment he got the alert, he quickly wiped out any traces of the previous network activity. No IP addresses left behind, no evidence. After finishing his toast, he stood up, grumbling to himself. “Hmph, the Yarwoods are such a pain.”
From across the yard, Margaret called out, “Wolf, come over here! What’s going on with this TV? It keeps buzzing!”
Wolf sighed and grabbed the wooden bucket before heading toward the inner courtyard. It was almost comical—the person behind the chaos in Southdale, the one who had stirred up the internet, was none other than a boy in the alley. No one would have connected the dots, especially not the ladies in the reception hall of the manor, who were too caught up in their own lives.
Outside, the conversation among the ladies had shifted to Wanda. The attention had turned to her plans for the future. “Speaking of Kingbourne, we plan to move there by the end of the year.”
Mrs. Lipsey, clearly surprised, raised an eyebrow. “Kingbourne? What about your business?”
Mrs. Jennings, always in the know, sipped her tea. “Oh, you don’t know? Mrs. Yates’ maternal family is based in Kingbourne now. They’ve got connections there.”
The others murmured in envy. Southdale might be growing, but it was still far behind the metropolis of Kingbourne.
“Business is trivial,” Wanda said, pretending modesty. “Yve is so outstanding. We can’t be a hindrance to her, so we’re thinking it’s best to move there…”
At that moment, Yvette was abruptly pulled into the room by a bodyguard, her hair disheveled, her face pale with shock. She looked as if she was about to cry, but when her eyes landed on the surrounding ladies, she quickly masked her emotions, pressing her lips into a tight smile.
“Mom…” she said softly, her voice betraying her fear. The room fell silent, all eyes now fixed on her.
Wanda stood still, her eyes narrowing as she took in her daughter’s distressed appearance. What had happened?
