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Novel Catalog
Chapter 8: The Wealthiest Heir of the Prestigious Family, Dalton Yarwood
Wynter didn’t catch a full glimpse of the man, but she didn’t need to. As a medical student, her senses were finely attuned to the faintest of details. The moment the car window lowered, she immediately caught the scent of medicinal herbs in the air. It was subtle but unmistakable.
Her knowledge of “Shaun’s Classics of Medicinal Herbs” told her everything she needed to know—people suffering from chronic illnesses could be especially sensitive to light. This man was clearly one of those people.
Vincent, noticing the shift in atmosphere, asked, “Young Master Anthony, do you want to meet the boss first?”
Anthony, distracted for a moment, glanced up at Wynter. “Miss, wait here. Don’t run off, okay? I’ll be back soon.”
Wynter nodded, and Anthony hurried toward the car. Left behind, Vincent hesitated for a moment before offering a card. “This is a token of appreciation for saving our young master. Please accept it.”
Wynter took the card, her eyes glinting with a playful light. “You know my last name is Quinnell? That means you know who I am.” She smiled, mischief dancing in her expression. “You don’t seem eager to thank me, though. It almost looks like you’re trying to distance yourself from me.”
Vincent tapped his finger against his chin, trying to remain calm. “Ms. Quinnell, you’ve misunderstood.”
Wynter shrugged, a nonchalant smile on her lips. “It doesn’t matter. Tell him I’ve left when he asks later.”
With that, she stood up from the steps, showing no intention of turning back.
Vincent let out a quiet sigh of relief. He had feared that the woman who had been kicked out by the Yates family would entangle herself with their young master.
As Wynter walked away, the fading twilight bathed her in soft, golden light. With her black bag in hand and her dark hair pinned elegantly with a wooden hairpin, she looked every bit the mystery she was. Her departure was swift and graceful, like a fleeting moment of beauty.
Inside the Maybeck car, Dalton Yarwood observed the scene from the backseat. He only caught a glimpse of Wynter’s figure, but it was enough. He turned his attention to Anthony, who was sitting beside him.
“Is that the person who saved you?” Dalton’s voice carried a hint of amusement.
“Where?” Anthony straightened up in alarm, his face falling as he noticed Wynter leaving. “Why did she leave? Vincent!” he demanded, his tone sharp.
Vincent bowed respectfully. “Young Master Anthony.”
“I didn’t even get her contact information. She promised to wait for me!” Anthony’s voice was filled with frustration. “Did you drive her away?”
Vincent stiffened at the accusation, a cold sweat forming on his brow. “Young Master Anthony…”
In Kingbourne, no one dared to provoke this particular young master. Though only four years old, Anthony was incredibly shrewd, cunning, and unflinching in his cold demeanor—except when it came to Dalton, his third brother. In his presence, Anthony would obediently follow orders, but outside of that, even their subordinates feared him.
When Anthony had behaved so affectionately with Wynter earlier, Vincent had been genuinely taken aback.
But Vincent, ever the loyal assistant, kept his composure. “Young Master Anthony, this young lady has a bad reputation. I was concerned she might have ulterior motives for approaching you, so…”
Anthony’s eyes darkened, his voice icy. “Miss doesn’t even know me. What motives could she possibly have? You didn’t take care of me properly! I fainted on the road from heatstroke. If it weren’t for her, even if I hadn’t been kidnapped by bad people, I might have died out there. You—”
“Anthony Yarwood,” Dalton interrupted, his tone firm.
Anthony immediately stopped, his mouth tightening. He could tell from Dalton’s voice that his third brother was angry. With a small sigh, Dalton lifted Anthony’s face gently. “My personal matters don’t require your concern. Understand?”
Dalton’s gaze softened, but only for a moment. As he spoke, he signaled the driver to start the car. Gradually, the rearview mirror reflected a sharp, aristocratic face, pale skin, and the unmistakable air of authority and elegance. Dalton Yarwood, the CEO of Yarwood Corporation, was indeed a man of striking appearance, complete with a string of bright red beads on his wrist that added to his enigmatic allure.
Chapter 9: Disdain from the Yates Family Towards Wynter
“Since you know the person who saved Anthony’s life, pick some gifts and send them to her,” Dalton ordered, his voice filled with quiet authority. “In a few days, I’ll bring Anthony to visit her in person.”
Vincent, drenched in cold sweat under the weight of Dalton’s gaze, quickly responded, “Yes, boss!”
It wasn’t hard for Vincent to locate Wynter. After all, she had ties to the Yates family, which would make it easier to find her. Though his plan was to send gifts, little did he know that Wynter, now distancing herself from the Yates family, wanted nothing more to do with them. Memories of the past were far too painful.
As Wynter was about to ride her bike home, a familiar voice cut through the air.
“Why are you here?”
It was her adoptive mother, Wanda Scott, whose tone was thick with disdain. She didn’t even address Wynter by name, her words dripping with contempt.
Wynter glanced over and saw a group of people nearby—her adoptive father, Ewan Yates, and the Scott family, along with Yvette Yates, the recently returned “precious” Yvette. Yvette was busy whispering to an elderly woman she was supporting, and the elderly woman looked quite pleased with her, patting Yvette’s hand gently as if she were a cherished treasure.
Wanda, clearly uncomfortable with anyone seeing Wynter, quickly blocked her path. “I’m asking you a question. Why are you here?”
Wanda’s annoyance was evident, though she tried to hide it. “Wynter, we told you yesterday that your biological parents are in the countryside. What are you doing here at Caesar Hotel with us?”
She clearly thought Wynter had been trailing them, lurking outside, waiting for them to emerge.
“If ten thousand dollars isn’t enough for you, I’ll give you more later,” Wanda said, her voice low and filled with irritation.
Wynter observed Wanda’s anxious attempts to distance herself from her, her eyes narrowing slightly. She leaned casually on her bike’s handlebars, lifting her gaze just enough to speak.
Before she could respond, an elderly woman named Hilda approached and scrutinized Wynter closely. “Who is this, Wanda? Do you know her?”
Wanda quickly answered, “She’s a distant relative. I just happened to run into her. I thought she was quite young, so I wanted to help her.”
“Mm.” Hilda nodded with approval before turning her attention to Yvette. “You’re fortunate to have such a good daughter.”
Yvette, with her large innocent eyes, lowered her gaze demurely. “My mother always taught me to help others. It’s the foundation of medicine.”
“Exactly.” Hilda gave her a warm smile, pointing to Ewan. “You are blessed to have such a good daughter.”
Ewan, considering whether or not to reveal Wynter’s identity, chose silence for the moment. After hearing Hilda’s praise, he made up his mind. “Yvette learned it well,” he said with a glance at Wynter.
Yvette was unlike the “fake” one, who didn’t know how to behave.
Ewan walked over to Wanda and whispered, “Since I’m here, head in first. You don’t need to worry about the affairs of relatives.”
Wanda’s eyes flickered toward Wynter, her sigh heavy with impatience. “You should persuade Wynter. She’s difficult,” she muttered. On the surface, Wanda seemed compassionate, but her eyes told a different story. She clearly wanted Wynter to leave quickly.
