Chapter 3
Sean’s face twisted into a mask of disgust, “I’m so disappointed in you; I never imagined it would come to this. I thought I’d give you a chance to intern at the company after graduation, but your greed knows no bounds. You had the audacity to embezzle funds. Who gave you such courage? Even now, with your back against the wall, you show no remorse. How did our family ever produce a black sheep like you?”
Quintessa sneered, “Disappointed? You haven’t seen true despair yet.“–
A police officer nudged Quintessa from behind, “Quit dragging your feet; let’s move.”
In the end, Quintessa left her father with meaningful words, “Dad, remember what I said. Time is running out.”
Tyrone impassively watched Quintessa being led away, her demeanor unshaken in the face of doom, a wild recklessness that cared for nothing. A monster must dwell in that
woman’s heart.
“Quintessa’s been caught! She’s been caught in an affair! She’s headed to jail!”
“Quintessa of Emberbrook, the notorious rich girl, has finally played her last hand!”
The reporters Rachel had called were ecstatic to the point of madness.
“Quintessa, the second daughter of the Young family of Emberbrook, was caught in bed with her own uncle–in–law, and that adulterer was none other than Tyrone.”
“Who’s Tyrone? There isn’t a man in all of Emberbrook handsomer or wealthier than Tyrone.”
“If this news breaks, it will dominate the headlines in a heartbeat, a juicy tale of feuds and entanglements within the halls of the wealthy.”
But the reporters‘ excitement was short–lived, cut off by the York family’s bodyguards.
The explosive story was suppressed thoroughly; by the time they emerged again, the faces of those with the scoop were ashen, their cameras, phones, video recorders, and voice recorders, all smashed to bits.
Trying to scandalize Mr. Tyrone York in Emberbrook? That was a death wish.
Tyrone slipped into the clothes his assistant had brought him, as Rachel wailed before him, “Tyrone, I know, it must have been Quintessa who seduced you. Like father, like son. Her mother was a mistress, and so is she. Just like that vile woman, that tramp, born to lure in men. My brother should’ve never brought her back, should have let her die out there. I was so good to her, and she repaid me like this. I must have been blind to not see how low and venomous she was.”
Rachel was five years older than Quintessa and bore a slight resemblance to her. As
Tyrone looked at Rachel spewing venom at Quintessa, he felt a deep revulsion. There was nothing about her he could stand anymore.
He used to think she was at least observant and obedient, and when she lied to others, claiming to be his fiancée, he couldn’t be bothered to correct her. It saved him the trouble, after all.
But now, he saw her for what she was: as foolish was she, she still pretended to be clever. Another glance would just sully his eyes.
Tyrone’s hand shot out gripping Rachel’s chin, “I don’t make a habit of hitting women, but don’t play smart with me. You’re nothing compared to your niece.”
Rachel gasped, “Tyrone.”
“Get lost
Despite her unwillingness, Rachel dared not anger Tyrone. She had schemed hard to become Tyrone’s fiancée, a status she had reached with great difficulty. She could not let Quintessa ruin everything she had worked for