Rebirth Of The Forgotten Heiress - Chapter 35: Chapter 35
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Quinlyn stared at Zachary, her expression caught between confusion and suspicion. After a moment, she spoke. "What do you want?"
Zachary shifted uncomfortably, his lips pressing into a tight line. "Staying in some random guy's room that long isn't proper. And since we still haven't settled things between us, maybe you should learn when to draw the line—unless you enjoy being made a fool of."
Quinlyn's eyes widened. "What are you talking about?"
Before Zachary could repeat himself, she raised a hand to stop him. "Wait." She took a step back, studying him with a furrowed brow, trying to make sense of his words.
Zachary shook his head, as if frustrated she didn't see it. "Your family and my grandpa asked me to watch out for you.
"This guy comes out of nowhere, and suddenly you're spending all your time with him. Think about it. You're just a kid. He's older. You really think he's got good intentions?"
The more he spoke, the heavier his tone grew, like he was trying to convince himself as much as her.
To Zachary, Quinlyn was barely eighteen and way too naive, but Yasin seemed like he'd seen too much. Zachary didn't trust him one bit.
He took a step back and turned to leave. "Anyway, I—"
But before he could take another step, Quinlyn's sharp voice cut through the air behind him. "Sorry, but it's too late now."
When he hesitated at her words, Quinlyn pressed on. "Look, whatever was supposed to happen between us already did."
Zachary went completely still, as if absorbing—or resisting—what she'd just said.
She tilted her head, voice casual. "And honestly, girls these days are into older guys. Even if he were ten years older, I wouldn't care."
Zachary turned his head, surprise flashing in his eyes, but it quickly twisted into disgust.
Quinlyn understood his type—a man obsessed with order, with perfection. Naturally, Yalena fit that ideal, while she represented everything he loathed—all rough edges and working-class resilience.
For a moment, Quinlyn thought tonight's chaos might have unsettled him. But the way his eyes darkened when they met hers told her that familiar disapproval had snapped back into place.
"You..." Zachary's face darkened. "How can you be so—"
"Shameless? Disgraceful? Or is there some other creative term you'd like to use?" A practiced smile curved Quinlyn's lips, the kind that might fool someone at a distance. But her eyes remained cold, the calculated amusement never reaching them. "Well, my dear brother-in-law?"
Quinlyn's words struck Zachary like a physical blow. He stood motionless for a long moment before forcing out the words, "I never meant to put it that way."
Quinlyn gave a tight nod, her expression turning stony. "Of course you wouldn't say those words now," she replied, knowing perfectly well he'd eventually blurt it out without thinking.
Old memories surfaced, casting a shadow over her mood. She wasn't in the right headspace for this, and Zachary's presence only amplified her darker thoughts.
Some TV show line floated through her mind, perfectly capturing her current state—she just wanted to be decent and not let unworthy people drag her down.
Her hand found the doorknob again. "You should go now," she said, noticing Yalena standing a short distance away. "She's waiting for you."
Zachary turned to see Yalena, her face as pale as chalk, her eyes brimming with wounded tears.
Protectiveness flared in Zachary's chest. He hesitated, his gaze lingering on Quinlyn's small, fragile form beside him, and then quickly moved to Yalena's side.
Quinlyn stood unmoving, not even bothering to roll her eyes or crack a smile. She'd been in excellent spirits—nearly perfect—until Zachary's words soured her mood.
It wasn't crushing, just enough to dredge up old memories she'd rather forget.
Back in her room after washing up, Quinlyn collapsed onto the bed with a muttered curse. "Damn! I should've punched him when I had the chance. At least a good brawl would've left me feeling satisfied."
With grim determination, she started planning her payback. Next time their paths crossed, she'd give him banana peels and watch his precious composure slip then.
The night grew still around them, the rest of the household lost in undisturbed sleep.
Behind one glowing window, Yalena and Zachary were having their first serious argument.
They were both too well-bred for shouting matches. Zachary in particular was fighting to maintain his usual composure. His words came out carefully measured, though the tension in his jaw betrayed his frustration as he tried to lay out his position.
Yalena, however, was falling apart. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying, her delicate sobs coming in ragged bursts like a wounded kitten. Each whimper only made Zachary's expression grow stormier.
Zachary's blood boiled beneath his skin. He tugged at his collar, feeling it constrict around his throat as his thoughts seesawed between visions of a vibrant red dress and something stark and lifeless.
Eventually, he surrendered. Holding Yalena as she cried uncontrollably, he kept soothing her with quiet words, explaining that he just needed to get clothes from Quinlyn for the night.
Yalena answered with a vague murmur, her downcast eyes doing all the talking. Those trembling lashes said more than words ever could.
Quinlyn had already fallen asleep. But before morning came, a loud banging on the door woke her up.
Quinlyn frowned as she woke. She could tell this was just the start of more trouble. By the time Quinlyn opened her door, she knew she was right.
The whole house had gathered in the hallway. Rita stood at the center, her voice rising in panic. "Yalena ran off and Zachary went after her. They've been gone for hours."
Quinlyn nodded, trying to look worried before letting out a big yawn. "Sounds serious. So why are you all still here?"
Rita lost her temper. She grabbed Quinlyn's arm. "This is your fault. Last night after talking to me, Yalena said she was going to see you about clothes. Then she just vanished!"
Quinlyn despised waking up to unnecessary drama. She might begin with courtesy, but those who mistook her politeness for weakness would soon regret it.
Her eyes sharpened as she seized Rita's hand and gave it a brutal twist. A swift kick followed before anyone could blink. In an instant, Rita lay writhing on the floor, howling while cradling her injured wrist.
"Apparently I can handle two grown adults without breaking a sweat," Quinlyn remarked dryly. "Starting trouble at this hour? Go find them if you care."
Whether it was Quinlyn's dangerous glare or Rita's sudden defeat that did it, the group hesitated for just a moment before scattering in panic.
When the commotion ended, Quinlyn yawned heavily.
Unexpectedly, Xavier doubled back and positioned himself in her doorway.
"I'm tired and need rest," she warned. "Test me, and you'll regret it."
Zachary shifted uncomfortably, his lips pressing into a tight line. "Staying in some random guy's room that long isn't proper. And since we still haven't settled things between us, maybe you should learn when to draw the line—unless you enjoy being made a fool of."
Quinlyn's eyes widened. "What are you talking about?"
Before Zachary could repeat himself, she raised a hand to stop him. "Wait." She took a step back, studying him with a furrowed brow, trying to make sense of his words.
Zachary shook his head, as if frustrated she didn't see it. "Your family and my grandpa asked me to watch out for you.
"This guy comes out of nowhere, and suddenly you're spending all your time with him. Think about it. You're just a kid. He's older. You really think he's got good intentions?"
The more he spoke, the heavier his tone grew, like he was trying to convince himself as much as her.
To Zachary, Quinlyn was barely eighteen and way too naive, but Yasin seemed like he'd seen too much. Zachary didn't trust him one bit.
He took a step back and turned to leave. "Anyway, I—"
But before he could take another step, Quinlyn's sharp voice cut through the air behind him. "Sorry, but it's too late now."
When he hesitated at her words, Quinlyn pressed on. "Look, whatever was supposed to happen between us already did."
Zachary went completely still, as if absorbing—or resisting—what she'd just said.
She tilted her head, voice casual. "And honestly, girls these days are into older guys. Even if he were ten years older, I wouldn't care."
Zachary turned his head, surprise flashing in his eyes, but it quickly twisted into disgust.
Quinlyn understood his type—a man obsessed with order, with perfection. Naturally, Yalena fit that ideal, while she represented everything he loathed—all rough edges and working-class resilience.
For a moment, Quinlyn thought tonight's chaos might have unsettled him. But the way his eyes darkened when they met hers told her that familiar disapproval had snapped back into place.
"You..." Zachary's face darkened. "How can you be so—"
"Shameless? Disgraceful? Or is there some other creative term you'd like to use?" A practiced smile curved Quinlyn's lips, the kind that might fool someone at a distance. But her eyes remained cold, the calculated amusement never reaching them. "Well, my dear brother-in-law?"
Quinlyn's words struck Zachary like a physical blow. He stood motionless for a long moment before forcing out the words, "I never meant to put it that way."
Quinlyn gave a tight nod, her expression turning stony. "Of course you wouldn't say those words now," she replied, knowing perfectly well he'd eventually blurt it out without thinking.
Old memories surfaced, casting a shadow over her mood. She wasn't in the right headspace for this, and Zachary's presence only amplified her darker thoughts.
Some TV show line floated through her mind, perfectly capturing her current state—she just wanted to be decent and not let unworthy people drag her down.
Her hand found the doorknob again. "You should go now," she said, noticing Yalena standing a short distance away. "She's waiting for you."
Zachary turned to see Yalena, her face as pale as chalk, her eyes brimming with wounded tears.
Protectiveness flared in Zachary's chest. He hesitated, his gaze lingering on Quinlyn's small, fragile form beside him, and then quickly moved to Yalena's side.
Quinlyn stood unmoving, not even bothering to roll her eyes or crack a smile. She'd been in excellent spirits—nearly perfect—until Zachary's words soured her mood.
It wasn't crushing, just enough to dredge up old memories she'd rather forget.
Back in her room after washing up, Quinlyn collapsed onto the bed with a muttered curse. "Damn! I should've punched him when I had the chance. At least a good brawl would've left me feeling satisfied."
With grim determination, she started planning her payback. Next time their paths crossed, she'd give him banana peels and watch his precious composure slip then.
The night grew still around them, the rest of the household lost in undisturbed sleep.
Behind one glowing window, Yalena and Zachary were having their first serious argument.
They were both too well-bred for shouting matches. Zachary in particular was fighting to maintain his usual composure. His words came out carefully measured, though the tension in his jaw betrayed his frustration as he tried to lay out his position.
Yalena, however, was falling apart. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying, her delicate sobs coming in ragged bursts like a wounded kitten. Each whimper only made Zachary's expression grow stormier.
Zachary's blood boiled beneath his skin. He tugged at his collar, feeling it constrict around his throat as his thoughts seesawed between visions of a vibrant red dress and something stark and lifeless.
Eventually, he surrendered. Holding Yalena as she cried uncontrollably, he kept soothing her with quiet words, explaining that he just needed to get clothes from Quinlyn for the night.
Yalena answered with a vague murmur, her downcast eyes doing all the talking. Those trembling lashes said more than words ever could.
Quinlyn had already fallen asleep. But before morning came, a loud banging on the door woke her up.
Quinlyn frowned as she woke. She could tell this was just the start of more trouble. By the time Quinlyn opened her door, she knew she was right.
The whole house had gathered in the hallway. Rita stood at the center, her voice rising in panic. "Yalena ran off and Zachary went after her. They've been gone for hours."
Quinlyn nodded, trying to look worried before letting out a big yawn. "Sounds serious. So why are you all still here?"
Rita lost her temper. She grabbed Quinlyn's arm. "This is your fault. Last night after talking to me, Yalena said she was going to see you about clothes. Then she just vanished!"
Quinlyn despised waking up to unnecessary drama. She might begin with courtesy, but those who mistook her politeness for weakness would soon regret it.
Her eyes sharpened as she seized Rita's hand and gave it a brutal twist. A swift kick followed before anyone could blink. In an instant, Rita lay writhing on the floor, howling while cradling her injured wrist.
"Apparently I can handle two grown adults without breaking a sweat," Quinlyn remarked dryly. "Starting trouble at this hour? Go find them if you care."
Whether it was Quinlyn's dangerous glare or Rita's sudden defeat that did it, the group hesitated for just a moment before scattering in panic.
When the commotion ended, Quinlyn yawned heavily.
Unexpectedly, Xavier doubled back and positioned himself in her doorway.
"I'm tired and need rest," she warned. "Test me, and you'll regret it."
End of Rebirth Of The Forgotten Heiress Chapter 35. Continue reading Chapter 36 or return to Rebirth Of The Forgotten Heiress book page.