Rebirth Of The Forgotten Heiress - Chapter 65: Chapter 65

Seeing Yasin about to walk away, Quinlyn quickly grabbed his sleeve. "What did you talk to Chancey about?"
Yasin looked down at her, a rare, playful smile on his face. "That's a secret, I can't tell you," He teased, deliberately drawing out the last word in a playful tone.
Quinlyn had no patience for his antics and stubbornly kept hold of his sleeve, refusing to let go.
He reminded her, "Hey, kid, you'll be late for class."
"Tell me, and I'll go." Quinlyn had a vague suspicion, but she thought it was unlikely. After all, Yasin hadn't really had a chance to talk to Chancey this morning. Even if there was, they couldn't become best buds in that split second.
Yasin's smile faded slightly. He said, "Then I can't promise what I say will be true or not."
Quinlyn was speechless.
He could read her like an open book. Her face gave everything away at a glance. Yasin dropped the playful act and asked, "So, what do you think Chancey and I would discuss?"
Quinlyn's fingers clung to his shirt hem. At his words, she unconsciously tightened her grip, wrinkling the neatly pressed fabric into messy folds. "If it's about my business, there's no need."
Yasin nodded. "Then tell me, what would be worth discussing with him?"
Quinlyn fell silent.
"If you don't want to face it, I won't bring it up in front of you. Just relax and go to class. Our little deal still depends on you getting good grades. Otherwise, we'll have to keep secrets to ourselves."
Quinlyn sighed and said, "Honestly, there's really no need. I've already handled it, and my way serves its purpose. You..." Her words trailed off, unsure how to continue.
If her suspicions were true, Yasin would definitely find out everything that happened last night. She really didn't want Yasin to see it.
Quinlyn thought, 'There's no need to drag all those ugly truths into the open between us. Keeping things balanced is fine. I can handle everything myself. And it's all under control.'
Yasin smirked. "Quinlyn."
She blinked in confusion, letting out a soft "Huh?"
"Are you an idiot?" Yasin teased.
Quinlyn was taken aback.
Yasin reached out and ruffled her hair in a rough, impatient way. "There, there, I won't do anything. Go on, get to class. I checked your grades last night. Not great, huh." He tsk-tsked twice, then smirked and finally said, teasingly, "Slacker."
Quinlyn thought, 'Great, not just name-calling. Now he's outright insulting me.'
After watching Quinlyn drive off in Timothy's car, Yasin turned and walked to the other side, where a man in all black had been waiting for quite some time. When Yasin got in the car, the man greeted him.
Yasin gave an address and shut his eyes.
The man drove in silence, occasionally stealing glances at Yasin in the rearview mirror. He couldn't help but notice Yasin was in an unusually foul mood today, as if shrouded in a dark cloud of gloom.
Upon arrival, Timothy called Yasin to report that Quinlyn had been safely escorted inside.
Yasin grunted, "Timothy."
Timothy replied with a casual "Huh?", still oblivious to the danger brewing.
"Go take your punishment. Don't come back until a week later."
"What?" Timothy gasped, completely stunned. "Sir!" Timothy cried out in shock. He had no idea what he had done wrong.
Yasin cut him off. "Two weeks."
Timothy didn't dare say another word and could only reply meekly, "Understood. Thank you, sir." He could foresee that he'd be severely punished. But he couldn't help but wonder what he had done wrong.
Timothy was no fool. Otherwise, he wouldn't have lasted as Yasin's right-hand man. After half an hour of racking his brain, it finally clicked. He thought to himself, 'Serves you right for being so clueless.'
After hanging up, Yasin strode straight into the meeting spot. He wasn't exactly thrilled about this meeting. He'd already told Chancey to just mail it. He wanted to avoid meeting the Guzmans because they just didn't agree with him.
Neither Yasin nor Chancey didn't cared much about where they met. After all, they couldn't stand each other. The food didn't matter; all that counted was the place being discreet enough.
When Yasin arrived, Chancey was already seated inside. Shortly after, a waiter entered carrying an elaborate coffee set and began preparing the coffee with practiced, elegant motions.
"Alright, leave," Yasin said with a frown. "Just bring me a glass of plain water." Easy to drink, easier to throw in someone's face.
The waiter remained expressionless, bowed respectfully as he withdrew, soon returned with a pot of plain water, and then left with the same quiet respect.
Having just eaten something spicy and nursing a bellyful of pent-up anger, Yasin unceremoniously downed half a pot of cold boiled water in big gulps before straightening up. "Hand it over. And you can go." He refused to waste a single syllable on Chancey.
Chancey had been frowning ever since Yasin started gulping down water like a beast. To him, a well-bred, rich heir, such behavior was utterly uncouth and inappropriate. "I'm afraid I can't give it to you. This concerns Quinlyn's privacy."
Hearing this, Yasin smirked playfully, toying with the unfilled coffee set. "Privacy? So she does have privacy in your family after all, huh?"
Chancey's expression turned frosty. "Mr. James, this is our family matter. As an outsider, you don't understand the full context, so I'd advise against jumping to conclusions."
After saying that, he continued in a measured tone, "But actually, the reason I came today is that there's something I'd like to discuss with you, Mr. James.
"I believe Quinlyn has some psychological issues. She harbors hostility toward us, but she trusts you more than anyone else. I was hoping you could take her to see a psychologist. I'll cover all the expenses, and you'll be compensated for your trouble."
This was the conclusion Chancey came to after mulling it over all morning. He thought Quinlyn's behavior was far too extreme and obsessive.
But he had no intention of simply letting the Chappell family matter slide. He remained convinced that Quinlyn had developed certain psychological issues, likely a result of her twisted upbringing in that household.
Chancey thought if only she could be a bit gentler, their whole family could finally live in harmony.
Yasin frowned. He understood every single word, but strung together like this, he genuinely couldn't make sense of it. He knew very well what had happened to the Guzman family.
He leaned back into the plush cushion, pondering for a moment before saying, "Tell you what, I've got a little suggestion of my own. I wonder if you'd care to hear it."
Chancey gave a slight nod.
Yasin stretched out lazily, legs crossed, a hint of sharpness beneath his nonchalance. With a faint smirk, he said, "Tell you what. I'll pay for every single member of the Chancey family to get a thorough psychiatric evaluation. Don't worry, it's on me."
He finished with a smile, though his eyes remained razor-sharp like twin blades that could cut right through Chancey. "How does that sound, Mr. Guzman?"