Secret
Secret 8

Chapter 8 Defending His Daughter

Recalling how Verona peed herself last night, Oona couldn’t help but smirk. “Well, well, well, look at the scaredy–cat running to tattletale alrendy!” she snickered to herself.

Just as expected, picking up the phone, Oona faintly heard muffled sobs on the other end.

It was quickly followed by the Old Lady Walsh. “Hey, you good–for–nothing tramp! Get your butt over here in the next thirty minutes! The old woman bellowed before slamming the phone down.

Since Oona’s parents brought her back home, her grandmother, Old Mrs. Walsh, couldn’t stand the sight of her. She deemed the mentally challenged Oona a total pain in the neck and had been wishing she’d be better off dead.

Oona didn’t give a damn about her yelling. She tossed the phone and went to the bathroom to freshen up before heading downstairs for breakfast.

Cleaners would spruce up Gustama Court each day and whip up some food.

Like clockwork, half an hour later, the phone from Walsh Manor rang again. This time, Oona just ignored it and walked out of Gustama Court like a boss.

From the moment Oona returned home, Old Mrs. Walsh had held a grudge against her, seeing her as a burdensome misfortune. In her eyes, the granddaughter was a bad omen who should have died long ago.

The insistent ringing from Walsh Manor wouldn’t quit. It went off over twenty times while Oona strolled along. Each time, she gave it the thumbs down

It wasn’t until close to noon that Oona finally graced Walsh Manor with her presence, strolling in at a leisurely pace.

By then, Old Mrs. Walsh was fuming, her face turning a concerning shade of purple.

The second Oona’s leisurely entrance caught her eye, Old Mrs. Walsh’s gaze turned stormy. Her voice boomed, “Get down on your knees, you good–for–nothing wretch!”

Oona met her grandmother’s gaze. Despite her silver hair, vibrant spirit, and regal bearing accentuated by emerald jewels, she now held only contempt for her.

The old woman was the matriarch of the Walsh family and, of course, respected and feared by all. Next to her sat Lauren, the family’s second daughter-in–law, and her crybaby daughter, Verona – the one who wet her pants.

Verona’s usually sparkling eyes were red and puffy from all the tears. Seeing Oona, a nasty glint flickered in them

The second Oona walked in. Lauren’s face went sour, confirming what her daughter had told her. This retard, as Verona called Oona, seemed different now.

The scaredy–cat and dumb Oona had gone. Given last time, she’d be cowering at Old Mrs. Walsh’s feet. But here she was, ignoring the anger radiating off the old woman.

Seeing Oona’s cold and intimidating demeanor, a murderous intent flickered in Lauren’s eyes.

“What’s this about” Oona’s voice was cold as she sank into a sofa, her gaze sweeping over the three women.

Old Mrs. Walsh narrowed her eyes, her sinister gaze locked on Oona. ‘So, this little brat suddenly thinks she’s smart, huh?! Well, no wonder she dared to bully Veel Obviously, her country upbringing didn’t teach her any manners!”

“I said get down on your knees right now, you little punk!” Old Mrs. Walsh repeated.

Oona glared back with eyes cold as ice. “You don’t deserve that!”

If the soldiers under her command at Fort Carnage were there, they would definitely replace the sight of Old Mrs. Walsh both entertaining and audacious. They’d likely be worried for her safety, too.

Imagine the sheer audacity! She was demanding the fearsome Grim Lord of Fort Carnage to kneel before her!

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3:57 PM D

Chapter 8 Defending His Daughter

Witnessing

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Oona’s blatant defiance, Old Mrs. Walsh roared at a servant, “Fetch my whip!”

Hearing her grandmother’s intention to whip Oona again, Verona felt relief. In fact, she wouldn’t mind if the whipping went as far as killing Oona. It would be a perfect release for her simmering anger.

Just then, the door burst open, and a figure rushed in, urgency etched on her face. She declared fiercely, “No one touches my daughter on my watch!”