Ynda was losing control.


    Mrs. Walker grabbed her hand, trying to soothe her. "Just a little longer, Ynda. We have to be patient. The Thompsons are at the height of their power, and Bet


    is no pushover. We can''t act rashly, or all our efforts will be for nothing."


    "Wait, wait, wait, that''s all you ever say! How long do I have to wait?" Ynda snapped, annoyed and agitated.


    "Until that little bitch Yvonne Jones gives birth. A new daughter and a dead wife—a celebration and a funeral all at once. It will be quite the event. Don''t worry, Mom has already made all the arrangements."


    Mrs. Walker held Ynda''s hand and patted it gently.


    Ynda finally calmed down after hearing this, though she still wasn''tpletely satisfied. "That little bitch should end up just like that slut Flora Moore-both of them dead, mother and child. That would be perfect."


    "Don''t be ridiculous. We leave the child for the Thompsons. If they''re busy with the little one, they won''t have time to worry about us. It makes things easier for us to act. If both of them die, the Thompsons will investigate the cause of death relentlessly, and our family can''t withstand that kind of scrutiny."


    Mrs. Walker exined with a sigh of resignation.


    Ynda said no more, reluctantly epting the n.


    "Victor, let''s head back," Mrs. Walker said to the driver in the front seat.


    The driver nodded, started the engine, and the car slowly pulled out of the hospital gates.


    When they returned to the Walker estate, they were surprised to find Vincent at home. It was a rare sight.


    Recently, the illegitimate son that April Martinez bore him had been hospitalized with pneumonia. Vincent had acted as if the sky was falling, contacting experts from home and abroad for a simple case of pneumonia. Aside from work, he''d spent almost all his time at the hospital.


    It had been difficult for Mrs. Walker and Ynda to even get a glimpse of him.


    "Where have you been?" Vincent asked casually as he saw his wife and daughter enter. He was sitting on the sofa, drinking tea.


    "You still care...?" Ynda started to retort, but Mrs. Walker stopped her.


    "We went to the hospital. Ynda wasn''t feeling well today, so I took her for a check-up," Mrs. Walker said calmly.


    "How is Ynda?" Vincent looked at Ynda, who was wearing a mask. Although her face was covered, her body was severely swollen, a clear sign that her condition was not well-managed.


    "She''s okay. Kidney disease is a chronic illness; it takes time to treat and recover from," Mrs. Walker said.


    "Make sure you take good care of Ynda. Find the best specialists. If she can''t be treated here, take her abroad," Vincent added.


    "Yes, I know," Mrs. Walker nodded with a smile, then turned to Ynda. "Ynda, let''s go upstairs. Didn''t the doctor tell you to get more rest?"


    "Oh," Ynda mumbled and hurried upstairs.


    The two of them disappeared into the bedroom. As soon as the door closed, Ynda shed her arm across the entryway cab, sending a porcin figurine flying.


    The porcin shattered instantly, sending fragments scattering across the floor.


    "Ynda, what''s with the tantrum now?" Mrs. Walker asked, startled.


    "Mom, did you see Dad? I''m this sick, and he couldn''t care less. He only has eyes for that bastard child from his mistress. Mom, you''re too soft hearted Why don''t you just get nd of that little bastard?


    Ynda was furious, her face twisted in an ugly grimace.


    "Your father''s bloodline is tainted. The child is just an infant; we can''t tell anything yet. It''s questionable whether he''ll even grow up healthy Why should 1 dirty my own hands so quickly?"


    After speaking. Mrs. Walker patted Ynda''s shoulder. "You''re still sick. The most important thing right now is for you to get well your father and Fare in the


    each same boat. If we turn on


    now and the boat


    capsizes, we''ll all go down together."