Chapter 15
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Before Winifred could make out the man’s face, the scent of sandalwood hit her. Then a warm, concerned voice asked, “You all right?”
Winifred instinctively pulled back from his embrace. “I’m good, Yuri.”
Yuri was Gregory’s cousin. Years back, a feud tore through the Hoffman family. Gregory’s parents died in the chaos, and Yuri lost his left leg–now he uses a prosthetic. Joseph blamed Yuri’s father for the mess and banished him for life.
Joseph might still call Yuri his grandson, but the Hoffmans didn’t treat him like family anymore. These years, he had been living in a church practicing mortification, claiming he was atoning for his father’s sins.
At the sight of Yuri, Gregory stopped brawling with Truman. He shot his cousin an icy glare, then snapped at Winifred, “You bringing trash to Grandpa’s doorstep now? He’s been disowned.”
“I know exactly where Joseph stands,” Winifred retorted coolly.
Gregory saw red. Everyone with half a brain knew he and Yuri were oil and water. Yet here was Winifred, standing up for Yuri.
“Don’t push your luck, Winifred,” Gregory warned, his voice low and dangerous.
Winifred didn’t even glance his way. Turning to Yuri with a small smile, she asked, “You’re here for Joseph?”
Yuri gave a slight nod. “Yeah. Heard he wasn’t doing great. I missed his birthday, so I thought I’d swing by the hospital and check in on him.”
He paused, then pulled a simple gift box from his coat pocket. “This is for your birthday.”
Winifred blinked in surprise. “Thanks, but my birthday already passed.”
She’d never told the Hoffmans her birth date, and Yuri was no exception. Last year, after celebrating Joseph’s birthday, she’d bought a tiny cake from a street bakery–a quiet treat for herself. Yuri caught her and became the only one who knew she shared a birthday with Joseph.
Back then, she’d made him promise not to tell the Hoffmans. She’d been afraid Gregory would get upset. Looking back now, all that bending over backward for nothing–what’a joke.
“Consider this a belated gift,” Yuri said, opening the box to reveal a rosary bracelet. “I carved this myself–hope it brings you peace and good luck.”
“You’re too sweet, Yuri,” Winifred murmured. She could tell he’d put real care into the bracelet–how could she refuse? She took it, about to slip it
- on.
Just then, Gregory wrenched it from her fingers and smashed it against the floor. Beads scattered like shrapnel, skittering across the tiles.
“You’d really wear his trash? Gregory’s voice was lethally quiet, his sculpted features frozen in fury as he drilled his eyes into her.
‘She swore no one in the Hoffman family knew her birthday. Humph, like I care: But–but how the hell does Yuri know when even Grandpa doesn’t?
‘He even made her a hand–carved gift. So they’ve been sneaking around behind my back? Winifred’s betraying me all along‘ Gregory thought. Rage surged through him, threatening to explode.
Winifred stared at the beads rolling in every direction–impossible to gather them all now. “Gregory, enough is enough!” she snapped, realizing his behavior had crossed into pure irrationality.
“It’s just a bracelet, Gregory. No need to flip out,” Yuri said flatly.
Gregory’s gaze sliced into him. “You’re supposed to practice mortification in that church, not playing craftsman for her. I doubt you’ll ever atone for your sins.”
His words were beyond the pale. Yuri met his gaze, the two of them locked in silence as an unspoken tension crackled in the air.
