The Invisible Daughter (Yunice Saunders) novel Chapter 670

Chapter 670 Slap for Slap

Yunice sneered in defiance. “How soon is ‘sooner OF later‘? Will you even be alive to see it?

“You!” The old woman clenched her fists, her voice dripping with venom. “Are you cursing me to dien

“Shane! Slap her mouth!”

Clearly, the old hag was used to being the tyrant at home–anyone who disobeyed her got slapped.

“Yes, Mother.” Shane rolled up his sleeves and stepped toward Yunice.

He had a routine for hitting people–grab the collar first, make sure the target couldn’t dodge. Then raise the other hand high, ready to strike with full force.

One slap like that could damn near deafen someone.

Yunice was tall but slender, without much weight. Shane casily seized her collar and raised his hand high.

Smack! A sharp, ringing slap!

Madam Mary sipped her tea with satisfaction as the sound echoed. But something was off–she hadn’t heard the girl cry out in pain.

Did Shane knock her out cold with one hit?

Madam Mary looked up–and nearly leapt out of her wheelchair.

“Sh–Shane, you’re bleeding from the nose… What’s that on your face?!”

Then it hit her. Furious, she shouted, “You little brat! You hit my child?!”

Shane was stunned too, trying to piece together what just happened.

When he’d grabbed Yunice’s collar, she hadn’t resisted at all. She’d looked like a scared little chick, totally frozen.

So he’d let his guard down. That’s when Yunice, taking advantage of the close distance, slapped him square across the face, cutting off his strike mid–swing.

That slap pissed him off. As he reeled back, he swung again.

But Yunice was faster–she hit his other cheek before his hand even came down.

Her hands were small, but her strikes were fast and fierce, sharp like a baby’s surprise jab–impossible to defend against.

And she didn’t aim for humiliation–she went for the kill, slapping straight across his ear.

The force of the strike rattled his eardrum, sending pain straight to the bone.

His raised arm faltered. He bent over, clutching his ear in agony.

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Then Yunice kicked him below the belt–every move ruthless and final, with zero thought for the aftermath.

Shane collapsed to the ground, face twisted in pain, completely incapable of fighting back.

The old hag shrieked like a banshee. “You little devil! You’ve gone rabid! You’re nothing but a wild bitche Yunice shot back, “What, you can’t stand the sight of me? Then get up and do something about it.

Oh wait, you can’t get up, can you? A cursed old hag like you doesn’t deserve a healthy body.

And don’t you dare ‘you, you, you‘ me. Let’s get one thing straight–you’re not my mother–in–law. Don’t think you can play the elder card just because of Wyatt.

To me, you’re just a decrepit hag. If I don’t like you, I’ll slap you, and what the hell are you gonna do about it?”

“You wouldn’t dare!” Madam Mary’s voice cracked from rage.

But before she even finished the sentence, Yunice was already in front of her.

She lightly patted Madam Mary’s cheek–then, while the old woman was still stunned, delivered a solid slap across her face.

“So what if I did?” Yunice said coolly.

Madam Mary stared, wide–eyed. More than pain, she was overwhelmed by shock.

“This your first slap in life?” Yunice said. “You should be honored. I don’t hit just anyone.”

She didn’t see Madam Mary as a threat. Just another old bag, no matter how vicious.

Everyone assumed Yunice was fragile, some delicate wife whose wrist could snap in one grab.

But no one remembered–she came out of a mental asylum. Her reflexes were forged in real combat.

Do lunatics hold back in a fight?

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