The Wife Who Jumped on New Year's Eve

Chapter 38

Joanna Taylor helped Sean Yates sit down, her face filled with concern.

Sean had pushed her away in his urgency, losing his balance and falling hard, leaving a large bruise on his arm. Yet he seemed oblivious to the pain, his anxious gaze fixed on Joanna.

"Joanna, are you hurt?"

Her heart ached with tenderness.

This fool—injured worse than I am, yet still worrying about me.

"I'm fine."

Only when he was certain she was unharmed did Sean relax.

Knock, knock.

The sound of rapping at the door startled them. Joanna opened it to find the Yates family butler standing outside.

The butler smiled politely.

"Miss Taylor, Young Master, the master has sent me to bring you home."

Mr. Yates wore a stern expression, exuding the authority of a man accustomed to power. Mrs. Yates, perhaps because of her husband's presence, refrained from her usual venomous remarks.

"Bianca," Mr. Yates said, addressing his wife, "take Joanna to buy some jewelry. Women always enjoy such things. I need to speak with our son."

Though resentment flickered in her eyes, Mrs. Yates swallowed her anger.

Sean's concerned gaze followed Joanna as she left with his mother, but she gave him a reassuring look before stepping out.

Peacock Pavilion, the largest jewelry store in the city.

Mrs. Yates strolled between the display cases, her eyes occasionally flicking toward Joanna, a faint, mocking smile playing on her lips.

"Look at these pieces," she remarked casually, though her tone dripped with disdain. "Each one is worth a fortune."

"The wife of a Yates must adhere to certain standards in her attire."

Joanna caught the underlying meaning but merely lowered her head without responding.

In the corner of the shop, a strangely dressed man stood wrapped in heavy clothing, only his eyes visible—cold and bloodthirsty.

BANG!

A gunshot rang out, shattering the lights.

Several armed thugs burst in, brandishing knives without a word.

Panic erupted as customers screamed and scrambled for safety.

Mrs. Yates paled, her legs giving way beneath her, frozen in terror.

Joanna grabbed her arm and pulled her toward a corner.

The strange man suddenly lunged forward, a blade flashing toward Mrs. Yates.

Hatred burned in his eyes.

"Your husband ruined me. Now you'll pay."

The attack happened too fast—the bodyguards, distracted by the chaos outside, were slow to react.

Only Joanna stood between the assailant and Mrs. Yates.

Thud.

The blade sank into Joanna's arm.

She gasped in pain but didn't retreat.

Enraged, the attacker raised his weapon again—but the bodyguards finally rushed in, swiftly subduing him.

Joanna's face had gone deathly pale from blood loss.

Mrs. Yates stared at her, shock and guilt warring in her eyes. She never imagined this girl—whom she had tormented at every turn—would risk her life to protect her.

"Child… are you all right?" Mrs. Yates' voice trembled as she clutched Joanna's hand.

Joanna shook her head weakly.

"I'm fine, Auntie."

The police arrived, arresting all the assailants.

Mrs. Yates recognized the strange man—he had once been a high-ranking executive in one of the Yates subsidiaries. Fired for embezzlement, he had been let off without further punishment, even given a modest severance.

But greed knew no bounds.

Having squandered his money, he blamed the Yates family and plotted this revenge.

After taking statements, the police hauled him away.

Mrs. Yates, now visibly remorseful, turned to the bodyguards.

"Careful—take Miss Taylor to the Yates private hospital."

The bodyguards exchanged glances. That hospital was reserved exclusively for the Yates family.

It seems the lady has finally been accepted.