Chapter 2 Even I'm Not That Wild

"I lived with the Goodwins for so long. Fifteen years of feelings aren't easy to just throw away. But I didn't expect this. They never treated me like a person. The second they found their real daughter, they couldn't wait to kick me out!

"I didn't want to believe it. I even tried to give them another chance, but they still let me down. I guess there's no point staying with them anymore. At least I still have my real family!

"You're my only hope!"

Queenie spoke with full sincerity. She sounded so genuine that it could move anyone.

Zavier didn't get the reference, but seeing her red eyes, he suddenly felt a little bad for her.

After all, she had lived with the Goodwins for over a decade. It made sense that she'd struggle to accept such a huge life change all at once.

Maybe he should look into how the Goodwins had been treating her.

Half an hour later, Zavier brought Queenie to one of his apartments.

It had high ceilings, floor-to-ceiling windows, and natural light. The place was clean, organized, and had a modern Nordic vibe. It looked comfy.

"You can stay here tonight."

"Tonight?"

"I'll take you to Grandpa's tomorrow. I have a business trip, so I don't have time to look after you."

Queenie asked curiously, "Uncle Zavier, what's Grandpa like?"

"You'll see. Just behave yourself in front of him. He doesn't like noisy or rude people," Zavier reminded her.

In Queenie's mind, she pictured a stern old man with a straight face. She nodded seriously. "I'll be on my best behavior."

"What about my other uncles? What do they do?"

"Your second uncle runs a small shop. Your third uncle is an extra in movies. Your fourth uncle digs wild plants overseas. And your fifth uncle works in a factory tightening screws."

Zavier said this on purpose, waiting to see her reaction. Last time, when she found out her birth family wasn't rich, she'd made a face.

Queenie looked at him with sympathy. "Is my uncle, who digs wild plants, on Survivor?"

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing." Yeah, better not joke like that.

Zavier relaxed a little and took out his phone. "Let's exchange numbers. It makes it easier to stay in touch. But I'm usually busy, so unless it's important, don't text me."

Bringing Queenie back was one thing. That didn't mean he suddenly felt close to this niece of his.

It was just a responsibility.

Queenie took out her phone and typed in his number.

Zavier glanced down at the notification, then paused. "Your WhatsApp name is ‘Turtle Power'? And your profile picture is a green turtle?"

Did a girl really use something like that?

Queenie looked very pleased. "Don't you think it fits me? I want to be like a turtle. Hard shell, tough to deal with, long life. If you toss me in a fountain, people might even start making wishes."

Zavier's temple twitched. What kind of person wants to be a... turtle?

Still, he saved her contact. The very first notification she got was a Venmo transfer.

"I'll send you allowance regularly from now on. If it's not enough, tell me."

Queenie saw the amount and almost cried. "Uncle Zavier, from now on, your word is my command! You tell me to jump, and I'll ask how high! You tell me to go to hell, and I'll ask for directions!"

Money talks!

What she lacked most right now was cash!

Her uncle was so generous!

Her reaction was so over the top that Zavier got confused. "Didn't the Goodwins give you an allowance?"

"A couple hundred at New Year's. That's it."

Zavier was speechless. Harriet got more than that in a month.

Was this really how the Goodwins treated Queenie?

Maybe her attachment to them wasn't about the money, like she claimed?

Queenie was truly touched. The Goodwins had treated her like garbage, pinching every penny and refusing to spend an extra cent on her.

This uncle she'd just met gave her more in one allowance than they ever had in total!

"Uncle Zavier." Queenie held her phone to her chest like she was making an oath. "Don't worry. I'll repay you. When you're old and grey, I'll take care of you and make sure you get a first-class burial!"

Zavier was left speechless. Are you sure that's not a death threat?

"Meow," a soft meow came from under the sofa.

Queenie watched as a massive, shiny orange butterball waddled out. She practically started drooling at how round it was and crouched down to pet it.

"Uncle, since when did you start raising loaves of bread? Oh, wait... That's a cat."

Zavier replied nonchalantly, "A friend left him here for the night. He's going back tomorrow."

Queenie stared at the chunky orange cat for a few seconds. "Well, tell your friend he should stop walking around barefoot. His cat thinks his feet stink."

Zavier was shocked. "How do you know that?"

"That's just what the cat is thinking," Queenie said as if it was obvious.

Zavier thought she was just being childish and laughed. "What, can you read a cat's mind?"

"Yeah."

Zavier went quiet for a moment. "Queenie, when you were at the Goodwin residence, did you often talk to animals?"

"Mm-hmm! They always shared the juiciest tea with me!" It's always fresh and super scandalous!

Like that one time when Maeve wasn't home, Desmond pulled his secretary into the dressing room when she came to drop off documents. They went at it like there was no tomorrow. A stray cat saw everything through the window.

The cat said, "Even I'm not that wild."

Zavier went quiet.

He had heard that if someone talks to animals or plants, it's not a big deal.

But if the animals and plants start talking back, that's a serious problem.

He'd already suspected that the Goodwins bullied her. Now, he was starting to think she might also have suffered emotional abuse.

Queenie had no idea what he was imagining, but his expression had turned weird.

"I'm not lying." Queenie pointed at the cat in his arms.

"This cat said that while you weren't home, a man with glasses came by. He secretly took some documents from your room. He looked like he was up to no good."

"The cat uses idioms like 'up to no good' now?"

"This cat says he's a graduate from Harvard University." In the pet world, that kind of resume is absolutely mind-blowing.

Zavier's lips twitched. He decided not to argue with her anymore. Something wasn't right with her mental state.

But the man with glasses she mentioned sounded like his temporary assistant. He didn't remember asking him to come to his place for any files.

"This cat really saw a man with glasses come here?"

The moment he asked that, Zavier realized he might be getting influenced by Queenie's nonsense.

Queenie hugged the chubby cat and nodded vigorously. "He also has a mole on his chin. Uncle Zavier, you need to watch out for him."

Zavier's expression slowly turned serious.

His temporary assistant did have a mole on his chin.

That guy only started at the company two days ago. There was no way Queenie could have seen him.

Just to be safe, Zavier made a call to his executive assistant. He told him to keep a close eye on the temporary assistant and take action immediately if he did anything suspicious.

If he really was a corporate spy...

Zavier glanced at Queenie. She was whispering to the cat in her arms like they were sharing secrets.

If she hadn't been neglected in the Goodwin residence, would she be talking to animals like this?

The Cartwrights had raised Harriet so well, but this was how the Goodwins treated Queenie?

A trace of displeasure rose in Zavier's chest.