What died was mercy

Chapter 5: The Fiancée’s Shadow

The mansion felt different the next morning—less like a refuge and more like a gilded cage. Mia had spent the night thinking, plotting, but no matter how hard she tried, the questions gnawed at her mind. What was Loren really hiding? Why was he so adamant about keeping his distance from her?

Mia’s thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock on her door. Elia’s face appeared in the c***k, her usual warm smile gone, replaced with a slightly nervous expression.

“Miss Mack, someone is waiting for you downstairs,” Elia said, almost whispering as if afraid to disturb the atmosphere.

Mia raised an eyebrow. "Who is it?"

"It's... Miss Hart." Elia looked uncertain, but she didn't press the matter. "She’s here to speak with you."

Mia’s chest tightened. Calla Hart?

"Thank you, Elia," Mia said, already rising to her feet. It was time to face the woman who was supposed to be Loren’s fiancée. The woman who, until now, was nothing more than a name to her.

Elia led Mia through the winding corridors of the mansion, her pace quick and efficient. When they reached the grand sitting room, Mia’s gaze immediately fell on the woman sitting on the velvet chair, one leg crossed over the other with poised elegance. Her dress was silk, fitting perfectly to her form, and her dark, glossy hair framed a face that could have been plucked from a high-society portrait.

Calla Hart.

She stood when Mia entered, her eyes scanning Mia with an almost cold curiosity. There was a coolness in the air, a tension that didn’t need to be spoken.

“Miss Mack,” Calla said, her voice smooth but with a sharp edge. “I’m sure you’ve heard my name before.”

“I have,” Mia replied, her tone neutral. “I didn’t realize we were expected to meet.”

“Oh, we weren’t,” Calla said, her lips curving into a slight, knowing smile. “But with the engagement being so sudden, I thought it would be appropriate to introduce myself. After all, we’ll be family soon.”

Mia kept her composure, despite the stirrings of unease in her chest. Family. The word felt like a sharp jab.

She took a seat opposite Calla. “I didn’t know Loren had mentioned me to you.”

Calla’s eyes flickered with something unreadable. “Oh, he has,” she said, the words laced with a touch of venom. “I know all about you, Miss Mack. And I know what you’re really after.”

Mia didn’t flinch. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“You’re not here because of gratitude. You’re not even here because you care for Mr. Beck.” Calla’s eyes narrowed slightly, voice lowering as she leaned in just a little. “You’re here for power.”

Mia couldn’t deny it. The truth was, she had nothing left to lose and everything to gain by playing her cards right. Power was the only thing that could get her revenge against the people who had destroyed her. The people who had taken everything from her.

“I don’t deny it,” Mia said, her voice calm. “Power is necessary. But not just for me. For anyone who’s been underestimated.”

Calla let out a soft laugh, as if she found Mia’s response amusing, but there was no humour in it. “You think you can play this game better than me?” Her eyes glinted, the challenge in her words unmistakable.

Mia straightened, her chin lifted. “I don’t play games. I win them.”

Calla’s smile faltered for a moment before it returned, but now, it was tighter. “We’ll see.”

Before Mia could respond, the door opened, and Elia entered with a tray of tea, setting it down between them without a word. The silence that followed felt loaded, but Calla broke it almost immediately.

“I understand Loren is quite a hard man to understand,” she said, her voice softer now, as if trying to get under Mia’s skin. “He’s already got someone in his heart, you know. Someone who is his equal. Someone who understands him, not just his legacy.”

Mia’s heart skipped a beat. Someone in his heart?

But she didn’t let her confusion show. “I didn’t come here to talk about Loren,” Mia replied. “I came to speak with you.”

Calla tilted her head, intrigued. “What about?”

Mia paused. The words she needed to say felt thick on her tongue. “I’m not here to steal your life, Calla. I don’t want what you have. What I want is my revenge. And if marrying Loren is what it takes to get close to those who betrayed me, then so be it.”

Calla’s expression didn’t change, but there was a flicker of something—perhaps fear, perhaps realization—that passed through her eyes.

“You think Loren will be your pawn?” Calla asked, her voice cutting through the tension. “He’s not that easily controlled.”

Mia leaned forward, locking eyes with Calla. “You don’t know him as well as you think you do. He’s not mine to control. He’s not mine at all.”

She stood, leaving the last word hanging in the air like a final shot fired across a battlefield.

Calla watched her as she walked away, but Mia didn’t look back.

As Mia made her way back to her room, she found herself thinking about Loren again. Calla’s words—about someone Loren loved—echoed in her mind. Who was this mysterious woman? Was she the reason Loren had been so cold to her, so distant?

But Mia quickly pushed the thoughts aside. The mission was clear. Loren Beck, his grandfather, and the rest of his family—none of them could stand in her way.

Not anymore.