Chapter 4
634 Words
And it was not just Ethan. All her prospective grooms had known Luna for years.
From beginning to end, she had been the only one kept in the dark.
What about Conrad? Had he known all along about Luna's presence in Ethan's life?
A sharp ache stabbed through Vesper's chest.
Every kindness she had shown those groom candidates now pierced her heart like razor-sharp blades.
"A pack of ungrateful wolves and that two-faced snake. "
A boyish voice full of outrage sounded behind her, making Vesper's heart leap.
"Conrad."
She cut herself off mid-word. Instead of Conrad, it was Lucas Zenith, the youngest of her prospective grooms, standing there.
Dressed in cutesy pink pajamas, Lucas glared at the doorway where the others had left, his face flushed with anger. He completely missed Vesper's mistaken recognition.
A flicker of disappointment crossed her eyes before she masked it, calmly picking up her glass of milk to continue breakfast.
Of course. She had forgotten. Conrad had already left the Lynd Villa, likely returning north where his family's power base lay.
Suddenly Lucas rushed forward, grabbing her arm and shaking it like a whiny brat. "Vesper, let's go get Ethan back. We can't let that manipulator take him."
The milk slipped from her grasp, shattering on the floor with a loud crash.
Vesper arched an eyebrow. "So what if she takes him? If I'm not worried, why should you be?"
Lucas froze, his eyes darting away. His guilt was plain as day. "I just don't want you to lose him. If Ethan gets taken away, he won't be your fiance anymore."
If she had not known about the dark desires festering inside him, she might have believed his concern was genuine.
She stood, yanking her arm back. "Save your concern. After all, he's my fiance being stolen, not yours. Right?"
Then she pointed at the broken glass. "You made this mess. Clean it up. And no servants. Pick up every piece yourself. With your hands."
In her past life, after she chose Ethan, the other candidates had been sent back to their families.
Yet they had all maintained close ties with Ethan, especially Lucas. She had always known.
At first she thought it was just childhood bonds. But night after night, a drunken Lucas would call Ethan, his voice thick with longing. That was when she understood. His admiration had warped into obsession. Just like hers.
She never hurt him directly. She just quietly pulled away from Ethan.
Yet in the end, Lucas had laughed while cutting the rope that kept her dangling.
The two people she trusted most had betrayed and killed her.
She needed to talk to her mother soon. These people had to go. Having them parade around the Lynd Villa every day was like salt in a wound.
By lunchtime, Ethan and the others had returned, sitting in stony silence at the dining table, waiting for her. Vesper had not touched her fork yet, and neither could the live-in suitors. That was the rule Ivy had laid down the moment they arrived.
Lucas, his fingers hastily wrapped and face still tear-streaked, sat sniffling beside Ethan, playing the victim. Vesper could not even bother to look. She took one step down the stairs and then froze.
Something was wrong.
The stairs were rigged.
Before she could react, her foot slipped and she was tumbling headlong. Steel marbles scattered under her feet. The railing gleamed, slick with oil. No matter how desperately she clawed at the air, there was nothing to grab, nothing to stop her fall.
And all of them, every last one, just stood there, watching coldly as she crashed down the steps.
Her bones screamed. Blood trickled from her forehead, clouding her vision. Gasping, her voice came out as a whisper.
"Help me."
- Writer
