Chapter 2 Haunted!
1306 Words
This action left both Stacey and the man stunned, the heat of the moment rapidly cooling down.
In the darkness, Stacey was so terrified that her breathing and heartbeat almost stopped. She wanted to explain, to plead for mercy, but she could only emit harsh, gasping breaths.
After a long time, feeling as though she was about to suffocate, Stacey finally heard the man's voice, calm yet tinged with disappointment. "It seems you are not yet ready to be my wife."
He was right, and Stacey couldn't deny it.
She straightened her dress, curled herself up, and waited in despair for whatever punishment was to come... Was he going to kill her now or after he had violently r***d her?
However, she heard the sound of the wheelchair rolling away.
Like a ghost emerging from the darkness, the man had come and just as mysteriously vanished back into it.
The next morning at seven, Stacey was awakened by a maid and nearly cried with relief upon realizing she was still alive.
The maid informed her that she and Lucas were to leave at eight. Aside from their wedding night held at the manor, they usually resided in a different private villa.
Stacey hurriedly changed her clothes and rushed to the kitchen to make herself a simple sandwich, cutting it in half and stuffing the uneaten portion into the fridge.
Unknown to her, after she left, the sound of the wheelchair followed the path she had taken to the kitchen.
The fridge door opened, and a pair of slender, beautiful hands, with long fingers like those of a pianist, took the remaining half of her roughly cut sandwich. The hands, full of curiosity, turned it over, quickly smearing itself with the tomato sauce leaking out, causing a slice of cucumber to drop with a "plop."
"I'm sorry." Stacey's voice suddenly echoed at the kitchen entrance as she returned to dispose of the trash, wondering why such a large manor lacked trash bins.
But what did she see? A man in a wheelchair! Could it be Lucas? Well, there couldn't be another man in a wheelchair in this huge manor.
Perhaps the daylight had dissolved her fears, for Stacey boldly stared at the man's back with her big eyes, wide and unblinking. The cucumber slice lay beside the wheelchair, and a middle-aged man in butler's attire bent down to pick it up, politely bowing to her in the process.
"Mrs. Anderson, it's a pleasure to meet you for the first time. I am Owen Burton."
"Hello, you can call me Stacey."
Mimicking the curtsies she had seen on television, Stacey lifted the hem of her skirt in response and then looked up to find the man in the wheelchair had smoothly turned to face her.
At that moment, it seemed everything in the world dimmed in comparison to him.
The man appeared to be in his late twenties, with fine facial features, smooth skin, and beautifully defined muscles, his entirety exuding a perfection akin to Michelangelo's David, without a single flaw visible at first glance.
He sat in the wheelchair with the dignity of a sovereign, dressed in a sexy black robe with a V-neckline slightly revealing his Adam's apple and strong pectoral muscles, which pulsed gently under the light with each heartbeat.
Stacey had never seen such a handsome man. She was so captivated at first sight that she didn't even register the color of his hair or eyes.
Perhaps scorched by her intense gaze, the man tilted his head, avoiding her look, and took a bite from the sandwich.
"Ah!"
"Mr. Anderson!"
In the chorus of exclamations from Stacey and Owen, the man frowned, maneuvered his wheelchair closer to Stacey, and pushed the partially eaten sandwich back into her hand.
"I am Lucas." His voice, as eerily indifferent as it had been at night, remained calm, devoid of any human emotion. "Your husband."
Stacey and Lucas each took a Rolls-Royce out of the city area, and two hours later, arrived at a beautiful villa with a rose garden on the outskirts.
That night, Stacey lay alone in bed, browsing through media reports about Lucas.
Until today, Lucas had been a mystery to the media. His position as CEO of Wideworld Group had been kept so under wraps that not even a photo of him had been published. Discussions mostly revolved around Lucas' father, Alex Anderson, the founder of Wideworld Group.
It was rumored that Alex had married four times, with each wife mysteriously dying, leaving behind a child from each marriage. Lucas was the youngest of these children.
Due to the mysterious deaths of Alex's wives, the media, drawing parallels with the story of the murderous wealthy man, nicknamed him "Bluebeard." Lucas' use of one hundred million dollars to seek a bride was also cynically referred to as a "Bluebeard family tradition."
"Clang."
Suddenly, the light in the bedroom went out, startling Stacey. The wind howled through the windows, rustling the curtains, and the spacious bedroom instantly felt eerie and terrifying.
"Ring!"
Mysterious chimes echoed from outside the room, followed by the shrill crying of a woman, screaming heartbreakingly, "You're a devil! Let me go. You're a devil..."
The chilling sound penetrated through the doors, and with each chime, the wind outside seemed to grow fiercer like a scene in a horror movie.
Stacey shivered, recalling the phrase "Bluebeard family tradition."
Although Lucas was not the "Hunchback" she had imagined but instead a handsome man, being handsome didn't mean he couldn't be a psychotic killer.
Compelled, she walked to the window, and what she saw made her gasp in horror.
In the night, a woman in a white dress, hair disheveled, ran wildly through the garden, chased by servants. Suddenly, the woman looked up towards Stacey and gave a ghastly smile.
Her face was so pale that it seemed to lack features, except for the stark red blood around her mouth.
"Ah!"
Stacey screamed, stumbling out of the bedroom.
The hallway was pitch black. She ran, yelling, "Is anyone there? Help."
No one responded. Her voice echoed through the vast villa.
"Bang!"
Suddenly, she collided with someone, a figure with a pale face in the dim light.
Stacey screamed, but a familiar voice calmed her. "Mrs. Anderson, it's me. What happened?"
It was the butler, Owen, holding a flashlight that brightly illuminated Stacey's face.
Stacey, still in shock, clutched at his sleeve, stuttering, "Mr. Burton, there's a ghost. There's..."
Then, she blacked out.
Owen shook the unconscious woman, getting no response. He turned, addressing someone around the corner, "Sir, Mrs. Anderson has fainted."
The sound of a wheelchair approached, and under the dim light, Lucas' honey-colored hair and blue eyes appeared almost translucent, giving him the pallor of a vampire lord dwelling in an ancient castle.
He looked down at Stacey on the floor, then at Owen.
Understanding his gaze, Owen revealed a small bottle in his palm, explaining, "She's fine but just inhaled a bit of sleeping gas we prepared for Mrs. Anderson."
His reference to Mrs. Anderson clearly did not mean Stacey.
Lucas shifted his gaze from Stacey, looking into the darkness.
Two women emerged. The one in front was the white-dressed woman Stacey had seen from the window. Her face was dirty, and her mouth gagged with a thick cloth, still struggling silently...
Behind the white-dressed woman, a maid bowed apologetically. "Sir, I'm sorry. I failed to watch Mrs. Anderson."
Lucas ignored the maid and asked Owen, "Can you hypnotize Stacey to forget what happened tonight?"
Owen replied with some difficulty, "I'll do my best."
Lucas wheeled closer to Stacey, looking down at her.
"You must," he said coldly, "because we cannot afford to make the same mistake again."
Then he added, "I do not want to kill my wife a second time."
- Writer
