Married Strangers

Villains In White

Chapter Eight

The walk back to the room was quiet and endless, as if the corridors themselves stretched with every step.

Phyn could see the sadness in Isabella’s eyes, but she dared not speak, bound by the etiquette she had been raised with.

The moment they reached Isabella’s doorstep, a harsh, angry voice came from behind.

“Phyn.”

Startled, both Isabella and Phyn turned in sync.

Mrs. Elena stood there with her arms folded, her eyes fixed on Isabella with unmistakable disdain.

“Mom,” Phyn called softly.

But her mother silenced her with a sharp gesture of her hand, a command that left no room for reconciliation. She stepped closer to Isabella, who stood still, her weakness and vulnerability already exposed in her eyes.

With barely a foot of space between them, Isabella spoke quietly.

“Mom.”

Without hesitation, Mrs. Elena slapped her hard across the face.

Isabella froze in shock. Phyn gasped and hurriedly grabbed her mother, but Mrs. Elena wasn’t finished.

“Don’t think you can steal my daughter from me,” she yelled. “You are nothing in this house. You are…..”

She didn’t finish her sentence.

Phyn, furious, dragged her mother by the arm, pulling her away into the corridor. But little did Mrs. Elena know that she had just awakened the villainous soul within Isabella.

Eris.

Isabella’s eyes shifted instantly, from weak and fragile to cold and ruthless. Her gaze lowered to the brown marble floor, as if she could trace Mrs. Elena’s and Phyn’s footsteps from their reflection alone.

She followed them slowly, her steps faint, barely audible. Down the stairs she went, carefully keeping their trail. Reaching the second floor, she remained composed until she stood before the steel-crafted door of Mrs. Elena’s room.

She lifted her hand, lightly touching the door as though measuring it.

Just then, footsteps clicked behind her.

“Ma’am Isabella,” Sarah called.

Eris turned calmly.

“What are you doing here, young mistress?” Sarah asked kindly.

Isabella smiled gently. “I’m very thirsty. The water in my room is finished. But I heard noises coming from Mom’s room. Now that I’m closer, I can’t hear anything.”

She spoke freely, her smile effortless and composed.

Curious, Sarah stepped closer to the door to confirm the noise. At that moment, Isabella discreetly pressed the cat button hidden in her palm, creating the illusion of sound.

After a few moments, Sarah relaxed. “It’s probably nothing. The old madam has always loved cats. Maybe she got a new one and is playing with it. Don’t think too much about it.”

Reassured, Sarah walked away.

Eris smiled.

They parted, Sarah heading toward her room while Eris moved down the stairs. Once she was sure Sarah had closed her door, Eris’s smile widened.

She moved freely toward the inner parlor, pulling a small key from her clothing.

Laughter bloomed silently in her chest as she recalled how she had studied the door’s keyhole, how Sarah had leaned close to listen, giving her the perfect opportunity to remove the key unnoticed.

She slipped outside toward the back of the house, moving from window to window until she reached Mrs. Elena’s. She studied the second-floor windows carefully, committing everything to memory.

Satisfied, she returned inside.

By now, Phyn should have left her mother’s room.

Certain of this, Eris sat calmly in the sitting room, dark thoughts simmering as she watched the clock tick slowly.

An hour passed.

The time was now 12:10 p.m.

She rose, unhurried, and climbed back upstairs to the second floor.

When she reached Mrs. Elena’s door, her lips curved into a cold smile. She slid the key into the lock and turned it smoothly.

The door unlocked.

The room greeted her with darkness.

Not the empty kind, but a thick, heavy darkness that clung to the walls and pressed against the air. The curtains were drawn, allowing only the faintest glow from the corridor to slip inside before the door closed behind her.

Eris stepped in quietly.

The room was neat, too neat. Everything stood in perfect order, untouched, controlled. On the large bed lay Mrs. Elena, sleeping peacefully, her breathing slow and steady, her face calm as though the world had never wronged her.

Eris studied her for a moment.

Then she turned toward the windows.

With careful movements, she pulled them open one by one. Cool air flowed in, stirring the curtains gently, whispering through the room like a secret being invited inside.

Satisfied, she walked back toward the bed.

She stood beside Mrs. Elena and looked down at the sleeping woman. A smile, soft, almost affectionate, curved her lips. Reaching out, she gently patted Mrs. Elena’s hair, slow and deliberate, like a daughter soothing a beloved mother.

Her eyes shifted.

On the bedside table, a night candle burned quietly.

Eris picked it up.

She lifted it slowly, the small flame trembling but obedient, casting shadows across her face as she moved. She placed it carefully back onto the table beside the bed, then reached for the tablecloth, pulling it just enough for its edge to brush against the mattress.

Only then did she release the candle.

It fell gently onto the table.

Eris watched as the flame caught, small at first, harmless-looking, then growing, licking softly at the cloth.

She turned away.

With unhurried steps, she walked out of the room, pausing just long enough to watch the fire glow brighter in her peripheral vision. She closed the door behind her and locked it, the click of the lock echoing softly in the quiet hallway.

From her pocket, she retrieved the key.

She wiped it thoroughly against her clothes, slow and careful, as though erasing every trace of herself. When she was satisfied, she let it fall to the floor.

Then she walked away.

Back in her room, she closed the door behind her. She picked up her phone and stared at the screen for a long moment, her expression unreadable.

Then she tossed it onto the bed and lay down, turning onto her side.

Within moments, she closed her eyes,

sleep coming easily,

as though she had done nothing at all.