《Silhouette of Vengeance[English]》


 Mirror of Malice

    Steel-gray clouds pressed low over the city. In the villa''s floor-to-ceiling window, Damien''s silhouette wrestled with a silk tie, freshly printed documents steaming slightly on the desk. The photo frame held Elena''s Alpine wedding smile, snow-capped peaks blurring behind her veil. His thumb froze on the gilded frame edge, signet ring grinding against platinum wedding band. The razor-sharp jawline tensed.


    "Madam changed her schedule?"


    The housemaid dipped her head. "Miss Sophia took Madam to Nice for landscape sketching at dawn. Mentioned a month''s stay."


    Damien''s temple pulsed under pressing fingers. "Hm."


    Two hundred miles south¡ª


    Elena''s boot sank into the third mud pit, leather now earth-caked. "This sketching spot exists?" She swiped rain from eyelashes, power lines flickering in the storm.


    Sophia kicked aside pine debris. "Just ahead," her voice carried through wet air. "Remember our college hideout?"


    The knife slid between ribs with clinical precision. Elena''s pupils dilated, mirroring the friend who''d shared dorm secrets. "Sweet dreams," Sophia purred, stiletto heel twisting in the wound.


    Steel kissed flesh in rhythmic wet sounds. Elena clutched her stomach, blood welling through fingers. "Why...weren''t we..."


    "Friends?" Sophia''s chuckle sliced through rain. "Your pitying friendship choked me! Heiress playing artist while I fought for crumbs." She watched crimson pool in mud. "Your villa...your adoring husband..." The shovel materialized in her grip. "Mine now."


    Lightning fractured the sky, glinting on the shovel''s edge. Dirt clods thumped on Elena''s chest with each mechanical swing. Blood swirled darkly in rainwater, staining Sophia''s humming tune.


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    As the last soil settled, Elena''s fading vision burned with twin truths: Damien''s possible complicity, her silent oath of vengeance. Fingers clawing at mud, she surrendered to viscous darkness.


    Elena, in a trance, found herself reminiscing about her campus days, vividly recalling the moment she first forged a bond with Sophia. Aware of Sophia¡¯s modest financial background, Elena¡¯s heart was filled with compassion, and she cared for her newfound friend with utmost attention, striving to alleviate Sophia¡¯s economic burdens.


    As the years passed, Sophia began to purchase clothes and bags identical to Elena¡¯s, and even mimicked her gestures and quirks with striking accuracy. Cyna had once cautioned her about this, saying, ¡°Haven¡¯t you noticed how much more like you Sophia has become lately?¡±


    How did she respond at that time? ¡°We¡¯re close friends; a bit of similarity is only natural.¡±


    The dream shifted, and she found herself reliving the scene of introducing Damien to Sophia for the first time after they had become a couple. The moment Sophia laid eyes on the handsome Damien, a spark of admiration lit up her eyes.


    Suddenly, the scene took a nightmarish turn. In the dream, Sophia brandished a sharp knife, wildly twisting it within Elena¡¯s body. ¡°Pain¡­ it¡¯s so painful¡­¡± Elena cried out inwardly. ¡°Ah ¡ª¡ª¡± She jolted awake from the nightmare, drenched in cold sweat, with beads of perspiration rolling down her forehead. The jumbled memories, intertwined with her deep-rooted hatred for Sophia, gradually pulled her out of the disorienting fog.


    ¡°You¡¯re finally awake.¡± A warm, mellow male voice reached her ears. Elena, bewildered, blurted out, ¡°Who are you? I¡­ I didn¡¯t die?¡± Sunlight filtered gently through the window, casting a soft glow over the sharply-featured man before her. Even his white coat seemed to pale in comparison. The man replied amicably, ¡°I¡¯m Marcus, the doctor who rescued you. Fortunately, it rained that day. When we found you, you were still clinging to life.¡± He paused briefly, his expression grave, before continuing slowly, ¡°Who could be so heartless and cruel as to attempt to end your life in such a desolate place with such a heinous method?¡±


    At that moment, the TV in the hospital ward was broadcasting a news item: Damien, the financial magnate, and his wife Elena were set to host a lavish birthday banquet for their son¡¯s fourth birthday at the city¡¯s most opulent hotel. Gazing at the woman on the TV screen who was the spitting image of herself, a flash of fierce determination.

 Vespera

    ¡°Thank you, Marcus,¡± Elena said sincerely, ¡°Without you, I might not have survived. Since God didn¡¯t let me die, I will make that woman pay the price she deserves.¡± Elena turned her head, fighting back tears.


    Marcus stood beside her, somewhat at a loss. He often came to visit this patient, even when she was mostly asleep. He still remembered the day five years ago when he first met Elena. The sky was overcast, with a steady drizzle, and the air was filled with the scent of wind and leaves. He was on his way to his secluded grandmother¡¯s house when he saw an arm covered in blood sticking out of the soil. He dug furiously and revealed a woman with long, golden curly hair, bright red lips, and expensive jewelry on her body. The mixture of dirt and blood could not hide her beauty. Ignoring his rapidly pounding heart, he picked her up and ran to the hospital.


    ¡°I must save her,¡± Marcus vowed silently to himself, not only because of his duty as a doctor but also because of a slight affection he was not ready to admit.


    ¡°Mr. Marcus, help me out, please,¡± Elena¡¯s voice brought Marcus back to the present. He looked at her lips moving and, without hesitation, answered, ¡°Yes.¡±


    Elena got up and walked to the hospital window, looking at the greenery outside. She picked up a hot drink that Marcus had prepared and slowly began, ¡°Since that woman has taken my identity as ¡®Elena¡¯, Mr. Marcus, do you know how to perform plastic surgery?¡±


    Meanwhile, Felix was playing with his building blocks. His mother, Elena, always took him to these social gatherings of the elite. ¡°I¡¯m not allowed to play games again,¡± Felix muttered under his breath, expressing his dissatisfaction with his mother. He looked at her chatting with the other ladies in the distance and then focused back on his toys. The sunlight in front of him was suddenly blocked, and he looked up to see a dignified woman sitting in front of him.


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    The woman had long dark brown hair and was dressed in a black gown. Her hands were folded, holding a black chain handbag. ¡°Hello, Felix,¡± she said in a gentle yet enchanting voice, ¡°I¡¯m Vespera. I would like to be your painting teacher. If you let me be your teacher, I can let you play games every day.¡±


    Felix¡¯s young mind couldn¡¯t fathom why a stranger would approach him. He thought of his strict mother and then his beloved games. He furrowed his little brows, seemingly making a quick decision. Felix hopped off the chair, walked up to Vespera, and looked up with his little head, asking, ¡°Really, I can play games? But why are you helping me?¡± Vespera¡¯s lips curled slightly, and she gave a slight nod. ¡°Of course,¡± she said, then lowered her voice to a whisper only she could hear, ¡°For revenge.¡±


    At the entrance of Damien¡¯s villa, Vespera walked across a large expanse of grass, returning to a place once so familiar to her. The ¡®Elena¡¯ sitting in front of her had her legs crossed on the sofa, her right hand leisurely holding a cup of coffee, which she then sipped. After sizing up Vespera, she spoke with elegance and confidence, ¡°You do have some charm, but I don¡¯t care what your purpose is, nor how you managed to get close to my son and convince him to make you his painting teacher. Just do your job well, teach my son to paint properly, and behave. Otherwise, for people like us, wealthy and powerful, squashing you would be as easy as crushing an ant.¡± Vespera replied, ¡°Yes, I graduated from an art academy. You can trust my skills.¡± Elena¡¯s lips twitched upwards. ¡°If it weren¡¯t for the fact that I injured my hand saving my husband five years ago, leaving me unable to hold a paintbrush ever again, someone like you wouldn¡¯t be fit to teach my son. You should know, before the injury, I was a renowned painter in the industry.¡± She waved her hand, indicating for Vespera to leave and return at the weekend to teach Felix to paint.


    As Vespera was about to leave, Damien parked his car and walked into the villa. She watched from the side as the man she once deeply loved entered the house. Through the French windows, she saw him embrace ¡®Elena¡¯, his affection undiminished. Vespera couldn¡¯t help but sneer softly, ¡°Do you really know your wife, or have you been with her all along?¡±

 Art Exhibition

    On the weekend, Vespera arrived as promised. The door opened, and there was ¡®Elena¡¯ leaning against the door frame in a silk robe, with faint love bites visible on her neck. Vespera forced herself not to look at those marks. ¡°Vespera, you¡¯re here, Felix is waiting for you,¡± ¡®Elena¡¯ invited her into the living room, where a maid served her a cup of coffee.


    ¡°''Next week, there¡¯s a children¡¯s art exhibition organized by several wealthy ladies, and I want to display Felix¡¯s paintings,¡± ¡®Elena¡¯ paused, then placed her hand on Vespera¡¯s shoulder, speaking gently and softly, ¡°But you know Felix¡¯s painting skills are a bit weak. I¡¯m sure, with a teacher of your caliber, one week is enough to help Felix create a great piece, right?¡± Vespera suppressed her nausea, looking at ¡®Elena¡¯s¡¯ smiling tiger-like face. ¡°Please rest assured, Madam, I will make Felix and you the brightest stars at the children¡¯s art exhibition.¡± ¡®Elena¡¯ relaxed and patted her shoulder, ¡°As long as you do a good job, there will be benefits for you.¡±


    Sunlight fell on the grass in the courtyard, and Vespera was leisurely painting on the canvas, surrounded by the clear chirping of birds, showcasing her good mood. She thought with pleasure, ¡°Sophia, with my face and name, let¡¯s see if you¡¯ve improved over the years.¡± The sound of high heels clacking on the tiles came rushing over. ¡®Elena¡¯, wearing a white coat and gold high heels, holding a painting, suddenly threw it at Vespera, causing her forehead to start bleeding red. She looked up and saw ¡®Elena¡¯s¡¯ angry face. ¡°Vespera, you slut! How dare you deceive me!¡± The loud female voice, combined with ¡®Elena¡¯s¡¯ twisted features, showed that the woman was extremely angry.


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    ¡°Madam, I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about,¡± Vespera replied calmly.


    Two hours ago, at a children¡¯s art exhibition, Elena and a group of wealthy ladies were praising the exhibited children¡¯s paintings. A staff member flattered, ¡°Young Master Felix is so young, yet his use of color and brushwork is already so mature. He¡¯s truly a genius.¡± Elena felt a surge of pride and couldn¡¯t help but lift her proud face. A wealthy lady not far away also praised, ¡°Felix must have inherited from Madam Elena. I heard that Madam Elena was a top student in the art department back in her days. If it weren¡¯t for the injury and accident a few years ago, leaving her unable to hold a paintbrush, she would have become a famous female painter by now.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s true, but Madam Elena is still our city¡¯s renowned talent. Even though she no longer paints, she¡¯s now a best-selling author,¡± another lady commented after examining Felix¡¯s painting closely. She then asked with doubt, ¡°Wait, isn¡¯t this painting the one I saw at a French art exhibition half a year ago? I think it¡¯s by the emerging artist Lilies.¡± Elena¡¯s mind exploded upon hearing this.


    ¡°Wh¡­ what?¡± The lady covered her mouth, but the laughter leaking through her fingers was clearly mocking. ¡°Don¡¯t you recognize this painting, Madam Elena? As a top graduate from a prestigious art academy, how could you not know about Lilies? Or do you know her very well but tried to fool us who are not familiar with the art world by passing off a famous painter¡¯s work as your son¡¯s?¡± The lady looked at Elena with arrogance, leaving her feeling humiliated. ¡°It must have been a mistake by the housemaid,¡±


    Elena said through gritted teeth to Vespera. ¡°You think you¡¯re smart, trying to deceive me with such a clumsy trick, Vespera, you slut?¡±

 Damien

    Elena was fuming, but she reminded herself that it was beneath her to argue with a mere painting instructor. Taking a deep breath, she adjusted her posture and sat elegantly on the nearby sofa, looking down at Vespera from above. "Felix''s painting is a copy of Lilith''s work. Why didn''t you inform me in advance?"


    Vespera pursed her lips. "Madam, I did mention it to you."


    Elena recalled a few days earlier when she had been meticulously applying makeup to her satisfaction. Vespera, dressed in a black evening gown, had entered her room.


    "Vespera, what is it?"


    Vespera crossed her hands, her fingers twirling as she casually inquired, "Have you heard of the rising star in the art world, Lilith?"


    "Lilith? Oh, of course, I''ve heard of her."


    Vespera stared intently at Elena''s face, as if unwilling to miss even the slightest expression. "Then have you seen her work, ''Rain''?"


    Elena turned around without hesitation to face Vespera. "Of course I have. I even attended Lilith''s exhibition. Her paintings are quite remarkable¡ªI admire her."


    "Then you wouldn¡¯t object to Felix copying her work, would you?"


    Elena brushed aside a lock of hair and applied mascara to her lashes. "Such a trivial matter¡ªyou can decide on your own. I only care about the results," she said, as though it were an insignificant issue.


    Standing in the living room, Vespera''s forehead wound seemed to speak of her grievances. "Madam, I heard that you graduated from a top-tier art academy. I never expected you to be unfamiliar with Lilith''s work."


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    Elena let out a light scoff. She knew she was in the wrong, so she attempted to smooth things over. "Vespera, does your forehead still hurt? You should go to the hospital¡ªI''ll cover the medical expenses. I recently got pregnant, so my memory and emotions might be a little off. I was a bit hasty earlier¡ªyou don¡¯t mind, do you?"


    She placed her hand on Felix¡¯s painting, gently rubbing the dried wrinkles of the paint. "You do have some talent. Rest assured, as long as you continue to instruct Felix well, your compensation will be generous."


    "Understood," Vespera replied impassively. She turned her gaze toward the lush tree outside the window, as if seeing a vision of her student days¡ªSophia, pouting as she pleaded with Elena.


    "Please, help me finish this oil painting. You¡¯ve been studying painting for years. If the professor sees that I still can''t do it properly, I''ll definitely get scolded."


    With a helpless sigh, Elena had relented. "Alright, alright, I¡¯ll help you."


    Back in the present, Vespera looked at the poised woman before her, exuding the elegance of a noble lady. "Sophia, after all these years, you still haven¡¯t changed one bit."


    She steadied herself and left the living room.


    "Ding¡ª" Her phone rang. It was a call from Marcus. As soon as she answered, she heard shocking news.


    "Vespera, I¡¯ve got the results of the investigation you asked for. The owner of the villa at 8 Queen Street has moved abroad, but no one ever saw her leave. A neighbor once claimed to have seen the owner''s daughter come out of the villa."


    Vespera clenched her phone tightly, as if she wanted to crush it. Her teeth bit into her lips until they bled. "Sophia, it was one thing for you to harm me, but now you won¡¯t even spare my mother? I swear, I will make you pay!"


    "Elena." Damien pushed open the door. He had just returned home from work, his sharply defined features carrying a hint of concern and anxiety. "What happened?"


    Hidden in the corner, Vespera saw the genuine worry in his eyes. The suit he was wearing was still the one she had bought for him long ago, yet now, he was showing all his care to another woman. She closed her eyes, recalling the days when they had sworn their love to each other.


    A younger Damien had once knelt on one knee, holding a bouquet of roses, his love for Elena unmistakable. "Elena, I love you," he had said. "I will love you forever. I''ve counted the tides before seven sunsets, and I found that every rise and fall matches the rhythm of your breath. The Pacific Ocean is Earth''s heartbeat, echoing yours."


    "The curve of your eyelashes is my instrument for measuring the curvature of the galaxy. Every moment a star strays from its orbit, it writes your name."


    Elena had accepted the roses, and Damien had pulled her into a tight embrace before kissing her deeply.


    Now, Damien took Elena¡¯s hand, his expression tense as he carefully examined it for any signs of injury. "You''re not hurt, are you? Ever since your hand was injured, I''ve told you so many times¡ªno more painting."


    He gently touched her forehead, his voice filled with indulgence. "You never listen to me."


    "Don''t worry, I won¡¯t anymore."


    Listening to their tender exchange, Vespera felt a stabbing pain in her heart. She pressed a hand to her chest, her eyes welling up with tears. "Why¡­ why does it hurt so much?"


    Only now did Damien notice the other woman in the room, curled up in the corner. His brows furrowed as he asked softly, "Who are you?"

 Emotion

    Elena hooked her arm around Damien¡¯s in a gentle motion. "Darling, this is the painting instructor I hired for Felix¡ªVespera."


    Damien looked at the woman before him. He had never seen her before, yet there was something vaguely familiar about her. Unable to place the feeling, he decided to keep his distance to avoid any misunderstandings with Elena.


    "Mr. Damien, I¡¯ve long heard of your name."


    "Mm," Damien nodded slightly, acknowledging her words. Then, turning to Elena with a soft smile, he asked, "Baby, I was away on a business trip these past few days. Did you miss me?"


    "Mm."


    "Then let¡¯s go to our room. There¡¯s something I want to tell you."


    Standing still, Vespera felt an unbearable ache rising within her. Tears streamed down her face as she whispered to herself, "Who am I?"¡ª"I don¡¯t even know who I am anymore."


    The empty living room bore silent witness to her self-mockery.


    Dark clouds veiled the moonlight. The wind howled through the trees outside, rustling the leaves in an eerie symphony. Vespera lay in the bathtub, still lost in thought over what had happened earlier that day. Deep within her, it felt as if another voice was whispering, urging her, "Are you hesitating? Are you wavering?"


    "No!" Vespera immediately retorted.


    The voice, filled with hatred, persisted. "Don¡¯t forget your vengeance. Don¡¯t forget how Sophia ruined you¡ªhow she stole your wealth, your identity, and even your man. You must take revenge. For the sake of your revenge, you must use everything at your disposal, including Damien."


    "That¡¯s right! I will have my revenge! I will make Sophia pay!" Vespera¡¯s forehead veins bulged, and her eyes turned sharp with fury. Struggling to contain herself, she slowly submerged her head beneath the water, hoping the brief suffocation would clear her mind. "Mother¡¯s whereabouts are still unknown. Only she knows where Mother is. I must stay calm," she reminded herself. Then, with a sudden jolt, she surfaced, gasping for air¡ªonly to submerge herself again. Again and again, she repeated the cycle.


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    The bathroom filled with a hazy mist, and the warm golden light turned dreamy in the vapor. The bathtub¡¯s rippling water reflected a mesmerizing glow.


    Damien rested one hand on the edge of the tub while the other caressed Elena¡¯s face, his thumb brushing against her flushed cheek. He leaned in slowly, their breaths mingling¡ªhot and rapid. Then, his lips crashed onto hers, deep and possessive. Elena closed her eyes, responding to his passion with equal fervor. Their lips melded together, locked in a fervent dance, as though trying to imprint each other into their very bones. The water swayed gently with their movements, splashing tiny droplets into the air.


    So painful¡­ so unbearable¡­ why¡­


    Feeling as though she was about to drown, on the brink of suffocation, Vespera finally relented. She broke the water¡¯s surface, clutching her chest as she gasped for breath. Her voice trembled, yet each word was laced with unwavering determination: "So-phia¡­ shall we make another bet? Let¡¯s see if Damien truly loves the name and face of ''Elena''¡­ or her soul."


    Inside the dimly lit bedroom, thick curtains blocked out the outside world, leaving only the soft glow of the bedside lamp to cast a gentle light over the room. Damien¡¯s hands traced down Elena¡¯s waist, making her shudder involuntarily. She hooked her arms around his neck, tilting her head up to deepen their kiss, their breathing growing increasingly erratic. Their lips and tongues entwined, interspersed with occasional soft gasps. Damien¡¯s hand slid over Elena¡¯s lower abdomen but paused there, not moving further.


    Elena absentmindedly traced circles on Damien¡¯s chest. "Damien, let¡¯s keep going."


    Damien¡¯s Adam¡¯s apple bobbed. "You¡¯re still pregnant. It¡¯s not safe. Let¡¯s wait until after the baby is born."


    His slender fingers rubbed gentle circles over her stomach, yet his labored breathing betrayed his restraint.


    "Then¡­ kiss me again," Elena whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck once more. Damien obliged, sealing her lips with his own.


    Outside in the dimly lit hallway, Vespera peered through the narrow gap in the door and silently observed the passion between the two. Her expression remained eerily calm. "A healthy, virile man, forced to abstain because of his wife¡¯s pregnancy. Sophia, just how much does he truly love you? Let¡¯s wait and see." With that, she turned and disappeared into the darkness of the corridor, step by step fading away into the night.

 Game

    After a sleepless night, Damien¡¯s eyes were deeply sunken, and his complexion appeared somewhat pale. To avoid disturbing Elena¡¯s peaceful slumber, he slowly got up, gently closed the bedroom door behind him, and headed towards the walk-in closet to change out of his sleepwear. However, as he reached the stairway corner, he unexpectedly encountered Vispera, a woman he had only met once before. As he stepped aside to give way, he accidentally knocked into the glass of water in Vispera¡¯s hand, causing some of it to spill onto her nightgown.


    Her already semi-transparent white nightgown became even more revealing as the water seeped into the fabric, making it cling provocatively to her figure, assaulting Damien¡¯s senses.


    Vispera immediately apologized upon seeing the accident. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, sir, some water splashed onto your face. Let me wipe it off for you.¡± She promptly placed both hands on Damien¡¯s cheeks, her soft fingers gently brushing away what seemed to be nonexistent water droplets.


    The proximity between them was too close¡ªso close that Damien could clearly see the fine beads of sweat along her collarbone, the milky smoothness of her skin, and the delicate, cat-like fingers teasing his face. The unique, alluring fragrance of this mature woman filled his nostrils. A sudden heat surged from his lower abdomen, his heartbeat quickening uncontrollably. The thumping in his chest made his breathing grow heavier.


    Why am I having such thoughts about another woman? No! I love Elena! I belong only to her!


    In an instant, Damien snapped back to reality. He abruptly grabbed her wrist, his voice stern, ¡°What are you doing?¡±


    Vispera quickly withdrew her hands and took a small step back, her face carrying an apologetic expression. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Mr. Damien. I just wanted to help wipe off the water.¡±


    Damien wiped his cheek with his own hand. ¡°That won¡¯t be necessary. I can do it myself.¡± He continued down the stairs but suddenly stopped in thought, glancing back at Vispera.


    ¡°Miss Vispera, please dress appropriately when you¡¯re at home in the future.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I understand.¡±


    Hearing her response, Damien turned and left without another word.


    Vispera lowered her gaze to the hand that had just touched Damien¡¯s face. The corners of her lips curled into a subtle smile.


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    ¡°Damien, welcome to the game.¡±


    Felix had been painting for three hours now.


    Kneeling on one knee beside him, Vispera leaned forward and pointed at a picture in his drawing book, her voice gentle. ¡°Sweetheart, do you see this tree? Be bold¡ªpaint the colors you see directly onto the canvas.¡±


    Felix nodded but, after a while, turned around and asked in a soft, childish voice, ¡°Miss Vispera, can I take a break before continuing?¡±


    ¡°Felix, are you tired?¡± Vispera noticed him gently rotating his wrist, seemingly trying to ease some slight discomfort. She glanced out the window¡ªit was already evening. Drawing for such a long time was indeed a challenge for a child.


    ¡°Felix, your mother wants you to excel in painting. You wouldn¡¯t want to disappoint her, would you?¡±


    Children couldn¡¯t hide their emotions. He looked slightly aggrieved as he expressed his true feelings. ¡°But I really don¡¯t like painting.¡±


    Well, there was no point in arguing with a child. After all, he was innocent in all of this.


    Vispera gently placed a hand on Felix¡¯s forehead, soothing him. ¡°Finish today¡¯s practice, and I¡¯ll let you play computer games later, okay?¡±


    Hearing that, Felix¡¯s little face brightened immediately. The tears that had welled up in his eyes vanished in an instant, replaced by an excited smile.


    ¡°Okay!¡±


    Elena¡¯s luxury car slowly pulled into the villa. The wheels rolled over the fine gravel, producing a soft crunching sound.


    Upon stepping through the door, she reached up to remove her exquisite white wide-brimmed hat, casually handing it to a waiting maid. The delicate feathers on the hat quivered slightly, as if whispering tales of the grandeur from the gathering she had just attended.


    She lazily sank into the sofa, crossing her legs casually. Picking up a glass of red wine from the coffee table, she swirled it gently, watching the liquid ripple in the glass, releasing its intoxicating aroma. Taking a small sip, she allowed a contented smile to grace her lips.


    Realizing she hadn¡¯t checked in on her son for a while, she asked nonchalantly, ¡°How has Felix been lately?¡±


    The maid standing beside her respectfully replied, ¡°Young Master Felix has been learning to paint with Miss Vispera all day.¡±


    ¡°Hmm, I¡¯ll go see how his practice is coming along.¡±


    With that, she set down the wine glass and rose gracefully to her feet. Another maid stepped forward at just the right moment to drape a red fur shawl over her shoulders.


    Elena strolled through the long corridor and arrived at her son¡¯s room¡ªonly to be met with an infuriating sight.


    Felix was seated at his computer desk, his eyes fixated on the colorful game displayed on the screen. His small hand rapidly moved the mouse, clicking back and forth with enthusiasm.


    Meanwhile, the tutor she had hired¡ªVispera¡ªwas seated beside him in a chair, legs crossed, leisurely flipping through a fashion magazine.


    Fury surged through Elena.


    She strode forward, yanking the headphones off Felix¡¯s head and throwing them forcefully to the ground. They shattered into pieces with a loud ¡°smash¡ª¡±


    Without hesitation, her right hand swung across Vispera¡¯s face, landing a heavy slap on her left cheek.