《Revenge for the Stabbed Sisterhood [English]》 Mirror of Malice Dark clouds loomed over the city. Inside the villa, the floor-to-ceiling windows reflected Damien as he loosened his tie. The meeting documents on his desk still carried the warmth of the printer. In a photo frame, a smiling Elena stood at the foot of the Alps, dressed in her wedding gown. Damien¡¯s fingers paused at the edge of the frame, his other hand lightly rubbing his wedding ring. His chiseled jawline tensed slightly. "Madam¡¯s itinerary has changed?" The servant beside him responded, "Miss Sophia picked up Madam this morning, saying they were going to Nice for artistic inspiration. She mentioned it would be a month before they return." Damien rubbed his temples and nodded. "I see." Meanwhile¡ª Elena stepped into a mud puddle for the third time, her brown ankle boots now indistinguishable from the sludge. "Are you sure there¡¯s a sketching spot here?" She wiped the rain from her eyelashes, squinting at the distant transmission towers that flickered in and out of view beneath the heavy clouds. Sophia kicked aside a fallen branch blocking their path. "We¡¯re almost there, just a little farther." Her voice was laced with excitement. "You¡¯re going to love it¡ªjust like our secret hideout back in college." The moment the cold metal blade pierced her ribs, Elena¡¯s eyes widened in disbelief. She couldn¡¯t fathom that her once-cherished friend would go so far as to kill her. "This is the perfect place," Sophia whispered into her ear, pressing down on the wound with her foot. "A long, peaceful rest awaits you here." Then came the sickening sound of the knife plunging in again and again, followed by swift withdrawals. Elena met Sophia¡¯s venomous gaze, clutching her bleeding abdomen with trembling hands. Her voice quivered as she asked, "W-why...? Weren¡¯t we best... friends?" "Friends?!" Sophia spat, her voice filled with resentment. "Aren¡¯t you sick of playing this childish game? Why was everything handed to you from birth while I had to fight for every scrap? Do you have any idea how disgusting it was, watching you pretend to be my friend every day?" If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. She stared at Elena¡¯s pale, blood-soaked face, then suddenly laughed, as if a great burden had been lifted. "So what if you¡¯re a wealthy heiress? So what if your powerful CEO husband adores you? Soon, everything you had will be mine." Lightning split the night sky. The metal edge of the shovel gleamed ominously as Sophia mechanically scooped up wet earth, humming a cheerful tune. Thick clumps of soil struck Elena¡¯s chest with dull thuds. Blood seeped through her fingers, mixing with the stormwater, swirling into dark red pools in the mud. As the shovel swung down for the final time, Elena¡¯s mind clung to a desperate thought: Did Damien know about this? Was he part of it? I will return for my revenge. She curled her body with the last of her strength before succumbing to the darkness. ¡ª In the depths of unconsciousness, Elena found herself reliving her university days¡ªthe moment she and Sophia first became friends. She had always known Sophia came from a poor background, and out of compassion, she had done everything she could to ease her financial burdens. Over the years, Sophia had begun purchasing identical clothes, bags, and even mimicking Elena¡¯s gestures and habits. Even Senna had once warned her: "Haven¡¯t you noticed? Sophia is becoming more and more like you." Back then, how had she responded? "We¡¯re best friends. A little resemblance is completely normal!" The dream shifted. She was introducing Damien to Sophia for the first time after they had started dating. The moment Sophia saw the handsome, charismatic Damien, her eyes lit up with admiration. But then, the scene morphed into a nightmare¡ªSophia, holding a bloodstained knife, ruthlessly twisting it inside Elena¡¯s body. "It hurts... It hurts so much..." Elena screamed inside her mind. "Ah¡ª!" She jolted awake, drenched in cold sweat. Beads of perspiration trickled down her forehead as the tangled memories and burning hatred toward Sophia sharpened her consciousness. "You¡¯re finally awake." A deep, gentle male voice sounded beside her. Elena, still disoriented, asked, "Who are you? I... I¡¯m not dead?" Sunlight streamed through the window, casting a soft glow on the man¡¯s chiseled features. Even his white lab coat seemed to pale in comparison. The man responded calmly, "I¡¯m Marcus, the doctor who saved you. Thankfully, it rained that night¡ªwhen we found you, you were still alive." He paused, his expression growing serious. "Who was cruel enough to try to kill you in such a way?" Just then, the television in the hospital room broadcasted a news report: "Financial tycoon Damien and his wife Elena are set to host a grand birthday banquet for their son¡¯s fourth birthday at the city¡¯s most luxurious hotel." Elena stared at the screen, her gaze locking onto the woman with an identical face to hers. A flash of murderous intent flickered in her eyes. Her fists clenched involuntarily, knuckles turning white from the pressure. Vespera "Thank you, Marcus," Elena sincerely expressed her gratitude. "Without you, I probably wouldn''t have survived. Since God has spared my life, I will make that woman pay the price she deserves." Turning her head to the side, Elena fought back the tears that threatened to fall. Marcus stood beside her, somewhat at a loss. He frequently came to check on this patient, even though she spent most of her time in a deep sleep. He still vividly remembered the moment he found Elena five years ago. The sky was dark and heavy, rain drizzling steadily, the air filled with the scent of wind and fallen leaves. On his way to his grandmother¡¯s secluded home, he had caught sight of a bloodstained arm protruding from the soil. Without hesitation, he dug frantically, revealing a woman with golden, cascading curls. Her striking red lips and the expensive jewelry adorning her body were undeniable, even as mud and blood smeared across her skin. His heart pounded wildly, but he ignored it, lifting the woman into his arms and racing toward the hospital. "I must save her. I have to save her," Marcus vowed to himself¡ªnot only because of his duty as a doctor but also due to a sliver of emotion he dared not admit. "Mr. Marcus, a good man should see things through to the end. I need your help." Snapping out of his thoughts, Marcus found himself staring at Elena¡¯s moving lips, momentarily dazed. Without hesitation, he responded, "Alright." Elena stood up, walking toward the hospital window. She gazed out at the lush greenery, one hand holding the warm drink Marcus had prepared. Slowly, she spoke: "Since that woman has stolen my identity and become ''Elena''¡­ Mr. Marcus, do you know how to perform plastic surgery?" At that moment, Felix was fiddling with the blocks in his hands. His mother, Elena, always brought him to these high-society gatherings, yet she never let him play video games. "So unfair," Felix muttered under his breath, expressing his silent discontent. He glanced at his mother, who was engaged in conversation with a group of socialites, then shifted his focus back to his toy. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. That was when a shadow fell over him. He looked up and saw a poised woman seated before him. She had long, dark brown hair and was dressed in a sleek black gown. Her hands were elegantly folded, clutching a small black clutch purse. Elena¡ªno, she should be called Vespera now¡ªspoke in a warm yet alluring voice. "Hello, Felix. My name is Vespera. I¡¯d like to be your art teacher. If you let me teach you, I¡¯ll let you play video games every day." Felix tilted his small head, confused as to why a stranger would approach him. He thought about his strict mother and then about the games he loved so much. Furrowing his little brows, he quickly made up his mind. Jumping down from his chair, he stepped closer to Vespera and lifted his head to ask, "Really? I can play games? But why are you helping me?" Vespera¡¯s lips curled into a slight smile as she nodded gently. "Of course." Then, lowering her voice to a whisper only she could hear, she murmured, "For revenge." At Damien¡¯s villa entrance, Vespera strode across a vast stretch of lawn. She was back at the place she once knew so well. Sitting gracefully on the sofa ahead was ¡®Elena,¡¯ her legs crossed as she leisurely sipped her coffee. She studied Vespera for a moment before speaking in an elegant yet commanding tone. "You do have some charm, but I don¡¯t care what your intentions are or what tricks you used to get close to my son and make him insist on having you as his art teacher. Your only job is to teach him to paint¡ªnothing more. Stay in your place. Otherwise, for people like us, crushing someone like you is as easy as squashing an ant." Vespera responded calmly, "Yes, I graduated from an art academy. You can trust my skills." A smirk tugged at Elena¡¯s lips. "If I hadn¡¯t injured my hand five years ago while trying to save my husband, I would still be a renowned painter. And you? You wouldn¡¯t even be worthy of teaching my son. Just so you know, before my injury, I was one of the best in the field." With a dismissive wave, she signaled Vespera to leave and return on the weekend to begin Felix¡¯s lessons. As Vespera was about to step out of the door, Damien arrived, parking his car. She turned slightly, watching as the man she had once loved dearly entered the villa. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, she saw him embrace Elena. The affection in her gaze didn¡¯t waver, but a cold smile curled on her lips. "Do you really know your wife?" she whispered. "Or were you always in on it?" Art Exhibition "Thank you, Marcus," Elena sincerely expressed her gratitude. "Without you, I probably wouldn''t have survived. Since God has spared my life, I will make that woman pay the price she deserves." Turning her head to the side, Elena fought back the tears that threatened to fall. Marcus stood beside her, somewhat at a loss. He frequently came to check on this patient, even though she spent most of her time in a deep sleep. He still vividly remembered the moment he found Elena five years ago. The sky was dark and heavy, rain drizzling steadily, the air filled with the scent of wind and fallen leaves. On his way to his grandmother¡¯s secluded home, he had caught sight of a bloodstained arm protruding from the soil. Without hesitation, he dug frantically, revealing a woman with golden, cascading curls. Her striking red lips and the expensive jewelry adorning her body were undeniable, even as mud and blood smeared across her skin. His heart pounded wildly, but he ignored it, lifting the woman into his arms and racing toward the hospital. "I must save her. I have to save her," Marcus vowed to himself¡ªnot only because of his duty as a doctor but also due to a sliver of emotion he dared not admit. "Mr. Marcus, a good man should see things through to the end. I need your help." Snapping out of his thoughts, Marcus found himself staring at Elena¡¯s moving lips, momentarily dazed. Without hesitation, he responded, "Alright." Elena stood up, walking toward the hospital window. She gazed out at the lush greenery, one hand holding the warm drink Marcus had prepared. Slowly, she spoke: "Since that woman has stolen my identity and become ''Elena''¡­ Mr. Marcus, do you know how to perform plastic surgery?" At that moment, Felix was fiddling with the blocks in his hands. His mother, Elena, always brought him to these high-society gatherings, yet she never let him play video games. "So unfair," Felix muttered under his breath, expressing his silent discontent. He glanced at his mother, who was engaged in conversation with a group of socialites, then shifted his focus back to his toy. Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. That was when a shadow fell over him. He looked up and saw a poised woman seated before him. She had long, dark brown hair and was dressed in a sleek black gown. Her hands were elegantly folded, clutching a small black clutch purse. Elena¡ªno, she should be called Vespera now¡ªspoke in a warm yet alluring voice. "Hello, Felix. My name is Vespera. I¡¯d like to be your art teacher. If you let me teach you, I¡¯ll let you play video games every day." Felix tilted his small head, confused as to why a stranger would approach him. He thought about his strict mother and then about the games he loved so much. Furrowing his little brows, he quickly made up his mind. Jumping down from his chair, he stepped closer to Vespera and lifted his head to ask, "Really? I can play games? But why are you helping me?" Vespera¡¯s lips curled into a slight smile as she nodded gently. "Of course." Then, lowering her voice to a whisper only she could hear, she murmured, "For revenge." At Damien¡¯s villa entrance, Vespera strode across a vast stretch of lawn. She was back at the place she once knew so well. Sitting gracefully on the sofa ahead was ¡®Elena,¡¯ her legs crossed as she leisurely sipped her coffee. She studied Vespera for a moment before speaking in an elegant yet commanding tone. "You do have some charm, but I don¡¯t care what your intentions are or what tricks you used to get close to my son and make him insist on having you as his art teacher. Your only job is to teach him to paint¡ªnothing more. Stay in your place. Otherwise, for people like us, crushing someone like you is as easy as squashing an ant." Vespera responded calmly, "Yes, I graduated from an art academy. You can trust my skills." A smirk tugged at Elena¡¯s lips. "If I hadn¡¯t injured my hand five years ago while trying to save my husband, I would still be a renowned painter. And you? You wouldn¡¯t even be worthy of teaching my son. Just so you know, before my injury, I was one of the best in the field." With a dismissive wave, she signaled Vespera to leave and return on the weekend to begin Felix¡¯s lessons. As Vespera was about to step out of the door, Damien arrived, parking his car. She turned slightly, watching as the man she had once loved dearly entered the villa. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, she saw him embrace Elena. The affection in her gaze didn¡¯t waver, but a cold smile curled on her lips. "Do you really know your wife?" she whispered. "Or were you always in on it?" 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, Lilies?" "Lilies? 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." Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. 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. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. 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. Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. ¡°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. Quarrel Vispera felt her left cheek burning slightly from the slap. Instinctively, she tried to explain, "Madam, it''s not what you think..." But Elena forcefully cut her off, "Vispera, don''t forget your place! I paid a fortune to hire you, and this is how you teach my son?!" She shouted at Vispera while angrily grabbing Felix''s computer monitor and smashing it to the ground. The sound of shattering glass was like a heavy hammer striking Felix''s heart. He clutched his head with both hands, sobbing helplessly, "My computer..." "Someone, come here!" Before the chaos had even settled, hurried footsteps approached. Two tall and strong maids swiftly stepped forward. The leading maid firmly gripped Vispera''s right shoulder, while the other tightly seized her arms, pulling them back forcefully. No matter how much Vispera struggled, she couldn''t break free. Desperately, she tried to argue, "Madam, please listen to me, it''s not¡ª" Elena didn''t give her the chance to speak. "I saw everything, and you still dare to argue?" Her voice grew more furious, her teeth clenched as she continued, "Miss Vispera, if there''s one thing I hate the most, it''s people neglecting Felix''s education! You''re fired. Throw her out!" Panic surged through Vispera. She kicked the ground, trying to resist, but her wrists were firmly held, leaving her no chance to escape. The quarrel between the women and the sound of a child crying eventually caught Damien¡¯s attention. As he entered the house, he heard Elena¡¯s angry voice and saw the shattered fragments on the floor. His deep voice broke through the chaos, "What¡¯s going on here?" Seeing her father, Felix seemed to have found his last hope. He ran to Damien, wrapping his small hands around his father¡¯s leg, seeking comfort. Damien looked down at his son, noticing the tear stains on his face and the redness around his nose. He gently stroked the back of Felix¡¯s neck, soothing him before asking, "Felix, what happened?" Elena suddenly felt a pang of guilt. Whether at social gatherings or in front of Damien, she had always played the role of a gentle and virtuous wife. How long had he been standing there? How much had he heard? "Honey... why are you home so early today?" She quickly adjusted her tone, her lips trembling slightly, as if reverting to her usual composed and loving wife persona. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. Damien ignored her question. His voice was low and icy as he asked again, "Why was Felix crying?" Elena felt uneasy under his piercing gaze. She knew how much Damien cared for Felix. Her voice wavered as she replied, "It¡¯s Vispera. I hired her at a high price to tutor Felix, but she let him play video games instead." Vispera, still trembling, kept shaking her head in denial. "I think she''s completely unfit to be a tutor, so I decided to replace her. Felix might have just been a little scared," Elena added, her voice carrying a hint of grievance, as if she were the victim in this situation¡ªas if she hadn''t just given the harsh order to throw someone out. Damien''s gaze fell to the shattered computer monitor on the floor, and suddenly, he was lost in a memory... A pair of soft, delicate hands covered Damien¡¯s eyes. A playful, crisp voice whispered beside him, "Turn left, turn left, now turn right!" Blinded by Elena¡¯s hands, he had no choice but to rely on his sense of direction. Still, with Elena guiding him, he felt at ease. "What is this about?" he chuckled, amused. "It¡¯s a surprise for your birthday, of course! You have to celebrate it properly!" Elena teased, bringing him to a stop. "Okay, we¡¯re here! Now, keep your eyes closed¡ªno peeking!" Carefully, she placed a box on the table before him, stepping back with excitement and nervous anticipation. "Alright, open your eyes and see for yourself!" Damien slowly opened his eyes. Before him was a brand-new computer. He blinked, surprised and touched. "Do you like it?" Elena bit her lip, watching him anxiously. "You¡¯re studying computer science in college, and your old one was way too outdated! Whether it¡¯s for studying or relaxing with some games, you deserve something better. You¡¯re always so stressed¡ªyou should have a way to unwind!" Damien looked up at her eager expression, his heart filled with warmth. His eyes softened with affection. "I love it. Thank you." He pulled Elena into a gentle embrace, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. She smiled brightly, happiness radiating from her like the sun. The entire room seemed to be wrapped in the sweetness of that moment. Damien snapped back to reality. The nostalgia softened his tone as he spoke again. "Elena, you used to let me play games too. Why won¡¯t you let Felix play now?" Elena¡¯s smile was stiff, a trace of unease flickering in her eyes. "I... Damien, I¡¯m just worried that Felix is too young. He doesn¡¯t have enough self-control. If he gets addicted to gaming, it could ruin his studies. I only want what¡¯s best for our son." "Madam, you¡¯ve misunderstood me," Vispera spoke up at just the right moment. "I only encouraged Felix to observe the colors and structures in video games to help him with his artwork. I never intended for him to get distracted or lose focus on his studies." Elena immediately forced a sweet smile, her expression shifting as she clung to her fabricated misunderstanding. "Oh... so I was mistaken, Vispera. My apologies." But Damien, watching his wife closely, suddenly felt that something about her was unfamiliar¡ªas if the woman before him was no longer the Elena he once knew. Prey "Miss Vespera, you really are something. You clearly had a valid reason¡ªwhy didn¡¯t you say so earlier?" Elena shot Vespera a vicious glare, her unspoken threat hanging heavy in the air. "I..." Vespera deliberately feigned fear, playing along with Elena¡¯s intent. "It... it was my fault for not explaining clearly and causing a misunderstanding." "Since it was a misunderstanding, and now that everything is cleared up, let¡¯s put this behind us. Everyone, disperse. Felix, come, Daddy will take you to play." Damien, lost in thought, led Felix away. Inside Dr. Marcus¡¯s apartment, he pressed an ice pack against Vespera¡¯s swollen cheek, sighing. "That was too dangerous. That woman is completely insane! How could she resort to violence against you?" Vespera took the glass of water Marcus handed her and chuckled self-deprecatingly. "I once thought I knew her better than anyone. But if I hadn¡¯t taken the risk, how else would she have exposed herself? From today¡¯s outcome, I can tell Damien wasn¡¯t conspiring with her to get rid of me. And today¡­ he¡¯s finally starting to have doubts." "I haven¡¯t even thanked you yet. If it weren¡¯t for your timely delivery of that anonymous letter to Damien, I might have really been thrown out." Vespera relaxed her tone, trying to lighten the mood. You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. Marcus, still worried, said, "As soon as I got your message, I delivered it immediately. Was this a last-minute decision? It was far too risky. You can¡¯t do this again." "I realized in the evening that this was a perfect opportunity. I didn¡¯t want to let it slip away." Marcus hesitated before asking, "Since you¡¯re certain Damien isn¡¯t involved, why not just tell him you¡¯re the real Elena?" Vespera toyed with the water glass in her hand. "Damien loves ¡®Elena.¡¯ More than anyone, he trusts his wife. If someone else tells him the truth, he won¡¯t believe it. He has to discover the truth about that imposter himself." "¡®Elena¡¯¡­ When all of this is over, will you go back to Damien?" Marcus placed both hands on Vespera¡¯s shoulders, his voice filled with sincerity. "I haven¡¯t known you for long, but I want to spend the rest of my life taking care of you." Elena turned slightly away, shaking her head apologetically. "I¡¯m sorry, Marcus. I¡¯m not in the right mindset for this right now. I want to wait until everything is settled before thinking about it." She paused, then continued, "Damien and I¡­ we can never be. He and that imposter already have a child." Back at the villa, Vespera sat upright before her vanity mirror, carefully inspecting her face to ensure it had returned to its flawless state. Yet deep within, the voice of another Vespera questioned her coldly: You¡¯re too slow! These small tricks¡ªonce or twice¡ªaren¡¯t enough to shake the perfect wife image Sophia has crafted for the world. Vespera gazed at the beautiful face in the mirror, her expression indifferent as she murmured, "When a cat toys with a dying mouse, it is never because it wants to eat it." Creak¡ª KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK. The sound of knocking echoed through the room, followed by the door slowly swinging open. Someone had entered. She cast a sidelong glance at the intruder, lips curling into a faint smile. "Look¡ªprey has walked right in." Apply ointment Vespera didn¡¯t turn around as the steady footsteps approached, drawing closer until another figure appeared in the mirror¡ªone that did not belong to her. Damien placed a premium ointment gently on the vanity before speaking first. ¡°Ms. Vespera, I sincerely apologize. My wife is pregnant, and the hormonal changes have made her temper a bit short. She¡¯s not usually like this.¡± He patiently conveyed Elena¡¯s apology. ¡°I¡¯d like to apologize on her behalf.¡± Vespera lowered her eyes, her emotions unreadable. ¡°There was no need for you to come in person, Mr. Damien. Given the generous compensation you¡¯ve provided, I wouldn¡¯t easily consider leaving this job.¡± Damien chuckled lightly and leaned against the sofa, one foot resting on the ground while he casually crossed his arms. Then, in an offhand tone, he revealed his true purpose. ¡°I also hope, Ms. Vespera, that you can keep this matter to yourself. After all, for families like ours, reputation is everything.¡± A sneer formed in Vespera¡¯s heart. Ah, Damien. So this is your real purpose. I never realized you loved this woman so much that you¡¯d rather threaten others to protect her. Then why haven¡¯t you recognized that she¡¯s a FRAUD? A surge of nameless fury rose within her. Damien, Damien, my husband. The man I once loved so dearly. We walked together from our university days to the wedding altar. Seven years¡ªSEVEN YEARS! And yet, you don¡¯t recognize me at all? This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. She met Damien¡¯s expectant yet firm gaze, and her decision was made. Since you¡¯re so determined to protect her, let¡¯s see just how much you truly love her. Vespera picked up the ointment from the vanity with her right hand and casually placed it behind her back. Turning to face Damien, she said, ¡°That will cost extra.¡± ¡°What do you want?¡± he asked. ¡°What do I want?¡± Vespera elongated her words, repeating him playfully as she took slow, deliberate steps toward Damien. Then, she lightly placed the tip of her white high heel atop his polished, custom-made black leather shoe. ¡°What do I want? Anything?¡± She leaned in close, her lips almost grazing Damien¡¯s earlobe, her warm breath feathering against his skin. Damien frowned, feeling a slight discomfort. He turned his head to the side, restraining the impulse to push her away in favor of maintaining gentlemanly decorum. ¡°Ms. Vespera, you¡¯re too close. Please step back.¡± ¡°Mr. Damien, are you afraid of me?¡± she asked, sensing the slight unease in him. ¡°Ms. Vespera, I ask that you respect yourself. I am married, and I love my wife deeply.¡± His answer did not surprise her. Vespera took a small step back and lifted her gaze, her eyes now filled with feigned grievance. ¡°And yet, I took a slap from your wife for nothing today.¡± With that, she brought the ointment from behind her back and dangled it in front of Damien¡¯s eyes, a sly glint in hers. ¡°If you apply the ointment for me personally, I can forget this unpleasant incident.¡± She squeezed a small amount of the ointment onto his fingertip, then boldly took his hand, pressing it against her cheek¡ªwhere the mark had long since faded. Damien froze, allowing Vespera to manipulate his right hand. A strange sensation crept over him¡ªWhy does she feel so familiar, even though I¡¯ve never met her before? Vespera sighed dramatically, her voice tinged with amusement. ¡°Mr. Damien, the ointment applied by your distinguished hands truly works wonders.¡± Monitor The sound of objects smashing and curses filled the air, echoing relentlessly from the adjacent walk-in closet. The maid, Ava, dared not lift her head, focusing solely on polishing the desk. She had worked here for two years, yet this was the first time she had seen the lady of the house lose her composure so completely. ¡°Ahhhhhh¡ª!¡±  ¡°You wretched woman!!!¡±  ¡°Wretched! Wretched! How dare she humiliate me like this!!!! Ahhhhh!!!¡±  ¡°I lost my composure in front of Damien!!!!¡± Elena violently hurled neatly arranged clothes and hats to the floor, grabbed expensive handbags from the shelves, and flung them at the walls. Then, as if crushing Vespera¡¯s face beneath her feet, she stomped down viciously on them with her high heels. Still unsatisfied, she tore apart several silk scarves with her bare hands, her fingers turning white from the force. She panted heavily, yet the rage in her chest refused to subside. One hand pressed against the wall as her chest rose and fell erratically, the only visible trace of her recent outburst. The door swung open from the inside. Ava held her breath, quickening the pace of her cleaning as though she could make herself invisible. Elena stepped out briskly. She now carried the poised elegance of a noblewoman, as if the person who had been cursing and smashing things moments ago had never existed. With her usual warmth, Elena smiled at Ava. ¡°Apologies. Would you mind cleaning up in there?¡± The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡± Ava, relieved, stepped into the walk-in closet, where nearly everything had been tossed onto the floor. She had no time to lament the mess and immediately set to work, quickly picking up and reorganizing the items. Meanwhile, Elena¡¯s fury gradually cooled as she began to reflect. Where did things go wrong? She had always been kind to the household staff and had meticulously maintained her image as a refined socialite. Yet, ever since Vespera arrived, she had lost control¡ªtwice. The first time might have been coincidence, but the second? Absolutely not. There¡¯s something wrong with that woman. Elena paced aimlessly in her room, her mind churning. Then, her gaze landed on Ava, still cleaning up the wreckage. An idea struck her. ¡°You.¡± She pointed at Ava, her tone imperious. ¡°From now on, I want you to keep an eye on Vespera. Watch her every move. Understood?¡± ¡°M-Madam, I¡­¡± ¡°Anyone can do housekeeping. You know I don¡¯t keep useless people around.¡± ¡°¡­Yes, ma¡¯am.¡± Ava had seen Elena¡¯s dominance and the implicit threat in her words. As a single mother supporting two children, she desperately needed this well-paying job. She had no choice but to obey. Elena nodded in satisfaction. Vespera, you¡¯d better not have any ulterior motives for coming to my home. Otherwise¡­ Suddenly, something else came to mind. ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± ¡°M-Madam, my name is Ava.¡± ¡°Ava.¡± Elena smiled, but there was something cold beneath it. ¡°Find someone and send them to this address on Beach Avenue¡ªthere¡¯s a woman in the basement. Make sure she¡¯s well-fed. Don¡¯t let her die.¡± Ava¡¯s heart skipped a beat. ¡°I recall you have two children in this city, correct?¡± Elena mused. ¡°Being a single mother must be tough.¡± Ava stiffened. ¡°Remember¡ªdon¡¯t ask questions you shouldn¡¯t be asking. And if anyone asks, you know how to respond.¡± Elena¡¯s lips curled into a smirk. Ava nodded reluctantly, inwardly crying out in despair. All I wanted was to be a simple housekeeper¡­ How did I end up entangled with someone so terrifying? Bait ¡°Mr. Damien, has anyone ever told you that you have a rather distinctive scent?¡± Vespera asked in a sultry, mesmerizing tone. Damien¡¯s frown deepened. He swiftly withdrew his hand and turned his head away, refusing to look at her. ¡°Vespera, what exactly is your purpose for coming to my house?¡± Vespera remained silent, circling around him before settling onto the sofa. ¡°Mr. Damien, you truly are no fun.¡± She sighed, then casually added, ¡°Fine. Since you¡¯re so keen on preserving Mrs. Elena¡¯s reputation, then agree to one condition for me. I promise that no outsider will ever hear a word about Mrs. Elena¡¯s¡­ outburst toward the tutor.¡± This woman¡­ She was far from simple. There had to be another motive behind this. Damien exhaled a slow breath, suppressing his irritation. ¡°What condition?¡± ¡°I want access to the villa¡¯s ¡®study.¡¯¡± Damien¡¯s gaze snapped to her in shock. He turned sharply, scrutinizing her expression as if trying to decipher her true intentions through her eyes. ¡°Don¡¯t misunderstand me,¡± Vespera said smoothly. ¡°Felix was quite shaken today. I doubt he¡¯ll be able to focus on his painting practice for the next few days. I¡¯d like to take this opportunity to introduce him to some foreign art history and help build his aesthetic foundation.¡± She tossed in another tempting suggestion, her voice laced with casual persuasion. ¡°If I recall correctly, Mrs. Elena studied fine arts in the past. I imagine there must be quite a collection of relevant materials in the study.¡± Damien leaned down slightly, still unconvinced. He was certain she was hiding something. Other than occasionally using the study for work, he only kept an assortment of ordinary books there. He couldn¡¯t think of anything in that room worth her insistence on gaining access. Could she be a corporate spy from a rival company? You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. ¡°You¡¯re sure? This is really just for Felix?¡± Vespera remained calm, her response already well-prepared. ¡°I am a dedicated art teacher. Besides, the villa hired me specifically to teach Felix how to paint.¡± She added with a touch of amusement, ¡°And let¡¯s be honest¡ªI could use Felix as a walking r¨¦sum¨¦ myself. For the sake of my own future career, I wouldn¡¯t jeopardize this job.¡± ¡°If you¡¯re still uneasy, you¡¯re welcome to remove any important documents from the study beforehand.¡± Remove important documents? So she¡¯s not a corporate spy? Could it really just be about teaching Felix? Damien fell silent for a moment, observing her carefully. He decided to wait and see what tricks this woman was trying to pull. After a moment of contemplation, his deep-set eyes darkened slightly. ¡°Fine.¡± With long strides, he headed toward the door, prepared to leave the room. But just before stepping out, he halted momentarily. This woman had repeatedly attempted to stir trouble between him and Elena. His expression grew cold as he turned his head slightly and warned, ¡°Vespera, Elena and I are deeply in love. So do yourself a favor¡ªstop whatever little schemes you¡¯re playing. I¡¯m not interested.¡± With that, he walked away without looking back. Vespera merely shrugged, leaning lazily into the sofa. She watched his departing figure with a thoughtful expression before closing her eyes. The bait has been set. Now, let¡¯s see who takes the hook. She had been feeling exhausted lately. Marcus¡¯s words had left her uneasy, and she knew she had to find a way to personally visit 8 Queen Street. Since waking up, she hadn¡¯t seen her mother even once. Her father had passed away years ago, and her mother had cherished her like a precious gem. Given how much her mother doted on her, there was no way she would disappear without reason¡­ As she mulled over these thoughts, her eyelids grew heavier and heavier, until eventually, Vespera drifted into a deep sleep. Investigate "Felix, painting is all about color coordination and realistic techniques. We usually copy illustrations from books, but today, your teacher is taking you out for a live sketching session." Felix¡¯s eyes widened with excitement. "Really, teacher?" He was, after all, just a child¡ªany chance to go outside was a joy for him. Vespera gently patted his head. "Of course." She drove Felix to a tranquil lakeside. The warm sunlight shimmered over the water, and the spring breeze swayed the willow branches gently in the air. It was indeed a perfect place for sketching. Felix set up his small chair and easel, taking in the unique scent of spring. After closing his eyes to think for a moment, he started sketching with his paintbrush. From time to time, he paused, observing the scenery before him, nodding slightly before continuing his strokes. No one knew how much time had passed when¡ª "Hiss¡ª" A pained sound came from Vespera. Felix turned to see his teacher clutching her stomach, her brows furrowed, and her body slightly curled in discomfort. Concerned, he asked, "Teacher, are you feeling unwell?" "Felix, I think I ate something bad. My stomach feels a bit upset, and I need to use the restroom. Keep painting¡ªI¡¯ll check your work when I return." Seeing him nod in understanding, she gave him a reassuring smile before turning away decisively. Once out of Felix¡¯s sight, Vespera swiftly tied up her hair, put on a black mask and a baseball cap, and strode quickly toward a villa. 8 Queen Street. The moment Marcus saw her approaching, he knew it was Vespera. He didn¡¯t hesitate to meet her. "There¡¯s no one around right now. We need to move fast." This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. He pulled open the already damaged door lock. As soon as the two slipped inside, they scanned their surroundings and, making sure no one had noticed them, quietly shut the door. Vespera looked around at the familiar interior. There was no time for sentimentality¡ªthe dust in the air tickled her nose slightly. Without hesitation, she headed straight for her mother¡¯s bedroom. The room was eerily quiet, its furnishings largely unchanged. She opened the wardrobe¡ªmost of her mother¡¯s clothes were still there. Noticing the fine layer of gray dust on her fingertips, she realized this place had been abandoned for a long time. She sighed, absentmindedly making her way to her mother¡¯s study. This was where her mother, a renowned novelist known as Phoenix, used to work. Her short story Sunflowers had once taken the literary world by storm, earning her international recognition. Vespera sat in the study¡¯s chair, pressing her index finger against her temple in frustration. She had no leads. Sophia had already tried to kill her. A mother knows her child best¡­ Could it be that my mother realized I wasn¡¯t the real Elena? Did Sophia go as far as to kill my mother too? Just as she was racking her brain over the possibilities, her eyes caught sight of a striking patch of white inside the waste bin. A folded, dust-covered piece of paper. She picked it up and unfolded it, revealing a title written in familiar handwriting¡ª"Phil". The story¡¯s outline read: In a lush and thriving forest, many hardworking animals lived together. Each year, the forest faced the threat of a great flood. To prevent disaster, the animals united, working tirelessly to build a dam. While the others toiled, a mouse named Phil lurked in the dark corners of a basement, scheming for his own gain. When the flood finally came, raging waters pounded against the dam. Just when everyone thought it would collapse, a single crucial stone held firm, stabilizing the structure. As the waters receded, Phil seized his opportunity. He scurried out of the basement, leaped onto the stone, and loudly proclaimed, "It was me! I saved everyone!" The animals believed him, hailing him as the hero of the forest... But the story had no ending. Vespera recognized her mother¡¯s handwriting without a doubt. This was clearly an unfinished manuscript. Just then, Marcus solemnly patted her shoulder. "Vespera¡­ I never expected your mother to be Phoenix." His expression darkened. "But listen to me¡ªthis story, Phil, is currently being serialized online!" Panic Elena tossed her hair back, holding a Chanel haute couture clutch in one hand while her light green high heels clicked against the polished tiles. She was in high spirits, ready to drive to the beauty salon for a personalized manicure. Just as she was about to leave, a young female reporter approached with a microphone in hand, followed closely by a cameraman carrying a large video camera. The sudden encounter startled Elena, but she quickly grasped the situation. The young reporter, smiling brightly, asked, ¡°Mrs. Elena, may I ask you a few questions?¡± Elena nodded gently, responding with a composed smile. ¡°Of course.¡± ¡°Mrs. Elena, three years ago, you published the novel Phil under the pseudonym Phoenix, receiving widespread acclaim from readers. I''ve heard that Phil is approaching its grand finale. Is that true?¡± Elena brushed back a few stray strands of hair, adjusted her posture, and curved her lips into a perfectly measured smile. ¡°Yes, that¡¯s correct. I¡¯ve recently finished the ending of Phil, and it won¡¯t be long before it meets the readers.¡± ¡°Wow, that¡¯s really exciting! After finishing Phil, do you have any plans for your next novel?¡± For a brief moment, a flicker of panic flashed in Elena¡¯s eyes, but she quickly masked it with an air of confidence. ¡°Well¡­ I guess you¡¯ll just have to wait and see.¡± ¡°Understood! Thank you, Mrs. Elena, for taking the time for this interview.¡± The young reporter turned to the camera with a professional smile. ¡°Phil tells the story of a basement-dwelling rat who, through deception, manages to portray itself as a hero who saved the forest...¡± Elena turned away, her face darkening as she walked off hastily. Only she knew why. Just two days ago, she had been attending a socialite tea party, casually sipping on afternoon tea and chatting with other affluent ladies. However, Ava, her usually composed assistant, had rushed in with a panicked look. Leaning in, she whispered anxiously in Elena¡¯s ear, ¡°Madam, it¡¯s bad news¡ªthe one on Beach Avenue¡­ she was died.¡± ¡°What?!¡± Elena shot up from her seat, her brows furrowing tightly. ¡°Come with me.¡± This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Still wearing a fake, gentle smile, she turned to the other ladies. ¡°I¡¯m terribly sorry, but my child at home is being a little troublemaker and is insisting on seeing his mother. I must be off for now.¡± As they walked away, Elena¡¯s expression darkened. ¡°How the hell did this happen?¡± Ava lowered her head in submission. ¡°I brought in a doctor from a small private clinic to check on her. He said she passed due to long-term emotional distress¡ªdepression, in short.¡± She hesitated before adding, ¡°Don¡¯t worry, madam. I¡¯ve taken care of it. The doctor won¡¯t say a word to anyone.¡± On the drive to Beach Avenue, Ava found her thoughts drifting. The woman imprisoned in that basement had always seemed so pitiful. Ava had only been ordered to bring her food occasionally, but she had observed her closely¡ªher hair had turned completely white, deep wrinkles and nasolabial folds etched onto her face, time having left merciless marks. Ava shook her head. Despite her own relatively comfortable life, she couldn''t imagine what it must be like for an elderly woman to be confined in a dark, windowless basement every day. It was enough to drive anyone mad. The first time Ava had entered that basement, she had been startled by the woman¡¯s erratic behavior. The frail prisoner would mutter, ¡°My daughter¡­ my daughter¡­ where are you?¡± Sometimes, she would seem lucid, her cloudy eyes staring into space as if lost in thought. At times, she would burst into sudden laughter, clutching a pillow like an infant. Other times, she would prop her chin on her hand, lost in contemplation, before scribbling something on blank sheets of paper¡ªoutlines, as if she were writing a novel. Recalling the state she had been in at the time of her death, Ava let out a heavy sigh. These rich people are truly despicable. She didn¡¯t know the full story, but imprisoning an old woman like that was nothing short of unforgivable. And yet, with her own two children under Elena¡¯s control, she didn¡¯t have the courage to betray her. When they arrived, Ava opened the door for Elena. The woman pinched her nose in disgust before stepping inside. There, lying lifelessly on the bed, was the old woman¡ªher eyes wide open, dried tears staining the corners. The meal Ava had delivered earlier remained untouched by the bedside. But the woman was already gone. Elena shot her a look of pure disdain, waving her hand in front of her nose as if to dispel an imaginary stench. Her gaze then landed on the papers scattered across the desk, filled with writing. Excited, she picked them up¡ªonly for her face to instantly darken again. ¡°What the hell is this garbage?! Victoria, how dare you disobey me?!¡± she roared, shredding the pages into tiny pieces. Even that wasn¡¯t enough to satisfy her fury. ¡°Get rid of the body. Bury her somewhere. Just looking at her is bad luck.¡± Meanwhile, sitting in front of a television, Vispera watched Elena¡¯s interview with eyes as sharp as knives. Clenching her teeth, she seethed with rage. ¡°Sophia, you stole my life¡­ and now you¡¯re claiming my mother¡¯s work as your own. Fine. Let me show you how Phil is truly supposed to end.¡±