Chapter 3
1020words
After what felt like an eternity of frozen terror, the footsteps unexpectedly grew more distant—was it just a passing servant, or some sinister warning?
She had no way of knowing, but that feeling of being watched, of being calculated against, followed her like a shadow from then on, making every shadow in the Deville mansion seem to hide danger.
The only gain from that venture was heavy and certain: her sister Emily's death was by no means an accident.
That desperate painting, that unfamiliar emblem, were branded in her mind like a searing mark.
The urgency of the investigation grew with each passing day, but she was also clearer than ever that she was in danger.
However, another completely unexpected event disrupted all her plans.
Her period was late.
At first she attributed it to stress, but the persistent nausea and drowsiness forced her to face a shocking possibility.
She quietly obtained a pregnancy test. When those unmistakable two red lines appeared, Elsie felt as if the floor beneath her feet had suddenly vanished.
A child. Sebastian's child.
In an instant, a strange and gentle warmth stemming from life itself flowed through her cold heart, the only pure connection in her solitary struggle.
But in the next moment, overwhelming fear and bewilderment engulfed her.
This child was an enormous, unexpected variable on her path of revenge, binding her to the Deville Family in the most profound way.
What should she do? Tell Sebastian? No, how could she trust that panicked man in the studio, that family that might have caused her sister's death?
Keeping the child meant she would never be able to completely escape this quagmire.
An unprecedented vulnerability, one that belongs only to a mother, was born at this moment.
She struggled with this tremendous contradiction for days, unable to eat or sleep properly, her hand sometimes caressing her belly protectively, sometimes trembling with fear.
The thoughts of leaving or staying waged a fierce battle in her mind, leaving her mentally exhausted.
And it was precisely when she was tossing and turning over the fate of the new life in her womb, at her most restless moment, that the anonymous letter arrived, as if timing its appearance perfectly.
No postmark, no signature. A plain white envelope, quietly lying beneath the newspapers delivered to her room daily. On the envelope, printed neatly in cold typeface—"For Ms. Elsie Lane."
Her heart sank suddenly, her blood running cold. In this mansion, everyone only called her "Miss Emily." The people who knew her real name could be counted on one hand, and definitely did not include anyone who would contact her in this manner.
She locked her door, tore open the envelope with trembling fingertips. Inside was just a single sheet of paper of the same quality, with a succinct warning:
"Stop the investigation now. If you don't want to follow in Emily's footsteps, leave quietly."
The cold words were like poisoned daggers, striking directly at vital points. The person not only knew her true name but clearly knew she was investigating in secret! "Emily's footsteps"... this was an explicit death threat.
Anger and fear intertwined, almost suffocating her. She gripped the letter tightly, her knuckles turning white. Just as she was about to crumple it, sunlight from outside caught the paper at a particular angle.
A faint watermark appeared.
Elsie froze, quickly bringing the paper close to her eyes against the light. It was a small, clearly defined pattern—a twisted, spiked circular emblem.
Identical to the one in the corner of Emily's horrifying painting!
The evidence was conclusive. This threatening letter and her sister's desperate painting left before her death were irrefutably connected through this identical heraldic emblem. The power behind this emblem not only killed Emily but now also aimed its spearhead at her!
When she saw the heraldic watermark on the letter paper that matched the one in the painting, all hesitation instantly vanished. This wasn't a choice, but a declaration of war.
She instinctively protected her belly with her hands. Her thoughts, chaotic just moments ago, were now exceptionally clear and cold as ice.
She must leave. Now, immediately.
Revenge was important, truth was important. But at this moment, protecting the innocent little life in her womb had become the overriding principle above all else.
She could no longer stay in this magnificent cage, where danger lurked everywhere, where eyes in the shadows were not only watching her but threatening her child.
She had become a mother, with an absolute vulnerability she could not afford to lose.
Leaving wasn't about giving up, but about continuing more safely.
The investigation had to go underground. She needed to disappear, to give birth to her child in a place unknown to others, to gather her strength anew.
Elsie walked to the fireplace, struck a match, and watched the flames devour that cold warning and strange emblem, turning them to ashes. Yet her gaze was more determined than ever before.
She was no longer just a sister seeking revenge for her sibling.
Now, she was a mother who must protect her child.
This new identity added resolve to her caution, transforming her fear into an even stronger force.
She began to discreetly plan her escape. The jewelry and savings given to her by the Deville Family became the means to her freedom.
She needed a new identity, a city far away from all of this.
Who sent the warning? Was it Sebastian? Or the person outside the door that night at the studio? Or a deeper force represented by that emblem? How did they track her movements so precisely?
These questions lingered, but the answers no longer mattered. The urgent priority was to leave.
Elsie stood by the window, gazing at the imposing main gate.
What was once a symbol of confinement now became an exit she must breach. For Emily, and more importantly, for the child in her womb.
A silent escape began.
The roles of hunter and prey were completely reversed in this moment.
