Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
Evelyn
I hadn't kept down a full meal in three days.
Acid gnawed at my esophagus without mercy.
Those delicate French soups and medium-rare steaks—the second they hit my tongue, they triggered dry heaves I couldn't control.
I'd lock myself in the bathroom, kneel on the cold tile in front of the toilet, and retch up whatever acid remained in my stomach.
My hand moved to my flat stomach. Inside me was the child of my father's killer.
Those high-resolution autopsy photos on the computer screen stabbed into my brain again without warning. My father's face—once commanding—had been tortured beyond recognition, muscle tissue brutally torn apart.
Victor was a born liar. A complete psychopath. And I'd been stupid enough to fall for his fake tenderness not long ago. I'd even defended him to that bitch Caroline, convinced he had his reasons.
I was a goddamn joke.
But I knew now wasn't the time to fall apart.
Tears wouldn't save my life. If I stayed in this manor, at the center of Victor's mafia empire where he controlled everything, I'd end up just like my father.
Once he confirmed I had no more value, or once he tired of this cat-and-mouse game, my fate was already written. He'd dispose of me like a bag of trash.
I had to get out. I had to survive—to uncover the truth, to send this devil to hell, and for the child in my belly.
Over the next few days, I completely changed tactics.
I stopped rising to Caroline's bait. No matter how she provoked me, she'd eventually get bored and walk away. The maids in the manor quickly noticed the change. They'd never liked me anyway, always believed I was a con artist who'd slept her way up.
Now, seeing me so meek and pliable, they grew even more dismissive and arrogant. The tea they served was always lukewarm, the room cleaning sloppier, and in the hallways, they'd pass without even basic greetings.
I took it all. I didn't have the energy for their petty games anymore.
I had only one job: escape.
Another Thursday. The sunlight was blinding.
Like always, I wrapped myself in a cashmere shawl and walked the back garden lawn.
Two maids trailed ten paces behind, chatting idly about weekend parties.
I kept my head down, pretending to study the daisies, but my peripheral vision scanned the manor's tall iron fence and patrol posts.
At the side gate, maybe fifty yards away, a man in an outer guard uniform caught my eye.
He was bent over, clearing leaves from the lawn, his cap pulled low, hiding most of his face. His uniform didn't fit right—shoulders hung loose, back slightly hunched. Everything about him screamed exhaustion and stiffness.
What made me stop was his stance. He habitually shifted his weight to his left leg, right foot turned slightly outward.
My heart skipped a beat. Blood rushed to my head. My fingertips went numb.
That build. That stance. I couldn't be wrong. Ten years ago in Brooklyn, he'd taken a bullet for my father. His right leg never fully recovered.
That was Benjamin.
Benjamin was my father's most loyal man. He was like a father to me. He'd watched me grow from a little girl with pigtails into who I was now. And in the end, he and my father had both vanished outside Victor's manor.
But now he was alive.
Hope blazed in my chest, but I bit my tongue, forcing down the scream building in my throat.
I knew countless eyes were watching me. If I showed any excitement, Benjamin would be riddled with bullets in seconds. We'd both be dead.
I took a deep breath, forced my shoulders to relax, and kept walking at the same steady pace. At the corner closest to the side gate where Benjamin stood, I suddenly stopped.
I doubled over, clutching my stomach, letting out a pained groan. I tensed my face deliberately, making it look twisted in agony. I dropped to the grass, curling up like a shrimp, gasping for air.
The sudden crisis sparked chaos.
"Miss Gray!" The two maids behind me jumped, faces going pale, rushing forward in panic. They hated me, sure, but if something happened to me on their watch, they'd pay.
"My stomach... it hurts." I bit my lip, faking unbearable pain.
"Get the doctor! Notify the butler! Now!" one maid shrieked at the other. The formation broke instantly. Several patrol guards in the distance turned to look.
In those chaotic seconds, while everyone's attention was fixed on me, I looked toward the side gate through the gap in the maid's arms.
Benjamin had turned toward the commotion, too. He lifted his cap slightly. That weathered face, covered in stubble, fully visible now.
We locked eyes in silence. Then he nodded toward the west wing corridor.
He understood. After days of lurking, he'd clearly found that surveillance blind spot too.
"I don't need a doctor." I panted heavily, grabbing the nearest maid's wrist. I forced a look of restraint, grinding out the words, "Help me up. I need the bathroom."
The maid winced but didn't dare disobey. She awkwardly hauled me off the ground. I leaned most of my weight on her, dragging my feet heavily toward the west wing corridor.
The moment we reached the marble surveillance blind spot, I straightened and shoved her away.
"Wait outside. I don't want anyone watching me piss."
The maid snorted, muttering something about who'd want to, then quickly turned her back, standing in the lit area outside the corridor.
The second she left, fabric rustled from the shadows on the other side of the pillar.
A tall shadow fell over me. I turned. In the corridor's dim light, Benjamin's haggard face was inches away.
"Evelyn." His voice shook uncontrollably, thick with emotion. The man who'd never flinched under gunfire now had red-rimmed eyes brimming with tears.
I bit my lip until I tasted blood, refusing to let a sob escape. Tears streamed down my face anyway. My hand trembled as I grabbed Benjamin's rough sleeve.
"Uncle Benjamin," I whispered desperately, voice breaking. "Where's my father? Tell me what happened to him."
"Victor." Benjamin forced the name through clenched teeth, each syllable dripping with venom. "That devil in human skin. He wanted the black book's secrets all to himself. He ambushed us at the manor gates and kidnapped us. He hung me from a rusted frame, made me watch with my eyes open."
Benjamin's tears dropped onto his hands, his voice warping with pain and hatred.
"He did it himself, Evelyn. That animal didn't use a gun.
He used a knife and carved Mr. Richard piece by piece.
Your father never broke. He was choking on his own blood when he ordered me to escape, to protect you.
That bastard tortured him to death and dumped his body in the ocean like garbage. "
My brain exploded with a deafening buzz. Something shattered inside my skull.
Every word Benjamin said matched perfectly with those high-resolution autopsy photos I'd seen on Victor's computer.
My legs gave out. My knees slammed into the marble. Benjamin caught my shoulders, pinning me against the wall before I collapsed completely.
The truth laid bare, bloody and raw. To Victor, it was all a game. He'd been playing me the whole time.
He'd watched me pant beneath my father's killer. Watched me carry his child. He must have laughed himself sick at how stupid and pathetic I was.
Nausea hit me hard. Acid surged into my throat. But rising with it came rage—more potent than poison, impossible to contain.
"I barely escaped their dungeon alive." Benjamin roughly wiped the tears from his face. "I came back to find a way to get you out. Evelyn, you can't stay here. Stay with this devil and he'll devour you, bones and all. Come with me. Now."
I was about to respond when a mocking laugh echoed from the shadows around the corner.
Benjamin spun fast, instinctively reaching for the small of his back. I knew he always kept a gun there.
"Easy, gardener. Put that rusty toy away."
Sharp heels clicked against marble as Caroline emerged from the shadows.
She'd clearly been standing there a while. The maid who should've been outside the pillar had mysteriously vanished. In this manor, Caroline's privileges were enough to dismiss any servant.
She'd heard everything. Our entire conversation. Our escape plan.
My heart plummeted. My blood ran cold. We were done. If Caroline screamed now or hit the wall alarm, Benjamin and I would be fertilizer in the back garden by tonight.
Benjamin drew his gun, barrel aimed at Caroline's forehead. He pulled back the safety. His eyes promised murder.
Caroline wasn't fazed by the gun at all.
"Don't do anything stupid. Pull that trigger and Victor's personal guard will shred you both in ten seconds." Caroline clicked closer in her heels, stopping two steps away.
I stared at her coldly. Silent.
"Don't look at me like a dead fish." Caroline sneered. "I have zero interest in ratting to Victor. I don't give a damn whether you two insects live or die. In fact, watching you—a lying whore carrying some bastard from who knows where—finally get the hell out of my manor? Absolutely delicious."
Hearing that, a flicker of light sparked in my dead eyes. Caroline hated me. She wanted me gone from Victor's world more than anyone.
"What do you want? Cut the crap." I met her malicious gaze head-on.
"I'm offering you a real way out." Her tone dripped with condescension. "I can get you both out of here."
Caroline's bait was too tempting. But I knew this calculating woman who'd clawed her way through high society never played charity.
"What's your condition?" I asked coldly, voice flat.
Caroline leaned in close. Her heavy, expensive perfume flooded my nostrils, triggering physical revulsion. Her eyes turned viciously hostile, like a snake baring fangs.
"My condition is very simple." Caroline lowered her voice, each word a poisoned blade in my ear.
"You take that little bastard in your belly and disappear from this world.
Forever. Completely. You don't contact Victor.
You don't set foot in New York again. I want you to never appear in front of him. Ever."
I almost laughed. She thought I'd pine for my father's killer? She thought I'd cling to this blood-soaked manor?
"Deal." I met her gaze without hesitation, my tone colder and more ruthless than hers. "I swear I never want to see Victor's disgusting face again."