Evelyn paced the floor of her guest room. She clutched her silk robe tightly around her body. Her face was chalk-white. Arthur had just delivered Brennen's ultimatum.
If Brennen didn't get a logical explanation by sunrise, the Hickman family would have to return the massive dowry and pay millions in breach-of-contract penalties. They would be bankrupt.
Evelyn ground her teeth. A flash of pure, desperate madness crossed her eyes. She picked up the hem of her robe, dodged the patrolling bodyguards, and slipped down the back stairs to the basement.
The servant quarters were damp and freezing. Aracely had just finished fourteen hours of manual labor. She sat on her hard mattress, rubbing her aching shoulders.
The flimsy wooden door slammed open, hitting the wall with a loud bang.
Evelyn stormed in. Before Aracely could stand, Evelyn raised her hand and slapped Aracely across the face. The crack echoed in the small room.
Aracely's head snapped to the side. A drop of blood pooled at the corner of her mouth. She didn't hit back. She just stared at Evelyn with cold, dead eyes.
"You useless piece of trash!" Evelyn screamed. "You couldn't even keep him hooked! Now he's coming for me!"
Aracely wiped the blood from her lip. "You soaked yourself in cheap perfume and threw yourself at him. Don't blame me for your stupidity."
Evelyn's face twisted in rage. She pulled out her phone. She dialed the ICU nurse on video chat.
The screen lit up. Grandmother's frail face appeared, surrounded by tubes and the rhythmic beep of the machines.
Evelyn glared at the screen. "When I count to three, pull the breathing tube."
Aracely's pupils shrank. She lunged forward to grab the phone. Evelyn stepped back quickly.
"Three!" Evelyn shouted. Her eyes were wild.
Aracely froze. Her fists clenched so hard her fingernails broke the skin. Drops of blood hit the concrete floor.
"Two!" Evelyn's finger hovered over the red 'end call' button.
Aracely closed her eyes. Hot tears burned her cheeks. She forced the words out of her tight throat. "I'll do it."
Evelyn smiled in triumph. She hung up the phone. She threw a black silk nightgown-identical to the one from the wedding night-at Aracely's face.
"If you don't satisfy him tonight and clear his suspicions, the old lady dies tomorrow." Evelyn turned and walked out.
Aracely stood alone in the freezing room. Her hands shook as she picked up the thin silk.
She walked into the tiny bathroom. She looked at the ugly scar in the mirror. She grabbed a bottle of strong solvent.
She rubbed the harsh chemical over the edges of the silicone. The skin underneath burned and tore as she peeled the fake scar off. Her true, flawless face was revealed.
She washed her face with freezing water. She pulled the black silk nightgown over her head. The cold fabric made her shiver uncontrollably.
Aracely opened her door. She didn't rely on anyone else. Relying entirely on her own sharp memory of the estate's layout, which she had meticulously memorized while cleaning over the past few days, she carefully navigated the shadows. She stuck strictly to the less-monitored servant staircases and service corridors.
The hallway was empty. Arthur had pulled the guards to the security room to check the footage.
Aracely stood in front of the heavy oak doors of the master bedroom. Her heart hammered against her ribs. She took a deep breath to steady her shaking hands.
She reached out. Her fingers wrapped around the cold metal handle. She pressed down.
The lock clicked. She pushed the door open an inch. It was pitch black inside.
Before she could step in, the door was violently yanked open from the inside.
A massive, burning hot hand shot out of the dark. It clamped around her wrist and dragged her brutally into the suffocating darkness of the room. The door slammed shut behind her.
