Chapter 4

Lydia's POV

A cold blade pressed against my cheek. The man behind me reeked of cheap tobacco and stale sweat.

His arm locked around my neck like a steel vise, trying to drag me deeper into the shadowed rose bushes.

I didn't scream. In my past life, I'd spent so long suffering in that hospital bed. Death was no stranger to me. My strong personality wasn't an act. Besides, this was the heavily guarded Vance Mansion. Anyone who could slip into the back garden at this hour without detection had to be an insider.

My mind went cold and clear. My eyes flicked to the shadows on the ground.

The man's legs were spread wide to control me.

I took a deep breath, then lifted my right foot—stiletto heel and all—and drove every ounce of my weight down onto his instep.

"Ah!" The man grunted, caught off guard. His grip loosened just a fraction.

I seized the moment. My elbow shot backward into his abdomen.

The instant he bent forward in pain, I spun around and grabbed his wrist with both hands. Using the momentum of my turn, I twisted hard.

The knife clattered onto the cobblestone path.

Without hesitation, I drove my knee up into his jaw.

The man lost his balance completely and fell backward onto the ground.

I moved fast. I kicked the knife toward myself, then crouched down, picked it up, and pressed one knee into his chest. The sharp tip of the blade hovered at his throat.

"Don't move." My voice was low, my eyes cold.

The man's eyes widened in terror. His Adam's apple bobbed.

He clearly hadn't expected a delicate heiress to fight back so viciously.

"Who sent you?" I demanded.

He clenched his jaw, trying to play dumb.

I laughed coldly and pressed the blade down another millimeter.

The sharp edge broke the skin on his neck. A drop of crimson blood welled up and slid down his throat.

"You tried to assassinate Moretti's fiancée on his estate. Do you really think you'd make it out alive even if you killed me?" My voice was soft, but ice-cold. "Tell me who's behind this, and I might give you a way out. Stay silent, and I'll slit your carotid artery right now."

Feeling the sting at his throat, the man's defenses crumbled. His voice trembled. "Don't—don't kill me! It was Ms. Percy! Ms. Percy sent me!"

Of course it was Rose, that idiot.

I couldn't help but sneer inwardly at her impatience.

It was only my first day here, and she was already trying to get rid of me. And her methods were so clumsy.

In my past life, was this the kind of stupid, vicious woman who drove Freya to her death? How pathetic.

"Good." I smiled and slowly lifted the knife from his neck. Then, unexpectedly, I pressed the handle back into his hand.

The man froze. He looked at me like I was insane. He held the knife awkwardly in midair. "What... what are you doing?"

"Stand up." I rose gracefully, dusting off my black dress. I looked down at him. "Now, take that knife and hold me hostage."

"What?!" The man's eyes nearly popped out of his head.

"Are you deaf? I said hold me hostage. Take me to Moretti." I narrowed my eyes, my tone brooking no argument. "If you don't do as I say, I'll scream for help right now. And you can guess whether Moretti's guards will listen to your excuses or just shoot you full of holes."

The man weighed his options. His face went pale. He scrambled to his feet.

His hand trembled as he gripped the knife. He loosely looped his arm around my neck from behind, the blade barely touching my skin.

"Steady your hand. Get closer. Don't actually hurt me, but don't let anyone see through it either. Otherwise, you're dead tonight." I warned him in a low voice.

The man swallowed and adjusted his position. In this strange posture, we slowly emerged from the shadows of the flower bushes.

As soon as we reached the main path, I saw Moretti approaching with the butler, Brady, and several bodyguards in black.

He'd changed into a black silk shirt, the collar open casually. The night breeze ruffled his short hair. He radiated a dangerous, magnetic presence.

When the guards saw me being "held hostage," they instantly drew their guns. A series of sharp clicks echoed as they cocked their weapons. Dark barrels pointed straight at us.

Moretti stopped. His deep eyes narrowed slightly. He didn't look panicked. He didn't even frown. He just watched the scene unfold with the cold, detached gaze of a predator.

"Let her go." Moretti's voice was low and calm, but laced with bone-chilling authority.

I immediately dropped my cold demeanor. I squeezed out a few tears, put on a terrified expression, and called out in a trembling voice, "Moretti! Save me! He said he's going to cut up my face!"

The killer behind me played along perfectly. His hand shook like a leaf, his voice quavering. "Don't—don't come any closer! Come closer and I'll kill her!"

"Who gave you the nerve to touch my woman on my estate?" Moretti took a slow step forward. His leather shoes clicked against the stone path. Each step sounded like a countdown to death.

The killer's legs went weak. Following the script I'd fed him earlier, he shouted hoarsely, "It was Ms. Percy! She paid me to ruin Ms. Spencer's face and drive her out of the mansion! Mr. Vance, I was just doing a job! Please spare me!"

At the mention of Rose's name, Moretti stopped in his tracks.

A flicker of something complicated crossed his eyes. His lips pressed into a thin line. Then he fell into a suffocating silence.

The air around us seemed to freeze.

I watched Moretti's reaction carefully.

He didn't immediately order his men to shoot. He didn't explode in rage either.

That silence made my heart sink slightly.

Did he care about Rose? Or was he trying to figure out if this was true? Either way, tonight I had to strip away Rose's fake innocence.

"Brady." After a long pause, Moretti finally spoke, his voice cold as ice. "Bring Rose here."

"Yes, sir." Brady turned and hurried off.

Less than five minutes later, Rose came rushing over.

She wore an expensive silk nightgown with a knit cardigan thrown over it. Her hair was disheveled. She'd clearly just been pulled out of bed.

When she ran up in her slippers and saw me "held hostage" by the killer, surrounded by armed guards, she froze. Panic flashed through her eyes. But she quickly masked it with an innocent expression.

"Moretti, what's going on? In the middle of the night..."