Chapter 5

Lydia's POV

Rose walked over to Moretti and instinctively reached out to take his arm.

Moretti shifted slightly, avoiding her hand without hesitation. He turned his head, his gaze cold. "He says you hired him to ruin Lydia's face."

Rose's face turned deathly pale.

She whipped around and pointed at the killer, her voice sharp and shrill. "You're lying! I don't even know you! Moretti, don't believe a word he says!"

Under my silent, threatening glare, the killer stuck to his story. "Ms. Percy, you can't throw me under the bus like this! You gave me a stack of cash and this knife half an hour ago in the hallway on the second floor! You said if I got the job done, you'd give me another fifty thousand dollars and arrange for me to leave Sicily!"

"You're lying! You're slandering me!" Rose stamped her foot in fury. Tears spilled down her cheeks like broken pearls.

She turned to Moretti, her expression pitiful, her voice choked with sobs. "Moretti, we grew up together. Don't you know what kind of person I am? I wouldn't even step on an ant. How could I hire someone to kill?"

Then, as if she'd suddenly realized something, she whirled around and glared at me. Her eyes were full of venom and rage.

"I know what this is! It's you!" Rose's finger trembled as she pointed at me. "Lydia, you staged this whole thing, didn't you? You didn't like me from the moment you got here this morning. So tonight you hired someone to act out this scheme and frame me. You want Moretti to get rid of me!"

Rose sobbed pitifully. She stepped forward and grabbed Moretti's sleeve, turning the tables on me. "Moretti, don't let this woman fool you! She's only been here one day and she's already pulled off something this vicious. She even put her own life on the line just to drive me out! She's so cruel!"

Watching Rose cry hysterically, I almost applauded her in my head.

That performance? If she were in Hollywood, she'd win Best Supporting Actress at the Oscars, no question.

In my past life, my gentle, naive sister Freya was driven to her death by this exact act—this pitiful, manipulative facade.

All those years of accumulated grievances and despair turned into depression and swallowed Freya's young life whole.

Too bad for Rose, the person standing in front of her now wasn't Freya. It was me—Lydia, who crawled back from hell with nothing but vengeance and the need to protect my family.

I dropped the terrified expression from my face. The curve of my lips turned cold.

Under everyone's shocked gazes, I raised my hand and tapped the killer's arm impatiently. He was still holding the knife to my throat.

"Alright, stop shaking. Hold the knife steady." My voice was low, laced with undisguised mockery.

The killer froze. He clearly hadn't kept up with my sudden shift in mood.

I ignored him and turned my gaze to Moretti. A flicker of amusement crossed his deep eyes. He'd obviously seen through the cracks in this performance. He was just waiting to see how I'd finish it.

"Ms. Percy, you have quite the imagination." I laughed coldly, my gaze slicing across her fake face like a blade. "But don't you think you're underestimating this killer? Do you really think someone in this business would risk their life on a few verbal promises without keeping some insurance?"

Rose's crying stopped abruptly. Panic flashed through her eyes. "What... what do you mean?"

I glanced over my shoulder at the killer, my voice cold as ice. "What are you waiting for? Show them the 'employment contract' she gave you. If you can't produce evidence, you're dead tonight. And I'll make sure you die ugly."

The killer shuddered. By now, he fully understood that the woman in the black dress was far more terrifying than the crying, manipulative Rose.

He swallowed hard and fumbled in his pocket with his free hand.

"I have it! I have proof!" The killer grabbed onto this lifeline like it was his last hope. He pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper and a brown envelope stuffed with cash. He held them out with trembling hands. "Ms. Percy gave these to me herself! The envelope has fifty thousand dollars—my down payment. This paper has detailed instructions to cut up Ms. Spencer's face. And at the bottom... at the bottom is her signature and the Percy family's wax seal!"

The moment those words left his mouth, the air around us dropped to freezing.

Rose's face went white as a sheet. She screamed and lunged forward, trying to snatch the paper. "You're lying! Give me that! Give me that forged paper!"

"Stop her." Moretti's voice was ice-cold.

Two bodyguards immediately stepped forward and pinned Rose in place like she weighed nothing.

Butler Brady walked up, took the paper and envelope from the killer, and respectfully handed them to Moretti.

Moretti lowered his eyes and looked at the paper.

The night breeze stirred. I could even smell the faint trace of Chanel No. 5 lingering on the paper—Rose's signature perfume.

The handwriting was elegant but venomous. In the bottom right corner, the dark red wax seal of the Percy family stood out sharply under the dim streetlights.

The lie crumbled in the face of hard evidence.

Moretti's expression turned completely cold. Those bottomless eyes churned with a chilling menace.

He crumpled the paper into a ball and tossed it carelessly onto the cobblestones at his feet, as if it were something disgusting.

"Moretti... let me explain... it's not what you think..." Rose stared at the crumpled paper on the ground. Her whole body trembled. Her voice broke into a desperate sob.

Moretti didn't even look at her. He simply lifted his chin slightly, his tone final and ruthless. "Throw her out. From now on, the Percy family is banned from setting foot in this mansion."

"Yes, sir." The guards immediately obeyed, grabbing Rose by the arms and dragging her toward the gate.

"No! No!" Rose completely fell apart. She struggled wildly. Her knees buckled, and she collapsed heavily onto the cold stone path.