The night, filled with the mysterious whispers of a servant sneaking into her room, still haunted Vanessa, her mind churning with plans to crush the traitors in this house. Now, in the spacious room cooled by a central air system, she sat gracefully at her vanity, brushing her long hair with slow, deliberate strokes, as if holding back the storm raging within her chest. The chandelier's light glinted off the mirror, illuminating her cold yet captivating face, like an ice statue harboring a smoldering vendetta. This modern mansion, with its glass walls and marble floors, felt like a palace cradling dark secrets. The faint scent of her sweet yet sharp perfume mingled with the cool air, creating a tense, suffocating atmosphere.
"What do you want to talk about?" she asked, her voice calm but cutting, like a blade hidden beneath silk, each word chosen to intimidate.
The servant before her, standing with clenched fists, seemed hesitant. Her eyes fixed on the floor, as if searching for courage in the cracks of the marble. Finally, she took a heavy breath and said, "Um, honestly… my name isn't Silvia. It's Diana Laurent. I've… been a spy in your family for a long time." Her voice trembled, yet carried a resolve, like someone who knew their life hung by a thread. Her fingers gripped the hem of her uniform until they whitened, a small gesture betraying her fear.
'Hmm, a bold confession,' Vanessa thought, her eyes narrowing, suppressing a cynical smile. In her previous life, as a frail old woman betrayed and poisoned, she never imagined facing such a moment in her youthful 27 year old body. The daughter of a prostitute named Cymia, raised by the warmth of Melody and Agran, she had learned early not to trust anyone, except her family. Yet, even family could wield a knife, as she discovered through Sylviana's betrayal.
"Diana Laurent? So… you're the infamous assassin on the rise, aren't you? 'The Blood Whisper'?" Vanessa asked, feigning surprise as she set her brush down with elegance, eyeing Diana through the mirror's reflection, her gaze like an eagle stalking prey.
"Yes, Madam," Diana replied curtly, her face hard as stone, though her eyes occasionally darted to the side, as if fearing the glass walls could hear.
Vanessa let out a long sigh, as if pondering, but her chest trembled with suppressed rage. The cool air in the room made her skin prickle, yet her face remained calm, like the surface of a lake hiding a raging current beneath. "I don't care why you're confessing tonight… but I want to know one thing: aren't you afraid I'll end your life? You know the punishment for betrayal in the Locany and Caspian families, don't you?" Her smile was thin, cold, like poison wrapped in honey.
"I know… but in the end, I'd die anyway, wouldn't I?" Diana countered, her voice laced with resignation but with a defiant spark in her eyes. Her hands tensed, sweat beading on her palms.
"What do you mean?" Vanessa asked, her brow arching, but her eyes remained sharp, unwavering.
"Hm? Why pretend you don't know? Aren't you planning to expose all our betrayals?" Diana tilted her head politely, her eyes locking onto Vanessa's, brimming with courage despite her trembling lips, as if bearing the weight of a secret too heavy to hold.
Vanessa let out a small laugh, the sound like a cracked glass bell. "As they say, 'The Blood Whisper' is unmatched, isn't she?" she said, her faint smile of admiration laced with menace. "…I was wrong to underestimate you." In her previous life, she learned the hard way that underestimating an enemy was a fatal mistake, a lesson carved into her by Cymia and Sylviana, the two women who shattered her existence.
"My skills are nothing compared to yours. If only… I hadn't gone to the bathroom that night, I wouldn't have seen you in the kitchen," Diana said with a small smile, as if the incident were a silly coincidence. Her fingers unconsciously touched the bracelet on her wrist, as if seeking comfort in the storm.
'So it was just a fluke? I thought she was more than an ordinary assassin,' Vanessa thought, reassessing Diana. She set her brush down softly, crossing her slender legs and folding her arms, exuding total dominance. "Hmm, I see… so what should I do with you now?" she said, her voice like a chilling night breeze.
Diana stiffened, her mouth trembling, sweat dampening her forehead despite the cool room. "I-I actually have a young child out there," she said, her voice breaking, almost pleading, her eyes filled with fear yet clinging to a sliver of hope.
"You think that will change your punishment?" Vanessa snapped, her voice steady but brimming with menace, like a sword poised to strike. "After you all conspired to harm my son, poisoned me, and separated me from Raven by lying that I refused to leave my room?" The name Raven jolted her heart, her face remaining cold, but her eyes flashed with a wound that never healed,the love Sylviana stole from her in her past life, leaving her old body in loneliness and agony.
Diana's face paled, her eyes widening, her hands gripping the edge of the table until her knuckles whitened. "I know. I won't run from my sins… but that child… he's a bastard. I had him after being assaulted. The punishment for traitors in this family is to silently kill the culprit and their kin, so…" Her voice broke, tears welling in her eyes, but she held them back with effort.
Vanessa stared at Diana, her heart wavering for a moment at the thought of Roni, her own son, but her face remained impassive. "So you want that child to live? You know that's just a hassle, don't you? You also know I'm a woman who shows no mercy, especially to children," she said, her voice like sweet poison, though inside, the image of Roni shook her resolve.
"Yes, that's why… I offer you vital information," Diana said, her voice suddenly firm, though her hands still trembled, as if forcing herself to defy fear.
"How vital?" Vanessa asked, her smile fading, replaced by a gaze that could pierce the soul.
"You want to know who your missing birth mother is, don't you?" Diana replied quickly, cutting to the chase, her eyes gleaming with hope despite her pale face.
Vanessa froze, the name Cymia stabbing her heart like a dagger. Her fingers tapped the vanity, the soft clinks echoing in the silent room, mirroring her racing heartbeat. 'Cymia… the prostitute who destroyed my childhood, who stole my life in my past existence,' she thought, rage burning her chest until it felt tight. "Fine," she said firmly, her voice cold but laced with a tremor of emotion. "If you can provide that information, I won't just let your child live I'll pay someone to care for them well."
Diana's face lit up, as if seeing sunlight after a long darkness, though her eyes still held uncertainty. But Vanessa continued, her voice like a whip, "But… if the information is false, I won't kill that child. I'll make them hate their mother for bringing them into this world." Her finger pointed to her mouth, her smile a veiled threat, her eyes blazing with unyielding vengeance.
Diana swallowed hard, cold sweat dampening her neck, her hands clutching her bracelet as if it might snap. "Now, first question: who's the mastermind behind you servants, and why did they do it?" Vanessa asked, her voice low but heavy, making the air feel suffocating.
Diana paused, her breath ragged, but then sat up straight, though her hands trembled. "The one who ordered us was… Madam Sylviana."
"S-Sylviana? My mother-in-law?!" Vanessa repeated, her eyes widening briefly before sharpening again, her voice cold as ice, but her chest roiled with fury. Memories of her past life crashed over her: her frail old body, lying in bed, surrounded by the whispers of servants slowly poisoning her, while Sylviana smiled behind a mask of kindness, stealing Raven from her. "Very interesting," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm, her hand gripping her brush until her knuckles whitened.
"Yes. She did it because she doesn't like you being close to Master Raven. She feels you're stealing her beloved son," Diana explained, her voice steady despite the tension, her eyes occasionally darting to the door, as if fearing Sylviana might emerge from the shadows.
"Ha, and yet she's the one who forced me to marry her son. Now that old hag wants to tear us apart, what a hypocrite," Vanessa muttered, every word laced with venom. The name Raven pierced her heart, a weakness she despised but couldn't escape. 'Raven… you're the only one I love, but Sylviana took you from me once, and I won't let it happen again,' she thought, her eyes flashing with a mix of love and vengeance.
"But… I'm not actually her subordinate," Diana added, her voice suddenly firm, startling Vanessa. Her fingers stopped clutching her bracelet, as if finding new courage.
"What? Then who?" Vanessa asked, her curiosity ignited, but her eyes remained sharp, wary.
"I'm under the orders of Madam Melody and Master Agran," Diana replied, her voice steady, her eyes soft, as if knowing the impact of those names on Vanessa.
Vanessa froze, her breath catching, her heart seeming to stop. The names Melody and Agran hit her like a storm, stirring warm yet painful memories: Melody's gentle hugs, Agran's loving laughter, the only family who ever gave her love amidst a childhood scarred by pain. Her eyes glistened with tears she hated, and she quickly turned her face, hiding the weakness she cursed. "They… still care about me?" she asked, her voice breaking for a moment before she forced her cold tone back, her hand gripping the chair's armrest until it creaked.
"No, I swear! Here's the proof!" Diana showed the bracelet on her wrist and a paper tucked inside, her hands trembling but her eyes resolute as she handed it over.
Vanessa examined it closely, her fingers brushing the paper like touching a memory, feeling the rough texture of old paper that carried the scent of the past. 'Melody's handwriting,' she thought, her chest tight with a mix of longing and guilt for drifting away from them. Tears nearly fell, but she bit her lip, forcing herself to stay strong. "They're very worried about you. After your marriage, you never contacted them," Diana explained, her voice soft, her eyes full of empathy.
Vanessa clutched the paper to her chest, as if embracing Melody and Agran, her heart shaken by their kindness. "I see," she said softly, her voice thick with emotion she despised but couldn't control. She quickly turned her face, forcing herself back to her cold mask. 'I can't be weak… not now,' she thought, her rage toward Sylviana and Cymia burning away her vulnerability.
Diana gave a small smile, sensing Vanessa's soul cracking, though the glint of madness still flickered in her eyes. 'If I weren't afraid of her wrath, I'd have spoken sooner,' Diana thought, regretful.
At three in the morning, the air grew colder, the sound of night wind creeping through the window's gap, carrying the faint scent of wet earth. Vanessa stared at Diana with an impassive face, but her eyes were a storm. "So… who is that woman, really?" she asked, her voice cold as ice, but a tremor of rage seeped through.
"As far as I know, her name is Cymia. Her full name was never revealed. She was a thief disguised as a prostitute, and many men she slept with ended up as corpses," Diana explained, touching her chin as if digging through memories, her eyes narrowing as she tried to recall details.
Vanessa stiffened, the name Cymia like a jolt to her chest. "I know about those murders. I saw them myself when I was four to seven years old. It was normal to me," she said, staring at the mirror, her face unmoving, but her eyes blazing with hatred. The faint scent of blood from her past seemed to sting her nose again, the memory of Cymia dousing her with boiling water making her hand grip the vanity until it creaked. "The daughter of a prostitute," she muttered, her voice thick with bitterness, "and she left this burn scar on my back." Her fingers touched her back, feeling the rough, wide texture of the burn scar that still felt hot in her memory, as if the fire still seared her skin.
"So you know her better than I do?" Diana asked, her brow rising, her curious tone mixed with empathy.
"I don't know. She wasn't a mother to me, but a beast who used me as a punching bag," Vanessa replied, her voice low but cutting, each word dripping with wounds still bleeding. "This burn scar… it's wide, Diana. Do you know what it's like to be doused with boiling water at five, just for crying too loudly?" Her eyes blazed with hatred, her hand gripping the vanity harder, as if wanting to crush the memory.
Diana fell silent, her hand unconsciously touching the table, as if holding back empathy threatening to spill. "That's… cruel. No wonder her heart is dead, using anyone as her plaything," she murmured, her voice barely audible.
"Hey, I heard that," Vanessa cut in, frowning, but her eyes remained cold, hiding the storm in her chest.
"Sorry, Madam!" Diana quickly apologized, her body tensing, her hands clutching the hem of her uniform again.
"Enough. Go back to your room. I'll call you again tomorrow. I'm tired; dawn's coming soon," Vanessa said, reclining on her plush bed, her voice weary but still commanding, though her heart still roiled with rage and longing.
"Yes, Madam. Sorry for disturbing you." Diana left, her steps soft as she exited the room, the sound of her shoes echoing on the marble floor, leaving Vanessa in suffocating silence.
Alone, Vanessa stared at the bedroom ceiling, memories of her past life crashing over her like waves. "Cymia… you destroyed my family, stole my life in my past existence with poison and betrayal," she muttered, her voice thick with burning vengeance, her hand clutching the bedsheet until it tore. "And Sylviana, you took Raven from me. I'll hunt you down, even if I have to stain my hands with blood." She closed her eyes, trying to sleep, but memories of her tortured old body and the warmth of Melody and Agran made her dreams restless, the room's chill unable to calm her blazing heart.
By late morning, Vanessa woke, bathed in the lavish bathroom, the scent of lavender soap filling the air, yet unable to soothe her rage. She began setting traps, this modern mansion her stage for revenge. First, she cooked and offered lavish food to the servants.
"You must be hungry, right? This food is nothing special," she said, feigning kindness, but her eyes were cold as death. The aroma of roasted meat and spices wafted, contrasting with the faint metallic scent of the poison she sprinkled carefully, each move fueled by buried vengeance.
Six servants accepted. In Vanessa's room, with no witnesses, they ate all the food. Then…
"Argh, my head!"
"Madam, please!"
"Argh! Madam Sylviana!"
They died slowly, blood and poison oozing from their mouths, the stench of death spreading through the room. Vanessa sat sipping coffee by the window, cool air brushing her face, but her eyes gleamed with satisfaction. "My condolences," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. 'At least they left with full stomachs,my final gift of vengeance.'
Next, she offered 500 million for a servant who brought wild honey. "The sweetness of honey will soothe my sleep. Whoever brings it gets 500 million," she said, her voice tempting like a siren's song, but brimming with malice.
Ten servants were lured, racing to find a beehive in the backyard garden. The scent of wet earth and wildflowers filled the morning air. "I found it!" one shouted, full of excitement.
Vanessa, from the mansion's upper floor, laughed slyly, her eyes alight with satisfaction. "Lucky they don't know the difference between a beehive and a wasp nest," she muttered.
They cut the nest, then…
"Argh! These aren't bees!"
"It burns! It hurts!"
They collapsed and died from poisoning, their bodies swelling under the sunlight, their screams mingling with the morning breeze. "My cunning hasn't dulled," Vanessa said, her voice thick with satisfied hatred. 'They came for honey but left with the sting of death.'
One servant remained. Vanessa used no tricks, only ordered her to sit across from her in the cool living room, the lingering scent of coffee in the air. The servant was nervous, sweat dripping despite the chill, her eyes full of fear.
"I'm bored. Want to play with me?" Vanessa asked, crossing her legs, her eyes glinting with menace, like a predator ready to pounce.
"With pleasure, Madam," the servant replied, her voice breaking, her hands gripping her knees.
"I'll shuffle a coin under three glasses. Win, you get a reward. Lose, face punishment. Understood?" Vanessa smiled cynically, her eyes burning with vengeance.
She shuffled the coin quickly, invisible to the servant's eyes, the sound of the coin scraping the glass echoing softly, like the tick of death. "What kind of speed is this?" the servant muttered, terrified.
"Choose," Vanessa commanded, her voice like a whip.
"Um… this one!" The servant pointed to the right glass, her hands shaking violently, sweat dripping to the floor.
Vanessa opened the glass. "You lose," she said, her smile widening like a predator's, her eyes alight with satisfaction. She drew a pistol, aiming at the servant's head. "This is your punishment, little darling," she said, her voice sweet but brimming with hatred, savoring the fear paling the servant's face.
"Madam, please let me live!" the servant screamed, her voice breaking, tears soaking her face.
Suddenly, the door slammed open. CRASH! The sound of splintering wood echoed, shattering the silence. "You crazy woman! You killed Oliv!" Roni shouted, the small boy standing in the doorway, his face flushed, his eyes brimming with rage and tears.
"Roni," Vanessa whispered, caught off guard, her heart jolting at the sight of her son. Memories of her past life, Roni taken from her by Sylviana's poison, made her eyes glisten, the wide burn scar on her back seeming to burn again under her clothes. She quickly forced her face back to coldness, but her hand trembled slightly. Her eyes flicked to the vanity, where a small knife lay hidden in a drawer, waiting for the right moment.
The servant seized the pistol from Vanessa's hand, grabbing Roni and aiming it at his head. "Behave, kid!" she snapped, her voice harsh, her hand trembling but firm. Vanessa remained calm, her face impassive, but her chest roiled with rage and fear of losing Roni again. 'Sylviana, Cymia, you won't take my family again,' she thought, her eyes blazing with burning resolve, her hand ready to act.