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I approached the door on shaky legs and paused, listening for sounds outside the hallway.
When I didn’t hear any sounds, I quietly opened the door and ventured out.
The hallways looked very similar, and I kept getting lost. The mansion was like a maze, and the deeper I went, the more confused I beca.
After walking around in circles for about 20 minutes, which by the way felt like an eternity, even breathing beca a chore.
I had overworked my body to its limit. I gave up and sat on the floor to rest my legs.
I was sure soone would find sooner or later.
I leant on the wall, resting my back against it when I heard voices coming from the other side.
I was too tired to move, but I willed myself to stand, and I began to follow the sounds until I reached the top of a staircase that seed like it descended into the main hall.
"Is it true?" I heard Estelle’s voice ask soone.
"Is what true?" The patriarch’s voice asked back.
"Don’t play dumb. You knew I was worried, so why keep it from ? She’s my daughter too," Estelle yelled. She sounded angry.
Did they find out about their daughter’s whereabouts? Did the patriarch hide the truth from Estelle?
I was expecting the patriarch to answer his wife; instead, he addressed soone else. Or maybe a group of people?
"Which one of you told my wife about our findings?"
Silence.
The silence was so thick that even I began to feel dread from where I stood.
"I won’t repeat myself. Who told the matriarch—"
"Enough! Stop frightening them and show it to . I need to see what Isabelle wrote in that letter. Or are you planning to keep the truth from forever?" Estelle cut him off.
"My dearest wife, please listen to . I was planning to tell you in person. I didn’t know so blabbermouth would get to you first. I didn’t want you to worry," the Patriarch said gently.
Even though I couldn’t see the number of people in the hall, because I didn’t want to be caught eavesdropping, I could already tell the Patriarch would be having a grovelling expression on his face by now.
If there was anything I observed after watching the interactions between the Quinn patriarch and matriarch, it was the fact that the patriarch doted on his wife very much.
He was stern and strict, but he always beca gentle and accommodating whenever it concerned his wife.
"So, what are you waiting for? Give the letter," Estelle said.
"I... I left it in the office; I was in a hurry..."
"Joel, the letter," Estelle’s voice cut in again.
"I really don’t have it. I left it in..."
"Joel... My patience has a limit. Give the bloody letter."
"I don’t..."
"Joel!"
"Okay, okay, here it is. I was always against you over-pampering that girl; now look at her actions."
The sound of a paper being snatched filled the air, and Estelle spoke again. "Rita, get my reading glasses."
I heard footsteps coming in my direction, and I attempted to flee; however, Estelle’s voice cut in again.
"Forget about the glasses, Rita. "Co here and read it out to ," she said.
"I don’t think that’s a good idea." The patriarch told his wife.
"Don’t speak," Estelle warned, and the silence returned.
For about five full seconds, no one spoke.
"What are you standing there for? Can’t you read English?" Estelle asked, her question definitely directed at Rita.
"Umm... Sorry... I’m beginning," a woman’s voice said.
"Except Rita, all of you should leave us," the patriarch said. Several footsteps began to retreat, and in a few seconds, the silence returned again.
"You can read it now," Joel said.
"Ahem..." Rita coughed, and then she started reading.
"Mom and Dad,
If you have received this letter, then it ans the one-month mark I gave to the delivery company is up. I only want to put your mind at ease even though I think you don’t deserve it. For 20 years, you have kept in this gilded cage and brainwashed into thinking the outside world was dangerous.
Your obsessive love was like heavy chains that forced to beco a prisoner in my own house. My friends were always jealous of my rich background, not knowing how I hated to be born in such a family.
I’ve been sneaking out during my piano lessons, and the world isn’t like you described.
I t a man who loves very much, and I want to spend my life with him. I don’t need your blessings.
I won’t marry a man I barely know for your political gains. From this mont, you no longer have a daughter... For I chose freedom over chains and love over obsession.
Isabelle."
What a brat!
"Are you sure Isabelle wrote that?" Estelle asked; her voice was hoarse, indicating that she had been crying.
"The handwriting and the stamp are hers," Joel admitted.
"Tell , did I do sothing wrong? I ho-schooled her myself because I couldn’t bear the thought of soone maltreating my baby. I was her nanny, her friend, her everything. I didn’t want her to learn about the blood and dark side of our family. I only wanted to protect her," Estelle cried.
"I knew you’d be like this. She’s still young. She would co to her senses soon enough and return to us, alright?" Joel coaxed.
"She hates . "My baby hates ," she continued to cry.
"She doesn’t hate you. She’s just confused. She would learn her lesson the hard way and return. Just you wait, dear wife."
Estelle continued to cry, and Joel continued to coax her, and the more I heard, the more ridiculous Isabelle’s letter sounded.
Even before Vanessa ca into the picture, the Swans were the passive kind of parents.
They hardly cared about my studies, and so I naturally didn’t put in any effort.
I thought they doted on , but after hearing everything Estelle did for her daughter on purpose and in person, I realised the love I received was re crumbs.
But I had heard enough.
I turned and ntally prepared myself for a quest to find my room in this vast mansion while Estelle’s and Joel’s conversation continued in the background.
"Now that we know Isabelle is safe, why don’t you return to the bedroom and have so rest?" Joel said in a gentle voice.
"I need to draft a new trade route agreent with the Knights. Our response has taken too long, and the ’Iron Lady’ isn’t soone who likes to be kept waiting," he continued.
I tuned out their voices and stumbled toward the direction I ca from, my hand clutching the walls for support.
My breath hitched when I caught my reflection in the glass.
It was a large portrait of a girl.
The girl staring back at was Isabelle, my look-alike.
My...no, her... her skin was like porcelain, frad by waves of hair that shimred even in the dim hallway light.
The resemblance was uncanny. Aside from the faint, fading bruise on my neck where the collar had bitten deep, we looked... exactly the sa.
I raised a trembling hand, tracing the line of her jawbone that was identical to my own yet felt like a mask.
"Isabelle," I mouthed. The na felt heavy, like a crown I hadn’t asked for.
I thought of my father’s sneer as he watched my nails being pulled. I thought of Vanessa’s triumphant kiss with Lucas, the man I was supposed to marry. And then, I thought of Nathan—lying in that pool of blood because I hadn’t been strong enough to protect him.
If I stayed as Yvette, I would be a corpse. A "jinx." A girl whose own mother turned her back on her.
But if I beca Isabelle?
I looked at the expensive gold-rimd fra.
The Quinns had more power in their pinky fingers than the Swans had in their entire organisation.
As Isabelle, I had an army. I had a na that commanded respect rather than disgust.
I leaned closer to the glass, my eyes, once filled with a "good girl" softness, suddenly sharpening.
The "soft" girl died in that torture chair.
"You want a mafia princess?" I whispered to my reflection, my voice a jagged edge of its forr self. "I’ll give you one. And when I’m done, the Swans won’t have a nest to return to."
I turned towards the direction I just ca from, my footsteps faster than before.
I wasn’t going to escape tonight. I was going to stay.
I was going to be the best Isabelle Quinn the world had ever seen.
When I went down the stairs, Estelle’s and Joel’s gazes snapped towards with surprise.
"You..." Estelle began, but I didn’t allow her to speak.
"I want to beco Isabelle Quin. I’ll marry the knight heir in her place... and step aside when she returns."
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