Chapter 7
933words
The image changed, displaying a private family physician's diagnostic log, with dates spanning the last three months.
The report clearly stated: Subject: Vivienne Thorne. Transformation Status: Complete. Rejection Symptoms: None. Physical Condition: Healthy.
Every line was another hammer blow to Miles's face.
"That's impossible..." The world was spinning around Miles. "She was in pain every day. I saw it with my own eyes..."
The screen switched to another file, a recorded phone call.
The timestamp was from a week ago.
Vivienne's voice filled the room, light and cheerful, completely lacking her usual feigned weakness.
"Your Majesty, Wolf King, the plan is proceeding smoothly."
"How are things on Isolde's end?" a gruff male voice asked.
"She's dying," Vivienne laughed, her tone demonic.
"The Blood Blight, with no cure. She won't last more than a few days. I have Miles completely wrapped around my finger. He'll do anything to protect me, his 'innocent little victim.'"
"And the little brat, Lily?"
"Even easier. Children are the easiest to fool. I just have to act pitiful in front of her, and she'll hate Isolde's guts. Now she spends her days cursing her 'evil mother.'"
Vivienne's laughter was sharp and piercing. "Once Isolde is dead, the entire Vance clan's territory will be mine. Then, our cooperation can officially begin."
"Excellent. Remember, once you take over the clan, the blood banks in the eastern territory are all ours."
The recording ended.
The only sounds in the room were the hum of the electronics and the heavy, enraged breathing of Marcus.
"It wasn't me! That's a fake!"
Vivienne screamed and lunged forward, trying to grab Miles's arm, but he threw her to the ground like a piece of trash.
"Miles, it's fabricated! Silas has always been jealous of me, he's framing me! You have to believe me!"
Miles looked down at his own hands.
These were the hands that had pried open Isolde's weak fingers and snatched away the vial.
What was the look in Isolde's eyes then?
Miles's heart seized. She hadn't cried. She hadn't fought. She had just watched him quietly, as if looking at a hopelessly lost child.
She knew all along. She knew Vivienne wasn't sick, knew it was a scam, knew that pouring the medicine down the toilet meant she would have to die.
But she hadn't said a word.
Because she knew Miles wouldn't believe her.
"She gave you her only chance to live."
Miles's voice was hoarse, as if his throat were filled with broken glass. "Isolde gave you her life. And you poured it down a drain."
"She did it willingly! She is the older sister, she is supposed to give way to me!"
Vivienne was still arguing, her eyes flashing with venom. "And... and I was suffering too! Psychological suffering is still suffering..."
Miles felt his world shatter.
He lunged, his hand clamping around Vivienne's neck and lifting her clean off the floor. The force of the impact slammed her against the wall.
"You're going to pay her back!" Miles's fangs descended, his pupils blood-red, his knuckles white from the force of his grip. "Give her back her life!"
"Miles... it is me... Vivienne..." she kicked her legs wildly in the air.
"Daddy?"
A young but cold voice suddenly sounded from the doorway.
Miles's movements stuttered, but he didn't let go.
Lily stood there, clutching her old doll, looking at the wreckage of the room and then at the black box in Silas's hands.
"Uncle Silas said Mommy... turned to ash?"
Lily tilted her head. Her eyes, forever frozen at the age of eight, held not a shred of sadness, but rather an unsettling air of relief.
Silas stood to the side, his expression blank as he nodded. "Yes, Miss Lily. The lady has passed away."
"Oh."
Lily shrugged, and the corner of her mouth actually twitched upward into a small smile. "Good. Now no one will force me to practice the piano, and no one will care if I control my bloodlust."
In that moment, Miles felt a cold hand squeeze his heart and crush it into dust.
This was the daughter Isolde had died to protect.
This was the "child" she had defied the Elder Council to save.
To make this so-called family happy, she had lived like a sinner in her own home for seven hundred years.
And after her death, this father and daughter had nothing for her but relief.
"Shut up!"
Miles roared at Lily, his grip tightening uncontrollably.
Vivienne let out a strangled, dying cry as the bones in her neck gave a sickening crack.
The sound finally frightened Lily.
The little girl who had just been celebrating her mother's death, now seeing Miles's monstrous expression, finally burst into a piercing wail.
"Waaah! Daddy's a monster! Daddy's going to kill someone! I hate you!"
Lily shrieked and scrambled backward, hurling her doll at Miles. "You're a bad guy! You're just as hateful as Mommy!"
Miles froze.
He looked at Vivienne, nearly dead in his grasp, at Lily, screaming in terror, and then at the black, forlorn box of ashes in Silas's arms, completely forgotten.
Despair washed over him like a tidal wave.
He let go.
Vivienne slid to the floor like a heap of rags, clutching her throat and gasping for air.
Miles fell to his knees, his hands trembling as he reached for the box, yet he didn't dare to touch it.
For a liar who poured the cure down a drain, he had killed the woman who had loved him for seven hundred years.
