Chapter 5
The sound of the call disconnecting echoed loudly. Benedict’s hand, still clutching the phone, froze mid–air as if time itself had stopped.
Anton tapped his shoulder with his cane.
“What’s the matter? Who was that?”
The phone slipped from Benedict’s grasp, clattering to the floor. His eyes were vacant, his movements frantic as he scrambled to pick it up.
Without a word, he bolted toward the door, leaving behind a room full of bewildered stares.
I followed Benedict as he ran through thanh
house, his desperation spilling into every frantic motion. I couldn’t help but let out a hollow laugh.
What would his face look like once he saw the videos I left for him?
He slipped on the polished floor, landing hard. Even then, he fumbled with his phone, dialing my brother’s number over and over until the call finally connected.
“Victor!” His trembling hand brought the phone to his lips.
“Where is Kendra? Stop playing games. She’s just mad at me, right? Let her come out. I’ll explain everything about the trip abroad!”
Victor’s tone was laced with irritation as he responded, “I’ve already sent her to the cemetery. If you want her, go look for her there.”
Benedict’s bloodshot eyes widened. He tore through the house, overturning furniture, frantically searching for any trace of me.
When he found nothing, he collapsed onto the floor, his legs giving out beneath him.
He called the butler next, his voice trembling. “Where’s Kendra? And where are the servants?
“Don’t tell me a living, breathing person just vanished under your noses!”
The butler’s voice quivered on the other end.
“Uh… Mr. Gabor, wasn’t it you who instructed us to take everyone abroad with Tylor yesterday?”
12:57 PM
<
It all clicked at once. The memory of last night flashed across Benedict’s mind. Tylor’s threat of suicide, his frantic dash to be by her side, even sending the household staff to watch over her.
It was just because of her so–called “fear of strangers“.
Benedict’s chest heaved, his grip on the phone tightening until his knuckles turned pale.
“I don’t care how you do it. Find Kendra and bring her back to me!”
With that, he hurled the phone at the wall, shattering the screen.
I watched Benedict’s outburst and felt a twisted sense of satisfaction.
My plan had worked. The gamble had paid off.
Benedict, this was your own doing.
For a moment, Benedict sat on the floor, staring at the broken phone as if it held all the answers. Then, as if struck by a sudden realization, he leapt up and sprinted toward the courtyard.
There, he collided with Victor, who had arrived to settle his newfound inheritance.
The house, being tied to the Gabor family’s company, now belonged to Victor as part of our agreement.
I hadn’t expected him to act so quickly, barely waiting for my body to cool before showing up to claim his due.
Apparently, my death didn’t bother him at all.
Victor greeted him with a sneer. “Well, Benedict, where are you rushing off to?”
Benedict, disoriented and breathless, muttered, “I need to buy a new phone. If Kendra calls, I can’t miss it.”
The absurdity of his words seemed to hit him only after he finished speaking. His gaze shifted to Victor, and anger flared in his eyes. He grabbed Victor by the collar, his voice shaking.
“You still have the audacity to show your face here? Where is Kendra? Our relationship is none of your business!”
Victor laughed coldly. With a swift punch, he sent Benedict stumbling backward.
“Wake up, Benedict. Kendra is gone. Do you understand? She’s dead. You’ll never see her again or hear anything about her.”
Benedict’s jaw clenched, his face contorting with rage as he lunged again.
“Kendra wouldn’t just die out of nowhere! What do you mean? Explain yourself!”
Victor shoved him to the ground, dusting himself off as he surveyed the courtyard with an air of indifference.
“It seems you weren’t much of a husband. Kendra had every reason to do what she did to you.”
Then, as if delivering a casual reminder, Victor added, “Pack up anything important. The house isn’t yours anymore. If you want to know the full story, be at her funeral tomorrow at five.”
Victor strode off, leaving Benedict crumpled on the ground, his expression a jumbled mess of fear, disbelief, and desperation.
I leaned closer, scrutinizing his face.
How could one person convey so many emotions at once?
His eyes brimmed with panic his mouth frozen in shock.
“But whether you believe it or not, Benedict, it’s out of your hands now,” I muttered silently.
“Tomorrow, the real torment begins.”
