NovelEnglishChapter 68
Blake's POV
The warmth of Audrey’s hand still lingered on my skin. Her touch felt achingly familiar, stirring memories I'd tried
to suppress.
But before | could think about it more, Laurel gasped tically. “Miss Sinclair is so rough. That really hurt...”
felt the last traces of Audrey’s warmth fade from my palm as | frowned at this unexpected scene. “Why are you
here?” | kept my voice low.
Laurel's lower lip trembled as her eyes filled with tears. “I had a fight with my mother,” she whispered, voice
catching. | couldn't stay at home.”
Her fingers twisted in the fabric as she continued, “Thalia toldthe mansion’s been empty since Miss Sinclair
moved out... so | moved in yesterday.” She glanced up through wet lashes. “Blake darling, you're not mad, are
you?”
| pressed my fingers to my temples, fighting back a headache. “Why didn’t you tellyou needed a place to
stay? | could have arranged somewhere else.” A pause, heavy with implication. “I've been staying here lately.”
That was hard to admit. | hadn't told anyone about my recent habit of returning to this place night after night,
seeking... what? Traces of a life I'd systematically destroyed? The ghost of happiness I'd never appreciated until
it was gone?
“What's the problem?” Laurel's smile was still sweet, yet it had started to grate on my nerves. “The mansion’s
more than big enough for both of us.*
“No.” | instinctively refused. After a moment, | added with careful neutrality, “But stay if you want. I'll make other
arrangements.”
Actually, her unannounced arrival effectively forcedto find somewhere else to stay, and it stirred an
unexpected resistance. Among all my properties, this was the only one that still held echoes of a life I'd chosen
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtto walk away from. The thought of abandoning it now felt like surrendering something | wasn’t ready to name.
| shook my head and walked towards the living room. For a moment, the transformation inside instantly made
Every trace of Audrey had been systematically erased, replaced by Laurel's particular brand of feminine excess.
Pink throw pillows littered the couch where Audrey's carefully chosen earth tones had once created an
atmosphere of warmth. Crystal figurines sparkled where her modest pottery collection had made the space feel
like home.
“You did all this overnight?” | surveyed the room, feeling something shattering in my heart.
“Thalia helpeddecorate!” Laurel's smile was bright enough to blind. ‘Isn't it lovely?” She floated closer, her
movement deliberately graceful.
She watched Audrey's figure upstairs then added, “Though | haven't seen Miss Sinclair's cat. Didn't she take it
when she moved out? Why is she back looking for it?” Her voice carried a particular lilt. “Is she really looking for
the cat, or is it just an excuse to see you?”
| studied her face, and asked, “Snow wasn’t here when you moved in?”
“Yeah, the cat was... supposed to be here?”
The confusion in her expression maderealize something was wrong. Without bothering to respond, | took the
stairs at a time, following Audrey's path.
“Blake darling!” Laurel's voice chased after me. “You must be hungry. I've got meat cooking downstairs...”
Audrey's POV
‘Snow?” My voice echoed off walls that no longer felt familiar. “Snow, where are you?”
Every step through the Lunar Mansion felt like navigating a maze of distorted memories, where familiar corridors
led to unrecognizable spaces. Three years of careful decorating choices had been erased overnight, replaced by
something that felt deliberately designed to mock everything I'd built here.
Even Blake's study hadn't been spared from Laurel's invasion. The irony wasn’t lost on me. During our marriage,
I'd barely been allowed to enter his study, let alone change anything. Yet here was Laurel, freely redecorating
the very space I'd been barred from touching. The message couldn't have been clearer I'd always been the
outsider in his life. Laurel, it seemed, was anything but.
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Chapter 68
| drew in a deep breath, forcing down the bitter realization. Focus on Snow, | commanded myself. This isn’t your
hanymore. Whatever Blake allows Laurel to do with the space... it’s none of your business.
But determination alone wasn’t enough. After what felt like hours of searching, having turned nearly every room
upside down, Snow remained frustratingly absent. Not a single trace of her could be found no fur, no favorite
hiding spots, nothing. It was as if she'd vanished into thin air.
Are you sure Snow is really here?” | finally asked, turning to Blake behind me. “Then where is she?”
“I have no reason to lie.” His voice was calm. “Michael took her to the vet for grooming, then brought her back
here.”
If Snow is here, then where?” Panic began to rise. Blake's unwavering certainty only made the knot in my chest
tighten. After a sleepless night of searching, after finally discovering he had taken her, how could she just...
vanish?
“Watch your attitude.” Laurel's voice sounded as she appeared at the top of the stairs. “Weren't you supposed to
care so much about that cat? How could you lose her in the first place?” She leaned against the railing with
practiced casualness. “I've been here since last night, and | haven't seen any cat!”
“Laurel, stop!” Blake's sharp tone carried a warning.
She straightened, brushing imaginary dust from her pressed outfit, moving toward the stairs. “Alright, keep
looking. | need to check on my pot roast. I've got meat cooking downstairs.”
The mention of cooking meat planted a seed of horror in my mind that bloomed into full-blown terror. “The meat
in your pot.” | rushed to her, my voice shaking. “What exactly are you cooking?”
For a split second, genuine surprise flickered across Laurel's face, then replaced by a hint of malice. “Why don’t
you guess?“
Before | could realize it, my hands found her throat with a strength | didn’t know | possessed. ‘Is it Snow?” |
demanded desperately. My vision blurred with tears but my grip remained steady. “TELL ME!”
For all her calculated provocations, my explosive rage seemed to genuinely terrify Laurel. She managed between
gasps. “Blake darling...”
| felt Blake’s grip on my wrist before | registered his movement. “Enough!”
“She killed Snow!”
His voice held a hint of resignation. “Think rationally! She's a delicate actress who can barely handle a knife.
How could she hurt Snow?”
The logic in his words penetrated the red haze of my panic. He was right - someone like Laurel, who needed
assistance just to carry her shopping bags, who complained about breaking a nail... she'd never actually handle
raw meat, let alone...
“I...” Shflooded my cheeks, and my grip loosened as clarity returned. “I'm sor...”
The words never finished forming. In that moment of vulnerability, | caught the flash of malice in Laurel's eyes.
Then her hands connected with my chest, shoving with surprising strength.
Tseemed to slow as | felt myself falling backward. | saw Blake reach out foras my body tumbled down
the stairs, but it was too late. With a dull thud, I hit the first floor,
AUDREY!”
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