Chapter 148 When Ryan Came for Amelia
Kevin sucked in a sharp breath the moment Chris spoke. Only then did it hit him—Amelia was wearing a red dress tonight.
Too perfect. Too wrong. The chandelier had blown without warning, the mansion plunged into darkness, and Amelia… Amelia was in that color.
But now was not the time to ask why.
If Ryan had been locked in that room moments ago, the shattered door told them everything—he had snapped.
And if he had gone upstairs, into Chris's bedroom, and seen Amelia in that red dress… Kevin didn't want to finish the thought.
He didn't waste another second. "Move! Upstairs!" he shouted, already sprinting for the staircase.
Amelia had spent the last hour tending to Zander's injury, her energy drained. Carried upstairs in Chris's arms, she was half-conscious, unaware of the shadow lingering near the landing on the third floor.
All she wanted was rest.
Chris laid her on his bed. The moment her head hit the pillow, she closed her eyes. Chris left the room, but minutes later, the door opened again.
The power was still out. Only a small battery-powered lamp on the nightstand cast a dim amber glow across the room.
She heard the sound and assumed Chris had come back for something. "Chris…" she murmured.
But when she opened her eyes, it wasn't Chris standing there.
It was Ryan.
"Ryan?" Her brow furrowed, puzzled by his presence.
Then she froze.
His face was empty, his eyes cold and hollow, the kind of stillness that hid something lethal. In his right hand, a knife glinted in the low light.
Her pupils tightened.
She didn't have time to call his name before he lunged.
The blade drove deep into the pillow beside her head with a muffled thud. One heartbeat slower and it would have been her skull.
"Ryan, what's wrong? You—"
Amelia rolled off the bed, trying to keep her voice steady. But Ryan's eyes were unfocused, his movements mechanical, deadly. He yanked the knife free and slashed again.
She dodged, breath sharp, mind racing.
This wasn't the Ryan she knew.
The first time they met, he had smiled and hugged her, calling her "sister." At the welcome dinner, he had accepted her gift only to secretly wire money back to her. He had sung at Prestige High School for her, even though he hated crowds.
Now, he was trying to kill her.
"Ryan, listen to me."
"You know who I am. I'm Amelia. I'm your sister."
"Ryan—look at me!"
She saw her opening, seized his wrist, and wrenched the knife from his hand. In one motion, she hurled it toward the window.
Glass shattered. The knife fell into the night. But Ryan didn't stop. Weaponless, he charged, hands reaching for her throat.
She couldn't move fast enough. His body slammed her against the wall.
Long fingers clamped around her neck. His eyes—those soft, almond-shaped eyes—were empty, terrifying. His beautiful face had become a mask she didn't recognize.
He meant to kill her.
Her breath caught, chest tightening. She couldn't break free. If she didn't fight back, she would die.
With no choice left, Amelia unleashed the force buried deep within her, throwing Ryan across the room.
A dull crash as his body struck the wardrobe. His head hit hard. He went limp.
The heavy wardrobe began to tip forward—straight toward his unconscious body.
Amelia's eyes widened. Without hesitation, she lunged, bracing herself between the falling weight and Ryan.
Kevin burst into the room and froze.
The space was chaos—shattered glass on the floor, feathers drifting in the air, the wardrobe tilted mid-fall. Amelia was holding it back with one hand, the other shielding Ryan in her arms.
"Amelia!"
"Amelia!"
People crowded in, stunned, rushing to help lift the wardrobe. None of them understood how the slender girl had held it at bay alone.
When she was free, Amelia's first move was to check the back of Ryan's head. No serious injury. She exhaled.
"What the hell happened here?" Asher demanded, eyes sweeping the wreckage.
The party hadn't even started—then the chandelier blew, the power went out, Zander got hurt, and now this.
"Kevin," Amelia said, lifting her gaze, "what's wrong with Ryan?"
Kevin stayed composed, turning to Asher and Yvette. "I'm sorry. Tonight was supposed to be our gathering. We wanted to welcome you, but—"
Asher cut him off. "Don't worry about it. Handle your family. We'll leave."
Dorian followed him out.
Yvette lingered, eyes fixed on Ryan. This had to be a secret the public didn't know—and she had just seen it firsthand.
Kevin's cold glare made her swallow whatever she was about to say. She left in silence.
Once the outsiders were gone, Kevin carried Ryan to his own room. Then he looked at Amelia. "Come with me."
Twenty minutes later, Amelia knew everything.
No wonder she had once seen scars on Ryan's arm.
Kevin and Chris had believed Ryan was healed when he came back from the clinic. The truth was… he had never escaped the shadow of those days.
The electricity returned.
Late at night, Jenny, Kevin, and Chris stayed by Ryan's side. Tobias watched over Zander in Amelia's room.
Alone in the hallway, Amelia drew a long breath.
The night had been meant for laughter. Now Ryan and Zander were unconscious, and she had nearly been killed.
No. Something didn't fit.
Why had the chandelier exploded? Why had Ryan been in a locked room during the outage? Why had the red dress sent him over the edge—and why had she been wearing it? Was it really a gift from Michael?
And Rachel. She had been too quiet all night, saying almost nothing. That was wrong.
At midnight, Amelia called Eric.
"Miss, Mr. Johnson left for Sulien unexpectedly tonight. If you need—"
"I'm not asking about that," Amelia cut in. "Eric, did Michael send someone to the Martinez mansion tonight to deliver a dress to me?"
"A dress?" Eric paused, confused. "No. Not at all."