Chapter 48
Ondine stood as well, an obedient smile on her face, following at the back of the group.
After a few steps, Ondine stopped and glanced back at Flora.
Flora sat on the sofa, her face ashen as she sipped her tea.
Their gazes collided in midair for an instant—one brimming with tears, the other smoldering with rage—then each looked away.
But those eyes that had met remembered each other.
A mutual target had been locked in.
The car left the gates of Cloud Ridge Estates and drove back down the mountain road.
No one spoke inside.
For once, Clayton wasn't chattering. He leaned against the passenger seat, pretending to doze.
Ondine sat on the other side of the backseat, quietly watching the night outside the window, her expression blank.
Octavius turned his head and glanced at Seraphine. She leaned against the seat, her profile flickering in and out of view beneath the passing streetlights.
The car turned into Windsor Manor's private driveway, the speed slowing.
The car stopped. Clayton was the first to hop out, stretching lazily.
Ondine followed, murmuring softly, "I'll head up first," then walked quickly inside with her head down.
Seraphine was about to get out when Octavius stopped her.
"Seraphine."
She turned back.
Just the two of them left in the car.
Octavius looked at her, those deep eyes holding no tricks, no probing—only an undisguised warmth. "What she says is her business. My wanting to pursue you is mine."
Seraphine looked at him for two seconds, the corner of her mouth lifting slightly—a curve as faint as moonlight on snow. "Suit yourself."
She closed the car door and turned to walk into the villa.
Octavius sat in the car, watching her figure disappear into the warm light of the porch.
He lowered his eyes, the curve at his mouth slowly widening in the empty car where no one could see.
Ondine returned to her room, closed the door, and locked it.
She didn't turn on the light.
Moonlight filtered through the sheer curtains, spreading a cold white glow across the floor.
She stood by the window, watching the black Maybach turn slowly in the courtyard below and drive out through the gates, taillights dragging two dark red streaks through the night.
She suddenly smiled.
She picked up her phone and scrolled to the number she'd secretly saved that afternoon.
The opportunity had come in the moment everyone was leaving the living room—she'd slipped a business card from Flora's cardholder on the coffee table.
No one had noticed—all eyes had been on Seraphine.
She dialed.
The phone rang three times before connecting.
Flora's voice carried a note of surprise and wariness. "Ms. Windsor?"
"Ms. FitzRoy," Ondine's voice resumed that soft, fragile tone, tinged with a timid hesitation. "Earlier at Mr. Orion FitzRoy's house, you seemed upset. Was I wrong to go along? Did I get in your way?"
Flora was silent for a moment, seemingly assessing the intent behind the call.
Then she laughed—a sound carrying a knowing edge. "Ondine, you are you, and she is she. What I said today wasn't aimed at you. You're a good girl. I can tell the difference."
"Thank you." Ondine's voice took on a flattered tremor before sinking lower, like a leaf blown by the wind finally finding soil to rest on. "Actually, I don't mind for myself. It's just… ever since Seraphine came back to the Windsor family, I feel like Mom looks at me differently. When you spoke up for me today, I was really grateful."
"Your mother's been deceived by your sister." Flora's tone was cold. "That Seraphine—using a bit of medical skill to wrap Father around her finger. Who knows, one day she'll turn the FitzRoy family upside down."
"Seraphine's medical skills really are impressive." Ondine softly agreed, but her tone carried a faint, elusive suggestion.
"That day when Mr. Orion FitzRoy had a reaction to my soup, Seraphine revived him so quickly. I was terrified at the time. But thinking back… how did she know there was a problem with those ingredients? How did she figure out what was wrong so fast? It's almost like… she already knew something would happen."
Silence stretched long on the other end of the line.
Ondine said nothing more. She'd made her point.
Flora finally spoke, her voice low. "Ondine, you're a smart girl. Your sister being in the Windsor family… that's not good for you either, is it?"
"Ms. FitzRoy, I just want to live peacefully." Her voice was as light as a feather, then she paused. "But if you ever need my help with anything, you can always reach out. I'd like to do more for Mr. Orion FitzRoy too."
The two women exchanged a tacit silence over the phone.
After hanging up, Ondine walked to her vanity and sat down.
The mirror reflected her face, moonlight striking from behind, splitting her expression into halves—one bright, one dark.
She slowly removed her hairpin, her long hair falling over her shoulders, that smile still lingering at the corner of her mouth.
Ondine curved her lips, smiling at herself.
She didn't know how much longer she'd remain in the Windsor family.
But she knew that as long as Seraphine stayed even one more day, she wouldn't be safe.
And Flora—Flora was the first crack she'd found in Seraphine's otherwise impenetrable defense.
On the other end, Flora hung up, her gaze vicious.
Today, after Seraphine and the others left, Orion had kept her behind for yet another scolding.
Over all these years—she'd lost count of how many times.
Every time he was displeased with her, it was direct rebuke—no face saved for her whatsoever.
If only that day at the hospital, Orion hadn't been saved...
Flora could barely control such thoughts.
But every time she tried to suppress them, she couldn't!
She'd already learned that Seraphine had been helping Orion manage his health lately. Who knew where she'd learned such medical skills—to be so formidable!
If she could just drive Seraphine out of the Windsor family, that would eliminate her access to Orion.
Orion's illness… would naturally decline again, just like before.
That way, she wouldn't have to lift a finger herself—simply let nature take its course, shed a few tears when necessary, and while Octavius's parents were still abroad, she and Paxton could divide up the FitzRoy family fortune!
Ryder hadn't slept well in three days.
The termination from Blue Ridge Design was like a domino, toppling the Wipere Group's most critical supply chain.
Two factory lines had shut down. Downstream suppliers, catching wind of the situation, started demanding payment. The bank's credit manager had called several times to "check in."
Over the years, he'd relied on his partnership with Blue Ridge Design to elevate the Wipere Group from ordinary merchants to the wealthiest family in Silverpeak Town. Now that the partnership was severed, the foundation had cracked.
He'd combed through his entire network in Silverlight City and finally squeezed a piece of information from a loose-lipped middleman.
The true owner behind Blue Ridge Design would be attending Horizon Realty's annual gala this Saturday at Silverlight City International Hotel.