Chapter 201 Always Prepared

Chapter 201 Always Prepared
There was a moment—a fleeting instant—when the world stopped moving. The moment Carlisle entered the cellar, his eyes cold as ever, his presence a suffocating weight in the air. For the briefest second, I thought he might pretend. I thought he might lie or even turn away, as if he could pretend he hadn’t seen me. But I knew better. He never pretended. He was too twisted for that. And I was too broken to fool myself. 
Adeline froze, her wide eyes locking with mine. Her breath caught in her throat, as if seeing me standing there—alive, real, in this godforsaken place—was too much. Her gaze flickered from me to him, and then back again, searching for answers I knew she would never get. 
Carlisle didn’t need to say anything at first. His expression was enough—calm, almost serene, as if this was all part of some twisted game he’d orchestrated. He didn’t rush to speak. He just stood there, studying Adeline, watching her falter in confusion. It was all part of the plan. The master plan. And for a fleeting moment, I almost felt a spark of defiance flicker within me. Almost. 
But then his voice broke through the tension, low and steady, almost like a confession. 
“Adeline, you’re confused. This… woman,” he gestured toward me with a dismissive flick of his wrist, “is dangerous. She’s sick. She’s been tormenting me, manipulating me. Her mind… it’s completely broken. I had no choice but to confine her.” 
His words were measured, each one dripping with calculated calmness, like venom oozing from a well-practiced lie. I could feel the coldness of his gaze seeping into my skin, his words pressing against me like hands tightening around my throat. His voice didn’t even tremble, even though I could feel the lie in every syllable. 
“Dangerous,” he repeated, as though the word itself held some kind of weight. His eyes met Adeline’s, and I saw the flicker of uncertainty flash in her face—just for a moment, as though she was willing to believe him, to trust him, just as I had once done. 
But that flicker was fleeting, and I saw the shadow of doubt crawl into her eyes. For a moment, she didn’t know who to believe. 
And then she turned back to me. 
I held her gaze, my breath shaky. My mind was fractured, but there was a single thread of clarity that connected me to her. I couldn’t say the words, but I tried to make her understand. I wanted to scream that he was lying. I wanted to shout that he was the one who’d put me here, the one who’d broken me. But my voice was nothing more than a rasp, and even in my broken state, I knew I had no power here. 
The faces in the wall watched in silence, their features shifting in anticipation. This was the moment they had been waiting for—the confrontation, the revelation, the final unraveling of all Carlisle’s carefully constructed lies. 
She looked at him again, her expression softening. But her eyes were no longer filled with confusion. There was something else there now—something close to horror. 
“What did you do to her?” she whispered. 
Carlisle’s lips twitched into a smile. It wasn’t a smile of reassurance. It wasn’t one of warmth or compassion. It was the smile of a predator, calm and poised, as though this was all just a matter of course. 
“I did what was necessary,” he said, his tone as cold and final as a tombstone. 
Adeline’s breath hitched. Her eyes flickered between us. There it was—the moment when the truth had finally bled through his lies. She saw it. She saw him. And in that brief second, I could see the realization shatter her. 
Her voice cracked as she spoke, “You—you’re—” 
“Yes,” Carlisle cut her off, his voice suddenly harsh. “And now you understand. You see what you’ve walked into, don’t you? You think you can just walk in here and decide who gets to stay and who gets to go?” He stepped closer to her, his hand reaching out as if he were going to comfort her, but I saw the steel in his movements. The control in his eyes. “No, my dear, it doesn’t work that way. You’ve made your choice. And now you will join her.” 
Her eyes widened in horror as she recoiled. The distance between them was palpable, and I knew the weight of his words was sinking in. She had always been able to escape before. But now? Now there was no escape. Not from him. Not from the house. Not from the cruelty he would deliver. 
Carlisle’s hand shot out, grabbing her wrist with surprising strength, his fingers biting into her flesh as he twisted her towards him. 
“I won’t—” she gasped, but his grip tightened, silencing her. 
“You will,” he whispered, his voice low, dangerous. “You’ll understand soon enough, Adeline. Just like she did.” 
Adeline’s eyes flashed with anger, with fear, with a thousand different emotions I couldn’t quite name. She struggled against his hold, but he didn’t flinch. 
I watched, feeling a cold satisfaction seep through me. He’d done this to me, and now he was doing it to her. She was trapped, just like I had been. The weight of that knowledge was a cruel relief. At least she was finally awake. 
“It’s perfect,” Bertha whispered from the mirror, her voice trembling with dark excitement. “Now he has nowhere to hide. Now everyone will know.” 
And then, as if to seal our fate, Carlisle’s voice came again, colder than ever. “You’re both going to stay here. In the cellar. Together. That’s where you belong.” 
Adeline flinched, her eyes wide with disbelief, her breath quickening as the full weight of his words settled over her. 
But then something changed. A spark of defiance flickered to life in her eyes. With a sudden, desperate strength, she wrenched her arm free and shoved him—hard. Carlisle stumbled backward, losing his balance on the narrow stairs. There was a moment of suspended animation as he teetered on the edge, arms windmilling, before he fell. 
The sound of his body hitting the stone floor echoed through the cellar, followed by a sickening crack as his head connected with the hard surface. 
Then—silence. 
Adeline stood frozen on the stairs, her hands covering her mouth in horror. I remained equally still, unable to process what had just happened. 
Carlisle lay motionless on the floor, one arm bent at an unnatural angle beneath him, a dark stain spreading slowly beneath his head. 
“Is he...?” Adeline whispered, unable to finish the question. 
I forced myself to move, crossing the small space on unsteady legs. I knelt beside him, my dirty fingers reaching for his throat, searching for a pulse. 
“There’s a pulse,” I said, my voice oddly calm. “He’s unconscious, but alive.” 
Relief flooded Adeline’s face. She took a tentative step down the stairs, then another. “We need to get help—” she began. 
But her words died in her throat as Carlisle’s eyes suddenly snapped open. Before I could react, his hand shot up, fingers closing around my throat with brutal force. 
“You thought it would be that easy?” he snarled, his voice thick with rage. 
I clawed at his hand, gasping for air that wouldn’t come. Through darkening vision, I saw Adeline rush forward, trying to pull him off me. With his other arm—the one I had thought broken—Carlisle struck out, catching her across the chest and sending her sprawling backward. 
He released me just as black spots began to dance across my vision, shoving me roughly to the floor. I collapsed, coughing and wheezing, unable to do anything but watch as he rose to his feet with fluid grace. There was no injury, no real damage—he had been playing possum, waiting for his moment. 
“I’m disappointed, Adeline,” he said, his voice terrifyingly calm as he turned toward her. “I thought you were smarter than this. Thought you would understand your place.” 
Adeline scrambled backward, her eyes wild with terror. “Stay away from me,” she gasped. 
Carlisle ignored her, advancing with measured steps. “But I see now that Georgia has poisoned your mind. Filled it with her delusions, her paranoia.” He glanced back at me, contempt written across his features. “Just like she tried to do before.” 
“She didn’t poison anything,” Adeline spat, her back now pressed against the damp wall. “You’re the poison. You’re the monster.” 
Something flickered across Carlisle’s face—a flash of rage quickly controlled, contained behind his mask of calm. “No, my dear. I’m the only sane one here. The only one who understands what needs to be done.” 
He lunged suddenly, catching Adeline’s arm before she could dart away. With cruel efficiency, he twisted it behind her back, forcing her across the cellar toward my cell. 
“You’ll see,” he continued, his voice almost conversational despite the violence of his actions. “A few months down here, and you’ll understand. You’ll be grateful for my protection. For my foresight.” 
I struggled to my feet, still gasping for breath, desperate to help. But my legs gave way beneath me, weak from months of captivity and malnutrition. I collapsed again, helpless to do anything but watch. 
“Please,” Adeline begged, her voice breaking. “Carlisle, don’t do this. This isn’t you—” 
“This is exactly who I am,” he interrupted calmly. “Who I’ve always been. You just refused to see it.” 
With a final shove, he pushed her into my cell. She stumbled, falling to her knees on the damp stone floor. Before she could recover, Carlisle stepped back, slamming the heavy door shut between us. 
The sound of the lock clicking into place was deafening in the sudden silence. 
“I’m sorry it had to come to this,” he said through the small barred window, his voice flat and emotionless. “But you left me no choice. Either of you.” 
He turned to leave, pausing at the foot of the stairs to look back at us one last time. “I’ll take care of both of you,” he promised, his voice soft, almost tender. “You have my word.” 
And then he was gone, his footsteps echoing on the stone steps, fading into silence as the trapdoor closed behind him. 
I was no longer alone. Neither was she. 
Adeline remained where she had fallen, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. I crawled to her side, my own body aching from Carlisle’s attack, and placed a trembling hand on her back. 
“Now we wait,” I whispered, my voice finding a strength I didn’t know I still possessed. 
She turned to me, her eyes questioning, afraid. “For what?” 
I smiled, a small, broken thing that felt foreign on my lips. “For the fire to start.” 
The faces in the wall seemed to smile too, their features shifting in anticipation. They knew what was coming. They had always known. 
It wasn’t long before Carlisle returned. We heard his footsteps on the stairs, heavy and determined. The small food slot in the door slid open, and his eyes appeared in the narrow space—cold, calculating, filled with a rage barely contained. 
“I hope you’re comfortable,” he said, his voice dripping with false concern. “Getting acquainted with your new roommate, Adeline?” 
Adeline had retreated to the far corner of the cell, her knees drawn up to her chest. She said nothing, just stared at him with a mixture of fear and defiance. 
“Nothing to say?” Carlisle continued. “No more accusations? No more righteous anger?” He chuckled, the sound devoid of any real humor. “I thought not.” 
His gaze shifted to me, and his expression hardened. “This is your doing, Georgia. You poisoned her against me. Turned her into... this.” He gestured vaguely toward Adeline. “But it won’t last. She’ll see reason eventually.” 
He focused on Adeline again, his voice softening in a way that made my skin crawl. “I do love you, Adeline. I truly do. That’s why this hurts so much—seeing you turn on me for her.” His tone sharpened. “But I’ll get her. I’ll make her pay for taking you away from me, for turning my jewel, my most precious possession, against me.” 
Adeline finally spoke, her voice small but steady. “I’m not your possession, Carlisle. I never was.” 
His eyes narrowed. “You are whatever I say you are.” The words rang with finality, with the absolute certainty of a man who had never been challenged, never been denied. 
“I’m not leaving you down here forever,” he added, his voice adopting that false tenderness again. “Just until you come to your senses. Until you’re my Adeline again.” His gaze hardened as it shifted back to me. “Georgia, on the other hand... her time here is nearly done.” 
That last statement hung in the air, heavy with menace. Then, without another word, he slid the food slot closed and disappeared back up the stairs. 
Adeline and I sat in silence for a long time after he left, the weight of his words pressing down on us like a physical thing. 
“What did he mean?” Adeline finally whispered. “About your time being nearly done?” 
I met her gaze, seeing the fear there—not for herself, but for me. “I think we both know what he meant,” I replied softly. 
She shook her head in denial, but I could see the truth settling on her. Carlisle had no intention of keeping me alive much longer. 
Carlisle - 
The pain in my head was excruciating, a pulsing reminder of Adeline’s betrayal. I pressed the cold compress against my temple, wincing as it made contact with the swelling. The fall down the cellar stairs had left me with a nasty gash and what was likely a concussion, but it could have been worse. Much worse. 
I had underestimated Adeline. A mistake I wouldn’t make again. 
With hands that weren’t quite steady, I picked up my phone and dialed a familiar number. It rang three times before being answered. 
“Clarksdale speaking.” 
“It’s Carlisle,” I said, trying to keep my voice even despite the pain. “I need you to come to the house. Immediately.” 
There was a pause on the other end. “What’s happened?” 
“An accident,” I replied carefully. “I’ve suffered a head injury. Nothing too serious, but I’d prefer your discretion to a hospital visit.” 
Another pause, longer this time. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” 
The line went dead. I set down the phone and leaned back in my chair, closing my eyes against the throbbing in my skull. Everything had spiraled out of control so quickly. Adeline finding Georgia. The confrontation. The look in Adeline’s eyes when she realized what I had done. 
It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Adeline was supposed to be different—more malleable, more accepting. She wasn’t supposed to turn against me, to side with Georgia against her own husband. 
But I would fix it. I always did. 
Dr. Clarksdale arrived exactly when he said he would, his medical bag in hand, his expression grim. He had been my family’s doctor for decades, had treated both Georgia and Adeline, had signed the papers that allowed me to keep Georgia’s “treatment” private. He knew enough to be useful, but not enough to be dangerous. 
Or so I had thought. 
“This is quite a nasty wound,” he remarked as he cleaned the gash on my temple, his touch clinical and impersonal. “How did you say it happened?” 
“I slipped on the cellar stairs,” I replied. It wasn’t entirely a lie. 
He made a noncommittal noise, continuing his work in silence. After bandaging the wound, he sat back, studying me with an intensity that made me uncomfortable. 
“And now, the real reason you called me here?” he asked quietly. 
I met his gaze steadily. “I need something stronger for Georgia. Sedatives, heavy ones. She’s become increasingly difficult to manage, increasingly dangerous.” 
“Dangerous,” he repeated, his tone neutral. “In what way?” 
“She’s turned Adeline against me,” I said, the words bitter on my tongue. “Filled her head with all sorts of delusions. I’ve had to... separate them from each other for the time being.” 
Dr. Clarksdale’s expression didn’t change, but something shifted in his eyes. “Separate them,” he echoed. “You mean you’ve locked your wife in the cellar with Georgia.” 
It wasn’t a question. I felt a flicker of unease at his tone, at the way he was looking at me now. 
“Temporarily,” I insisted. “Until Adeline comes to her senses. But Georgia... I need your help with her. For good this time.” 
He was silent for a long moment, his gaze never leaving mine. Then, with deliberate care, he closed his medical bag and stood. 
“No,” he said simply. 
I blinked, certain I had misheard. “Excuse me?” 
“I said no, Carlisle. No more.” His voice was quiet but firm. “I’ve gone along with your ‘treatment’ of Georgia for months now, against my better judgment, against every ethical code I swore to uphold. I told myself it was for her own good, that she truly was as unstable as you claimed. But this...” He shook his head. “This has gone too far.” 
I rose from my chair, ignoring the wave of dizziness that followed. “You don’t understand the situation—” 
“I understand perfectly,” he interrupted, his voice sharper now. “I’ve understood for some time, but I’ve been too much of a coward to act on it.” He took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders. “I want you to release Georgia to my care. To a real hospital, with real doctors who can help her. And I want you to let Adeline go as well.” 
The room seemed to grow colder, the air between us charged with tension. “And if I refuse?” I asked, my voice dangerously soft. 
“Then I go to the police,” he replied simply. “I tell them everything I know, everything I suspect. About Georgia’s ‘disappearance,’ about the medications I’ve been prescribing, about your control over both women.” 
For a moment, I couldn’t speak, couldn’t think past the rage building inside me. This man—this nobody—was threatening me? In my own home? 
“You would ruin your own career,” I managed finally. “Your reputation. Everything you’ve built.” 
He smiled sadly. “Yes, I would. But I’d be able to live with myself again.” He reached for his bag, preparing to leave. “So what will it be, Carlisle? Will you do the right thing, for once in your life?” 
I moved without conscious thought, driven by a fury that overwhelmed reason. My hand closed around the heavy letter opener on my desk—an antique, solid silver, the blade wickedly sharp. Before Dr. Clarksdale could react, I had crossed the space between us. 
His expression registered surprise, then understanding, then a strange sort of acceptance as the letter opener found its mark. He made a soft, choked sound, his eyes locked with mine as he crumpled to the floor. 
I stood over him, watching as the light faded from his eyes, as his body gave a final, feeble twitch before going still. 
The rage receded slowly, leaving in its wake a cold, clear certainty. I had crossed a line—one I had approached before but never quite stepped over. There would be no going back now. 
With methodical care, I retrieved the doctor’s bag, searching through it until I found what I needed—the sedatives he had brought for me, despite his protests. Always prepared, Dr. Clarksdale. Even to the end. 
I placed a call to the only people I could trust now—Elena, who had been with the family long enough to know when to look the other way, and Richards, the groundskeeper whose own secrets I had kept for years. They arrived quickly, their expressions grim but unsurprised when they saw the doctor’s body. 
“Clean this up,” I instructed, watching as they wrapped the corpse in plastic sheeting. “Make sure there’s no trace.” 
While they worked, I prepared two meals—simple fare, soup and bread—lacing one bowl heavily with the sedatives I had taken from the doctor’s bag. Georgia would pose no further problems after tonight. And Adeline... Adeline would learn her place soon enough.