Chapter 125: The Third Lover

Armand’s lips curled into a grim smile, one filled with years of pent-up resentment. “They even got closer when my father asked him to paint the Heavenly Orphanage. I don’t know what made my father so obsessed with that painting... It was everything to him.” His voice faltered for a moment as he continued, the weight of his emotions slipping through the cracks. “In his deathbed, I forced him to tell me what he was hiding. He told me it was a treasure. But before he could explain more, he died. My father died because of William.”

As I watched Armand, I saw more than just a bitter man. He was a jealous son, caught in the shadow of his father’s admiration for someone else. And yet, I couldn’t believe that William had been the cause of his suffering, at least not intentionally.

Armand’s eyes narrowed, his earlier fury dimming to a calm intensity. “Now, tell me what you discovered about the painting.”

He was relaxed now, almost too calm, but I knew better. This wasn’t over yet.

"A treasure map was hidden in the orphanage painting," I said flatly. The words hung in the air, and I could feel Armand’s mood shift, a dangerous calm settling over him.

"Go on," he said, crossing his arms, his eyes narrowing with cold focus. "Tell me the truth, or I’ll kill you right here, in front of your informant."

I swallowed hard, glancing briefly at the terrified woman nearby, her wide eyes pleading for mercy. The weight of my next words pressed down on me, but I couldn’t afford to hesitate.

"Your father buried a box of gemstones," I continued, my voice tight with urgency, "inside an empty coffin, under the name of a man your father must have known."

I paused, watching Armand closely, trying to gauge his reaction. But his face remained unnervingly still, his stare fixed on me, unblinking. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking, and the silence between us felt like a ticking bomb.

“We managed to find some of the gemstones,” I said, the words tumbling out faster now. “We sold them; we used the money for my mother’s hospital bills.”

My throat tightened as I thought of my mother, still trapped in Lily’s grip. Every second I wasted here was another moment she was in danger. The truth was my only way out; my only chance to save her.

"I'm not Lily," I blurted out, the desperation in my voice unmistakable. “I’m Rose, her twin sister.”

For a brief second, I saw a flicker of something in Armand’s eyes—surprise, disbelief. His eyebrows rose slightly, and I held my breath, praying that he would believe me. The room felt suffocating as I waited for his response, the truth hanging between us like a fragile thread.

Armand’s laughter echoed through the room, loud and mocking, as if I’d just delivered the punchline to a joke. “You expect me to believe that nonsense, Lily? I know how badly you want to get away from me. But let me be clear—after I get what I want, there won’t be another chance. You’ll be dead.”

“You won’t get it without saving my mother from the real Lily Brinson,” I countered, forcing my voice to remain steady. “You know what she’s capable of. She’s ruthless and ambitious, and she's the queen of the Eagle Tattooed gang. Nothing matters to her—not families, not loyalty, nothing. She’ll destroy anyone in her way.”

Armand’s amusement faded. He took a step closer, his eyes narrowing. “If that’s true, prove you’re not her. Prove you’re just her twin.”

“Look at my nape,” I said, turning slightly. “It’s clean. No markings. Lily has a tattoo of a lily flower on her nape. That’s how you can tell us apart.”

“Let me see her nape,” Armand barked, signaling his men.

They spun me around roughly, exposing the back of my neck. Silence filled the room. Even Armand hesitated, his confidence shaken.

I faced him again, my heart pounding. “And this necklace—my husband gave it to me as an indication of who I really am. I’m Rose, not Lily.”

Armand’s eyes flicked to the silver chain around my neck, doubt clouding his features as his men exchanged uncertain glances. I knew I had a sliver of hope now, so I pressed on.

“If you want the remaining gemstone, you’ll have to trust me. Help me get my mother away from Lily Brinson, and I’ll give you what you’re after. The stones are with her—I hid them in the small box she always carries. You want proof? The only way to get it is to see me and Lily together, face-to-face.”

Armand stared at me for a moment longer, and then turned abruptly toward the door. “If you’re lying, you’ll die instantly. Lock them up,” he ordered.

They shoved us into a small room, slamming the door shut behind us. Lily’s informant had been crying the whole time, but I held her as she trembled, whispering reassurances.

“Is it true that you are Madam Lily’s twin sister? ”She asked, her voice thick with fear, tears smudging her makeup.

“Yes, I’m telling the truth,” I said, offering her a wry smile, hoping to ease her nerves. "I was exiled to an orphanage for reasons only my mother could understand, and I only got out a year ago; since then, my life has been chaotic. All because I share a face with the evil queen of the Eagle Tattooed gang.

“I’m Karen,” she said, extending her hand. I shook it, sensing her unease. “I never imagined Madam Lily had a twin sister.”

“Neither did I,” I sighed, sinking into the weight of it all. “I was taken, imprisoned, and dragged into this mess because of the enemies Lily made.”

As the tension between us eased, we talked about Lily—about everything Karen knew. I needed every scrap of information to make sense of the situation.

“She saved me,” Karen began, her voice soft, the memory clearly painful. “My mother died in a hit-and-run accident. Lily found the people responsible and made sure they paid for what they did. That’s when I became her protégé. Eventually, she trusted me enough to send me on missions as her informant.

My curiosity sharpened. “Why are they rivals?”

“They’re both involved in the same dirty business,” Karen explained eagerly, the words tumbling out. “Illegal deals, prostitution, human and trafficking. Madam Lily runs the Moonlight Executive Club, and Armand Montclair operates his own nightclub for the same purpose. They’ve crossed paths—overlapping clients, conflicting deals—and that’s when things started to spiral. Madam Lily decided she needed a spy in Armand’s domain... and that spy was me.”

I leaned forward, more intrigued than ever. “And how did Lily manage to steal the orphanage painting from Armand’s house?”

Karen’s expression darkened as she recalled the details. “Madam Lily made a connection—through Armand’s close friend, Joel Emerson. He trusted her, and that was her entrance. Joel is the son of—”

“Mrs. Kim Emerson,” I finished her sentence, recognition flashing in my mind. “The owner of KE. Fashion Agency.”

Karen nodded. “Exactly. Through Joel, Lily infiltrated Armand’s inner circle and took the painting right from under his nose. That’s what started the firestorm.”

“How did you know that? ”Karen’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Lily Brinson was once a fashion model wasn’t she?” I replied.

Karen’s excitement grew as she nodded. “Yes! I can’t believe I didn’t put it together sooner.”

I could see her amazement as she pieced together the connections between Lily and me. As I began recounting a past encounter where my resemblance to Lily had caused confusion, Karen was completely engrossed; momentarily forgetting the danger that still loomed over us.

Time passed, and exhaustion caught up with us. We drifted into sleep, lulled by the dim room and our shared revelations.

When I next opened my eyes, everything had changed. I was no longer in the locked room but inside a moving van. My heart jumped in my chest. Armand sat right next to me, his presence suffocating.

“What happened? Where’s Karen? ”I demanded, my voice shaky.

“Don’t worry about her,” Armand replied, his voice low, devoid of any emotion. “Worry about what happens to you next.”

Panic surged through me. “Where are we going?”

He didn’t answer, just stared at me with cold, unblinking eyes, his silence far more terrifying than any words he could have spoken.