Chapter Ninety-Seven

With countless rooms, the Rothslor manor could be declared a castle. I had lost track of which floor we were on and how many rooms we had gone through. The fear of throat-slitting and devil sacrifice persisted with each new area we entered.

“This is the last room,” said Jane Astor, removing a big bronze lock from the door. "Come inside and have a look. We’re not hiding anything here except old furniture."

“We don’t need to check anything. Our mother was entirely wrong about you. Thank you for your hospitality to show us around your home,” said Derrick.

No, what? I peeked inside from afar. Dusty white sheets covered what they claimed was furniture. Anything could be hidden underneath it. We couldn’t just quit looking for Satan.

“You.” Mr. Astor pointed at me with a finger. “You’re still doubtful about us. I have sensed you shake like a leaf each time I stood behind you. Were you expecting me to plunge a dagger into your back?”

I again trembled under his ominous stare. Benedict Astor loved messing with the weak; playing with me was his new favorite hobby. “No, sir, I wasn’t.” I bit on the insides of my mouth. “The dust makes me uncomfortable and makes me sneeze…”

“Do you want to waste your time making excuses? Or do you want to put your troubled mind at ease by pulling off these sheets? A demon could be hiding in there or Satan himself,” said Mr. Astor.

“Uncle Benedict, Cassidy is content with what she has seen. She only looks edgy because she has been through a terrible breakup recently,” Mia explained.

“Heartbreak?” Benedict’s dark eyes showed the slightest bit of warmth. "It’s the worst thing that can happen to a young soul. Jane, honey, do you remember what it was like when your parents disapproved of our love? We were devastated and desperate to get back together. That’s when we decided to elope, and your entire family began calling me a Satanist, accusing me of putting you under my spell. To this day, they all hate me with passion. I don’t care what they think about me, but it hurts me to see how poorly they think of you, too.”

Jane Astor put her head on her husband’s shoulder and caressed his cheek. “Our love is above the hate. I would leave my family a thousand times for you. No one understands me like you do. My parents had always preferred my brother over me. I never knew what it felt to be loved unconditionally until I met you.”

My aunt and uncle weren’t Romeo and Juliet. Their display of affection was just as sick as their sins. Nothing could make me think differently about them. They were the devil in sheep’s clothing.

“Honey, please entertain our guests so I can arrange the dining table for dinner.” Aunt Jane quickly pecked Uncle on his lips before leaving.

“Now, do you want to pull off the sheets?” Benedict asked me after his wife had left. “This is your only chance to see what’s underneath these covers. Are you sure you want to miss it?”

That man scared me to death, but it could be reverse psychology. The maid wouldn't have asked me to meet her on the second floor if the old couple were innocent.

Without a word, I entered that room and removed one sheet. The thick dust went right inside me, and I coughed hard. To my disappointment, I had unveiled an old wooden dresser.

Not fearing judgment, I continued to tug at the dusty white sheets, uncovering all that was in there. It was a pointless exercise as all I found there was useless furniture. Our enemies were too clever to keep their darkest secrets in the open.

“Are you satisfied now?” Mr. Astor’s voice came from behind.

“Sorry,” I said, avoiding his gaze. “I will put back the sheets on. It won’t happen again.”

“There is no need to do a servant’s work, Cassidy Black.” Mr. Astor moved before me. “Your mother has taught you to doubt us, and that’s exactly what you’re doing. Also, with a freshly broken heart, it must be difficult for you to trust anyone.”

Someone grabbed my hand. I almost yelled, thinking it was my Satanist Uncle, but found Mia on my side instead. “My sister is a tough one. She takes care of our family better than any of us. I request you to be easy on her.”

Benedict Astor’s eyebrows touched his forehead. “I didn’t realize I was being hard on your sister. Pardon me for making her uncomfortable with my dark sense of humor. From now on, I will look after her broken heart. Maybe I can help bring relief to it.”

I gave him a look of dubiety. The rage inside me wanted to push him to the ground and beat him to death. Did he never get tired of pretending to be someone he was not?

“Apology accepted. Thank you for trying to remove our doubts,” I said.

“Can I have a word with you in person?” Benedict asked me.

“What?!” His question took me by great surprise.

“I would like to speak to you in private,” he rephrased his request.

“But why can’t my siblings stay?” I asked in horror.

“Because the conversation wouldn’t be private then. I am your uncle. It wouldn’t kill you to talk to me alone. By now, I thought we had cleared that I am not a killer,” he said.

“Yes, you can talk to her. We’ll wait downstairs,” Derrick spoke for me.

I protested with my eyes. How could my brother agree to leave me alone with that old, sick bastard? I had a lingering feeling Benedict Astor wanted to talk about my brief interaction with the maid. Perhaps I wasn’t careful in hiding the inked message on my palm.

“It’ll be alright. Stay and talk to him,” Mia said in a low voice.

Being alone with a cold-blooded murderer was the last thing I wanted, but I had no valid excuse to say no to him.

My throat felt itchy and dry after my siblings exited the room. Standing next to a demon was easier than Mr. Astor. He was the father of evil. And his unblinking stare made me want to run for the hills.

“So, let’s discuss what I have just heard. Shall we?” he began with a straight face.