Chapter 160 Love Letter to Linus
Caroline sat cross-legged on the plush white wool rug in the living room, slowly eating honeydew melon from a fruit plate while flipping through a fashion magazine propped against her knees.
The house was quiet. The air smelled of lavender and sandalwood from the diffuser—the unsettling metallic scent from earlier had been scrubbed away completely.
Kenna was in the kitchen cooking, occasionally poking her head out to check on Caroline. Seeing her calm and unbothered by the absence of the other staff, Kenna allowed herself to relax slightly.
Then the doorbell rang.
The sharp sound shattered the peace.
Kenna emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel as she hurried to the entryway. She checked the video intercom.
A young man stood outside wearing a delivery uniform and a baseball cap pulled low. He held a large gift box in his arms.
"Who is it?" Kenna's voice carried a note of caution.
"Delivery. I have a package for Edith Neville. Needs her signature." The young man's voice crackled through the speaker.
Caroline's head shot up. She dropped her fork and scrambled to her feet, padding barefoot across the floor in excitement.
"A package? For me? Who would send me something?"
"Slow down, ma'am, the floor is cold." Kenna warned.
But unease prickled at the back of her mind.
If Alexander wanted to send a gift, he'd have one of his people deliver it personally. He wouldn't use a courier. And he certainly wouldn't do it without warning.
Besides, wasn't he supposed to be out hunting someone down right now?
"I'm fine, I'm fine." Caroline was already at the door, speaking into the intercom.
"That's me! I'm Edith Neville. Just a second, I'll sign for it."
Kenna moved to stop her, but Caroline had already thrown the door open.
The delivery man kept his head down, the brim of his cap casting shadows over his face. Only his sharp jawline was visible.
He held out the box—wrapped in cream paper and tied with a pale pink ribbon—along with a clipboard.
"Sign here, Ms. Neville."
Caroline took the pen and scrawled Edith's name across the form. Then she lifted the box. It was heavier than she'd expected.
The delivery man didn't linger. He turned and walked away quickly.
"What could it be?"
Caroline carried the box back to the living room and settled onto the rug again, already tugging at the ribbon.
"Relax, Kenna. I'll just open it."
Kenna's unease deepened. Something about that delivery man had felt off. And the timing was too convenient.
Alexander had just left, and now this shows up?
"Oh, maybe it's a surprise from Alex. He used to do things like this all the time."
Caroline ignored her, tearing through the wrapping paper.
Inside was another box—pristine white cardboard, elegant and expensive-looking.
She lifted the lid. A strange smell wafted out.
It was faint—like high-end leather mixed with something sickly sweet. Almost chemical. Not overpowering, but wrong.
Kenna's stomach dropped. A chill crawled up her spine.
"That smell..."
Her face went pale. She stepped forward. "Ma'am, don't. Something's not right. We should wait for Mr. Hamilton to—"
"Oh! There's a letter!"
Caroline's attention had already shifted. Nestled among pale gold tissue paper was the corner of an envelope.
Her eyes lit up. She plucked it out.
The envelope was lavender, embossed with delicate patterns. It was sealed with red wax, stamped with what looked like the letter A.
No writing on the outside.
"See! It has to be from Alex! He's being romantic again!"
Color rose in her cheeks. She smiled shyly as she broke the wax seal.
"Honestly... after all these years of marriage, he's still pulling stunts like this..."
She unfolded the letter. The paper was aged, its edges yellowed.
The handwriting was Edith's. But Caroline didn't find that strange.
Her cheeks grew warmer. "Oh my God! It's one of my old love letters. He must've found it and sent it back to tease me... how embarrassing..."
She glanced at Kenna with a bashful smile, then began reading aloud:
"To the brightest star in my life:
Meeting you was the only light in my dark world. Your smile is the warmest thing I've ever known. Even just watching you from afar makes me happy. I know there's a gap between us that can never be crossed, but please—let me keep this small, humble love hidden in the deepest part of my heart.
When night falls, I think of the warmth of your fingertips. I think of every word you've said to me. You told me to be brave. To keep living. For you, I will. Even if the road ahead is full of thorns, even if I can never have you, as long as I can see you from time to time and know you're safe, I'll be content.
Forgive my cowardice—I can only say these things in writing. You will always be my most precious secret, and my deepest longing.
May you always walk in sunlight."
The words were tender and raw, full of the aching devotion of a girl in love—desperate, hidden, and painful.
Her cheeks grew warmer as she read. Her eyes softened.
So she'd felt this way once. So intensely.
Her gaze drifted down to the signature.
Then she froze.
[Forever yours, Edith]
[For my dearest Linus.]
Linus?!
Alexander's uncle?
The man who'd been at war with Alexander back in Grandhaven—the one who'd been exiled from the Hamilton mansion years ago?
How... how was that possible?!
Why would she write a love letter to Linus? And why did it sound so heartfelt?
No. No, this wasn't right. This wasn't hers. It couldn't be.
"This—this isn't from Alex..." Caroline's voice cracked. She dropped the letter like it had burned her.
"Someone faked my handwriting... they're trying to turn Alex against me... yes! That's it! Kenna, look—this letter's a fake!"
She turned to Kenna desperately, searching for reassurance. But Kenna's face had gone white. She was staring at the gift box, frozen.
"Kenna? What's wrong?" Caroline's pulse quickened. Dread coiled in her chest.
She glanced back at the box. Beneath the pale gold tissue paper, something else was hidden—something dark red, leathery.
Kenna snapped out of it and lunged forward.
"Ma'am! Don't! Don't look inside! Close the box! Now! Something's wrong with this—"
Too late.
Caroline's fingers brushed the edge of the dark red material.
It was cold. Slick. It had a disturbing elasticity to it.